#over the past TWO YEARS i have giffed little except this dude

[fighting-naturalist]

"Insolence. Tell me what subversions you are a part of or I will bleed you dry."

#this show is so normal i swear #stargate #sg-1 #stargateedit #daniel jackson #michael shanks #s5 #ep16 #5.16 #***edits #i've giffed this before and i'll do it again. no ragrets and all that #also i was hunting through my gifsets for a particular one and i had to confront the fact that #over the past TWO YEARS i have giffed little except this dude #if you look up 'simp' in the dictionary it's a pic of me. anyway who wants to hear again about the time our faces touched when-[SNIPER FIRE

[bulletproofscales]

Hey my dude Could you write a lil fic where the maknae line are stressed due to exams or sth and they cope with food so they gradually gain weight but it only gets worse when exams are over bc they get pampered by the hyung line to the point where they break chairs and get stuck in doorways 👉🏻👈🏻 - your Prince Charming 😔🤙🏻

i already wrote something nearly exactly similar with the hyung line! if anyone is interested in reading that click HERE. 

but it was one of my first promtps and i felt like i could do this request more justice by digging into it a little more… it ended up being a 4-month-22k-words fic hope you enjoy!!

also im experimenting with adding my inspiration gifs into the fic, i feel like they add something, to me at least. gif credits will be at the end with links to the ops :) 

(if me answering and writing a prompt from 2019 doesnt give you hope about your request geting eventually finished, idk what will) 

A higher GPA, and a higher BMI

tags: namkook , chubby jungkook , fat jungkook mindless eating , stuck in furniture , oblivious weight gain , taejin , chubby taehyung , fat taehyung , student - TA relationship , public stuffings, stress eating , outgrowing clothes ,  sopemin , established relationship sope , chubby jimin , fat jimin , spoiling , breaking furtniture , confessions , miscommunication 

22k words 

AO3 LINK

Already having graduated college, Namjoon Seokjin Yoongi and Hoseok guarantee to help their younger friends with anything they need to hopefully get through this semester as smoothly as possible. 

Jimin Jungkook and Taehyung didn’t mean to push that guarantee to the extreme. 

Jungkook gravitated to Namjoon for help. STEM majors gotta stick together and all that. They weren’t exactly the same, but a lot of their classes overlapped at least at the early years that Jungkook finds himself in. So it wasn’t uncommon to find the two at the maknae’s shared apartment late at night hunched over a pile of exercise sheets and past exams. 

It wasn’t always like this though, Jungkook started college as valedictorian, top of his class effortlessly getting honors and getting into his dream school for bioengineering. But that confidence would be his downfall because nothing could’ve prepared him for the massive effort that you’re supposed to put into a college major. His first ruthlessly failed exam needing an emergency call to Namjoon from Jungkook’s two roommates for him to come and console the poor boy. Easy enough to do if you’re Jungkook’s personal hero. But a bigger problem was brewing for the younger that Namjoon wouldn’t be entirely sure how to tackle. 

Said problem being: a very suddenly anxious Jungkook, unsure of his own skill and unable to figure out how to properly study in a way that ensures this never ever happens to him. 

“Kook-ah, you know what you need to know for the exam.” Namjoon tries. “You will be okay.” His hand sits on Jungkook’s bouncing knee, settling it. He can at least do that. 

“But what if I forget? What if I get so nervous I can’t recall everything I studied. And all my effort goes to waste-” He is spiraling. Namjoon can see him spiraling, he says the first thing that comes to mind. 

“Get up. We are getting dinner.” He stands up, leaving behind a puzzled Jungkook. Groggy from lack of sleep, puffy from stress, hair a fluffy mess from running his hands through it. He looks adorable, and he is wordlessly looking for an explanation. “You’re not gonna get any sleep locked up in here.” 

“I do need to sleep tonight.” Jungkook mumbles more to himself, and Namjoon is a bit concerned about the way the younger says ‘tonight’ like it’s the exception. But he chooses not to comment on it. 

“Exactly, let’s go. Hyung’s treat.” His smile grows on his face, he’s got him hooked and out of the house; and that’s what matters. Jungkook really does have this class figured out, they’ve been at it for hours and Jungkook has been at it for weeks. Continuous days of sleepless nights, Namjoon is sure if he gets as much as one beer into his system, Jungkook will sleep like a baby. 

The decision is simple, something that’s walking distance because Namjoon can’t drive. The shoebox-sized fried chicken place across the street from Jungkook’s apartment. As soon as they walk in, Jungkook is groaning behind him. “I’m starving!” 

It earns a squinted glare from Namjoon over his shoulder. “When was the last time you ate?” 

“Do fingernails count?” 

“Sit down.” Namjoon is nearly tugging at the younger’s sleeve, guiding him to a booth. Trying to be menacing but Jungkook’s giggles show that he is unsuccessful. Too much endearment in Jungkook’s eyes when he looks at Namjoon for it to work. 

The place is nearly empty except for them both and some of the wandering staff. Namjoon didn’t think to check what time it was, or if their kitchen was even open still. And, call it his papa bear instinct, he is not leaving until he gets some food for Namjoon to eat. Fortunately when he calls the water, it’s all good news, he lets Jungkook take over what he wants. Since Namjoon ate the recommended amount of food today, he already had dinner. 

But he’ll share a beer with Jungkook. You know, in solidarity. 

Once they’re out of that stuffy apartment, it’s easy to fill the conversation with literally anything else that isn’t Jungkook’s exam. Feeling warmth spread along his chest at Jungkook’s whole demeanor lightening up. But he hasn’t seen the best of it yet, bunny grin spreading across his face when the chicken is set in front of them. 

“You sure you don’t want any?” His eyes are already eating the glistening chicken, but Jungkook quickly glances up at Namjoon. 

“No, no. I might steal some but I’m not hungry.” It does look like Jungkook ordered for two. But it’s nothing they can’t take home with them. “All yours, Kook.” He smiles, feeling genuine comfort at the sight of Jungkook pretty much launching onto his meal. 

The conversation does die a little inevitably. Jungkook isn’t giving himself much room to talk. He isn’t giving himself room to breathe. Bringing the plate close to his chest for his chopsticks to shovel the biggest mouthfuls his lips can possibly stretch to accommodate. Namjoon wouldn’t be able to ‘steal some of it’ even if he wanted to. Eyes wide as he takes the next bite, but they always close to enjoy the flavourful bites, signature frown letting Namjoon know that the younger is absolutely loving his food. 

Well, it’s nearly animalistic rather than blissful. Some of the caramelized coating of the chicken already staining Jungkook’s lips orange, and it’s beginning to cling to the corners of his mouth and some of his cheeks too; in the particularly huge bites. Not holding back any of the pleasure noises he lets out, because they all get muffled and swallowed by the food. 

The first few dishes licked clean in a matter of minutes.  A burp coaxing its way out of his mouth before he even sets the last empty plate down. 

“Aish… Manners, Jungkook.”  Namjoon feels a blush make his face all warm, as he chuckles through his scolding. 

“I told you I was starving.” He mumbles already bringing up the beer, the one that he had left abandoned as soon as the food was served. Cutting his own speech short with thick gulps of beer. “Ah-” Jungkook manages to close his lips to swallow the burp that comes immediately after. “Can I get some more?” 

It’s Namjoon’s turn to widen a bit beyond endearment. “Aren’t you full?” There’s a confused smile on his face, met with an uncharacteristic serious expression on Jungkook’s face. 

“I really don’t wanna go home yet. I can make more room.”  He sees it again, that fear and anxiety in Jungkook’s big guilty eyes. Namjoon acts on instinct, raising his arm for the waiter to see. 

“Jeogiyo! Another serving of spicy chicken please!” The waiter nods quickly. He shoots a warm smile to Jungkook who is looking gratefully back at him. “And two more beers.” 

Jungkook is determined in everything he does, Namjoon finds out. Even finishing every last crumb of this second serving.  Even as the frown on his face stops manifesting his appreciation for the flavor, but the effort of trying to fit all this food in. Taking a few more beer breaks to possibly wash down the greasy lump that must be forming in his throat. Though that must only make it worse, if the way his cheeks expand in swallowed burps is anything to go by. 

The same silence from Jungkook’s first devouring fills the table, though this time much painfully longer. And without any of the younger’s delighted enjoyment, instead a demonstration of pure… gluttony? Avoidance? Namjoon doesn’t even know what to call it. 

A struggle, is what it is. And Namjoon can’t seem to look away. Eyes following how Jungkook begins to eat with only one hand, the other one mysteriously disappearing under the table. The older can only guess it’s to ease the tension that must be forming at his stomach. 

Obviously already full, but he doesn’t cease until the last piece of chicken forced its way past his lips, at this point chewing slowly and lethargic. His blinking prolonged and sleepy. But he seals the deal by taking his beer and drinking the last few sips of it. Groaning immediately after he swallowed the last gulp. Noise that’s a little coaxed out by the burp that follows straight after. Leaning back on his seat, only his heavy breathing filling the silence. 

“How are you feeling?” Namjoon asks. 

“Ready to pop.” The younger chuckles sleepy. Namjoon was expecting something more along the lines of his emotional state for the exam. But this works too. 

“Want hyung to walk you home?” He can’t help but smile a bit, that blush from both fullness and alcohol on Jungkook’s cheeks, and his pouty greasy lips, it’s incredibly endearing. 

“Yeah… yeah I’ll fall asleep if we stay here.” Both his hands are on the table now, helping himself stand up. Revealing to Namjoon the sight Jungkook had been hiding under the table all their meal. A round cute, slightly reddened, bloat, that pushes the waistband of his sweatpants down; exposed by the shirt, that Jungkook seems to have folded upwards for a better rub. 

Namjoon can’t help but look at it, it’s right in front of his face! 

Looks tight. Small but packed to the brim. He wonders what it feels like to touch. 

The thing to snap him out of his trance is Jungkook unfolding his shirt right back to cover his ballooned stomach. “Do you want anything else?” The younger askes a bit puzzled. Right, Namjoon is still sitting. Still in perfect line of sight with Jungkook’s cute little bloat. 

“No no, sorry. I’m tired too.” He chuckles a bit through his excuse, standing up quickly and calling the waiter to take their bill. Ended up spending more than he anticipated. Namjoon wasn’t expecting Jungkook to order enough chicken for 3 and drink enough beer for him, Namjoon and the other few people in the restaurant. 

Though it’s worth it for the way Jungkook tiredly leans to him as they walk across the street back to his apartment. Not doubting for a second before wrapping his arm around the younger’s shoulders. Keeping it there all through the elevator ride. Feeling particularly accomplished at the way Jungkook nuzzles his neck, feeling his smile against his warm skin. 

His roommates, Jimin and Taehyung, give them a look from the living room; as Namjoon basically guides a half-asleep Jungkook to his room. A blush creeping on the older’s cheeks at the implications.

“H–he ate a lot of chicken.” Namjoon smiles with a nervous chuckle attached to the end of his sentence. 

“If the police come asking we won’t tell.” Taehyung snickers from the couch. As he continues to help Jungkook to his bed. He plops on it like dead weight but he is sleepily smiling up at Namjoon.

“Thanks, hyung.” His voice is still a little thick with grease. Eyes beaming even with bags under them. Just from the slight shift of movement to nuzzle his bed, Jungkook’s shirt is riding up again. A sliver of skin and the ballooned little tummy that pushes against the fabric. 

Namjoon diverts his eyes back to the younger’s face. “Anytime, Kook. Really.” He lets his hand comb through the fluffed up long hair of the younger. “I like seeing you so relaxed for a change.” Namjoon smiles down at him and is rewarded with melodic, slightly tipsy, giggling. “Rest up, okay?” 

“Yes.” 

“You’ll do great tomorrow.” 

“Yes, hyung.” He is already closing his eyes. And Namjoon has to hold back an endeared chuckle. Not bothering to say another word as he quietly leaves the sleeping Jungkook behind. 

It’s about the early afternoon, after what Namjoon imagines is a harrowing exam experience, that he gets a text from Jungkook. 

kook: that dinner worked like MAGIC hyung 

kook: that might have been the best night sleep i had 

kook: NOT EVEN IN EXAMS EASON JUST IN GENERAL

Namjoon wasn’t trying to give life saving advice. Mostly just panicked in an attempt to get Jungkook out of the house. But the relief he feels is too much for him to even feel like a fraud. 

Though it really must’ve worked like a charm. Because he doesn’t get another text from Jungkook for the entirety of exam season. It’s a change of pace to get a text from the younger that isn’t anxiety-ridden, a change that Namjoon entirely welcomes. 

kook: namjoonie hyung

kook: i miss you

kook: come with me to a cafe to study? 

A smile is already splitting his face. 

you: oh i’d love to! but i actually graduated 2 years ago 😅 thanks tho

kook: -_- 

kook: come work or something 

kook: since when are you turning down opportunities to be at a little nice coffee shop with ambiance and good french toast? 

kook: don’t you have anything to work on? 

He can’t help the smile growing on his face. He gets so defensive, as if Namjoon could ever say no to him. And he has some lyrics he’s been wanting to clean up. Though he won’t tell Jungkook, he doesn’t want to remind the younger of his… artist name. 

No matter how many times Jungkook says that Rap Mon was the sole reason he ever approached the older in college, Namjoon refuses to believe it. 

you: sure i’ll find something~ 

kook: you play so hard to get. 

Namjoon would think he sounded annoyed if he didn’t send the coffee shop place and the time to be there. With his headphones, laptop and little lyric notebook he makes sure to be there. 

As most times, Jungkook epsters him for a reason. The place does have a beautiful ambience, and the smell of coffee and baked goods smells divine and the place is filled with mostly one person tables of people buried in their work. He spots Jungkook pretty easily, in one of the booths with an arrangement of what, from Namjoon’s personal experience, he imagines are exercise guides, the obscenely big calculator, and his glasses on, hair up in a bun. 

Cute. 

He must’ve been here for a while longer than Namjoon, if the few clean plates are anything to go by. Jungkook doesn’t notice the older, like everyone else, completely engulfed in what he is doing. 

“You could’ve told me to come ehre earlier.” He chuckles without malice, making Jungkook perk up. 

“Oh! I just got here like 20 minutes ago. I got off class early.” So he ate all this in 20 minutes? “Hi to you too by the way.” He says through pursed lips. A dimpled grin splits Namjoon’s face. 

“Hi, Jungkook. I missed you.” His words are particularly sweet and genuine, just to get a smile out of him. And it works, it always works. 

“You should order something, I picked a place with good salty options for you.” He says smugly. 

“So thoughtful, Kook.” Namjoon sighs dreamily, picking the abandoned menu from the corner of the table. And he is right, he already sees an avocado toast that catches his eye. But when the waiter comes to them to take Namjoon’s order, Jungkook is talking again. 

“I’ll get another latte and one of the cinnamon rolls.” He smiles politely to the waiter, Namjoon has to get over the fact that he is ordering more at all. 

“And… an avocado toast and an americano.” Namjoon recovers smoothly. The waiter looks a little surprised too. If Jungkoko really got here just 20 minutes ago like he says, then yeah, anyone would be surprised he is getting… (Namjoon counts the plates), fourths already. 

Regardless he nods and walks away. Namjoon starts setting up ready to get to work. Though in the silence it seems like Jungkook feels the need to explain himself. 

“That was my lunch.” 

“Oh?”

“This is… dessert.” A smile grows at the sudden seriousness in Jungkook’s tone. 

“Okay.” He says a bit amused, a small chuckle bubbling at the back of his throat. “You can eat as much as you want.” He offers a gentler look, only because there’s a tint to Jungkook’s cheeks. The younger smiles back before they fall into comfortable silence. Only interrupted by their food, and then, quiet eating noises with the subtle scribbling of their paper. 

Until Jungkook is done with his order, then he calls the waiter again. For more food. And Namjoon is getting a proper view of what happened in those first 20 minutes that Jungkook arrived before him. Practically scarfing down the plates without even glancing at them. The hand that isn’t scribbling obscenely long equations onto the paper, reaches for the food. Clumsily, his lips stretching and trying to catch the food without taking his eyes off the exercise. Only lifting his face when he is done and needs to call the waiter for more. Though, the entire staff seems to be alert of Jungkook. 

Is this not the first time he is doing this? 

Namjoon tries not to think about it, but what were once quiet eating noises turn louder the messier it gets. So he can’t ignore it, and at some point he just starts to wonder how much can Jungkook pack in? The stack of plates next to his pencil case is obscene, like something out of an eating contest. One that only Jungkook knows about, and he’s been practicing months to get a head started on.

Because, Namjoon has hung out a lot with him, and even when he was a freshman in college, Jungkook could never eat this much. Not even when the dreadful freshman 15 are supposed to hit. He is so acutely aware of Jungkook’s eating, Namjoon does not manage to do any work that day; not a single verse. Maybe for the better, since he spares himself from Jungkook’s teasing. 

But it’s a long couple of hours. Namjoon knows he could’ve gotten up at any time, they’re just keeping eachother company. Yet, he finds that he can’t quite bring himself to stop stealing glances at the younger, catching him sometimes halfway through stretching his lips around a bite, or even already licking his fingers clean obscenely before reaching for another handful of food. Namjoon is transfixed in this cycle of looking up just to quickly divert his eyes away, though he doubts Jungkook even notices him there. 

Alas, when he finishes his exercise guide, he proudly punches the table grinning. “Done.” He states a bit breathless, which has probably something to do with the massacre of plates beside him. And it’s not even the whole thing, as the staff took the initiative to start taking away the plates as they piled up besides Jungkook. “I can’t look at another one of these or my brain will pop.”

Namjoon has to hold back from saying he imagines there will be another organ of his popping soon. “Yeah I’m all out of juice too.” He says instead, resigned. He is not getting any progress, not today. After fighting for who covers the check, and Namjoon successfully wins, they’re packing their things. 

Only then, does he get to see the impact of Jungkook’s new coping method for stress. When the younger stands up from his chair, without the table covering him anymore and reveals the rest of his body. Namjoon comes eye to eye with Jungkook’s newfound pudgy middle. A belly that hangs just a bit over the waistband of his pants, with a shirt that clings to the pillowy fat; hem barely brushing his bottom roll. As if a wrong movement would make it ride up the gentle curve of his stomach. Tight enough that the dent of his belly button shows through the stretched fabric, clinging fully to the muffin top on his hips and putting full display of the thickness of his waist. 

Having him stood up while Namjoon still sits makes it even clearer that it’s not just his belly that softened, but all of him. His chest rounded out and pushed slightly forward; perky chest and slightly puffy nipples. Something Namjoon maybe would have noticed if it weren’t for Jungkook’s chronically awful posture. Stretching the shirt at the very top. Along with his arms, clinging to the short sleeves without all the definition that Namjoon had gotten used to, instead softer and thicker. And his double chin, from this angle it was evident. Face looked rounder more than ever with the padding under his jaw clear as day as Jungkook looked down to smile at the older. 

“Not enough juice to even get up?” Jungkook retorts and snaps Namjoon out of his trance. 

“Y-yeah yeah sorry.” He stands up quickly, quickly enough that he nearly knocks into the table a bit. Earning a deserved chuckle from the younger, and a flustered huff from Namjoon. “Shush, or I’m making you drive me.” 

“I was gonna offer to drive you anyway. Come on.” 

He doesn’t miss the slight heavy breathing form Jungkook as they walk to the car, and the quiet sigh when he sits on the driver’s seat; he tries to ignore it at least. But Jungkook makes it extra hard to look away when the hand that isn’t steering the wheel cupped the bottom of his belly. Thumb digging into the layer of pudge to reach the bloat, in slow circular motions. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this relaxed while studying.” He says, and it’s genuine! Jungkook has a satisfied smile on his face, Namjoon remembers when he had to pry the younger away from the exercise guides and coax him to eat a meal.

Definitely doesn’t have any of those problems anymore. 

“You helped for sure.” 

“Please, you were in the zone even before I got there.” 

“No. No I mean like, the tip. The tip you gave me all that time ago?” Namjoon’s puzzled look must speak for itself. “You know, eating before an exam, eating while studying. Like we did last time.” 

He doesn’t distinctly remember giving Jungkook that advice, but it shows all over his body. And his smile is so proud of himself, the one that reminds Namjoon of an underclassmen highschooler telling him he wanted to go to college for biology just like Namjoon. Just to impress him.

Namjoon simply doesn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise. 

In fact, Namjoon doesn’t have the heart to tell him anything else on the matter. Anything that isn’t encouragement. Even when Jungkook isn’t in exam season, he’s become so food motivated; it makes sense to offer him treats during the semester, just to keep him on track…

It makes sense for Namjoon to do that.

Of course. 

Snatching him during the week for study cafes, and bringing beer to all their late night study sessions… They’re all for the sake of Jungkook’s education. 

In the back of his mind, of course, he thinks his genuine encouragement might have gotten out of hand. But it’s worth it for the starch difference in Jungkook’s grades, and overall mood. Going through his classes with ease, as well as going through bags of snacks during said lectures. Through the rest of the year it only got worse, Namjoon knows this, but… Jungkook seems so happy. 

These are some of the thoughts he has to debate with every time he goes to Jungkook’s for another study session. Tonight is no different. Going up the stairs to the younger’s apartment to support Jungkook in the midst of exam season. Though at this point, Namjoon isn’t entirely sure if he is of service anymore. 

But if he isn’t of service, that means he has to face what other reason he could be joining Jungkook so often for. 

And Namjoon simply doesn’t have time for that, he just arrived at Jungkook’s place. Box of brownies in hand. Store bought, Jungkook’s favorite (for some reason). 

“Hyung!” His smile remains just as bright as any other day that Namjoon shows up for support. 

The rest of Jungkook though… It’s unrecognizable. 

In a year, the student’s new “study method” took a toll on Jungkook’s body. The frame that opened the door for Namjoon was close to being as wide as the door frame itself. His waist thickened to the point it buried any trace of Jungkook’s former dainty waist, thick rolls stacking along his sides, staring with jiggly love handles and finishing at the top with, what Namjoon could only describe as, the weight of his moobs beginning to overspill from the sides, beginning to sag to the sides with rounded softened nipples that constantly push against all his shirt. Pushing his arms to the sides, both of them fattened as well, softened without any of its former impressive muscle; they wobbled gently when he scribbled on paper. 

As soon as he opens the door, his belly threatens to push through the threshold on its own, stretching forward in a slope. Slightly firmer at the top and center of it, but surrounded with pillowy and sagging downwards over the waistband of his pants. Overhang girthy and making most of Jungkook’s shirts ride up as he walks. Always shifting in his chairs trying to push his shirt down from behind and then from the front, before he inevitably gives up. It folds into hefty rolls whenever he sits down, taking room on his lap. The fact his legs fattened so much too doesn’t help, pooling out of every chair he sits on, ass wobbling with each step of the stairs that he’s taken Namjoon to their apartment. 

His face… probably the only thing that stayed the same. Cheeks just rounding out cutely, making his face impossibly more of a circle when he grins, bright and heartwarming. With the addition of a bit of padding hanging off his once sharp jawline, into a squishy double chin. 

“Hey Kook.” He says before his staring becomes too obvious. “I bought some motivation.” Namjoon smiles, proudly patting the brownie box. 

“How did you know I was craving these?!” The younger whines thankful, as he steps aside to let Namjoon in. 

“You’re always craving the worst quality brownie in the market.” 

“Hey! There’s definitely ones worse than this! There’s always the cafeteria ones.” Namjoon is already making his way to the dining table. Guided by the scattered papers and books that are already taking over the surface. 

“Second worst, then.” He gives in with a fond smile, like he always does. Taking a seat in front of Jungkook. Who makes the poor IKEA chair creak when he takes a seat on it. “Does that make you feel better about yourself?”

“Immensely.” His shit-eating-grin isn’t any less endearing. 

“What are we studying today?” Namjoon cuts him off instead, only for Jungkook to start showing him the exercises he’s been having trouble with. Wordlessly and poutily. “Oh… oh I remember hating these.” The older’s face scrunches at the memory. 

“I know… It’s gonna take a lot of brownies to get me through this.” Jungkook sulks. And right, because they’ve been implementing a new system. As well as the plethora of “study snacks” that Jungkook mindlessly gorges on while working, there’s the reward snacks. The ones Namjoon keeps out of his reach only to give him when he finishes something. 

It’s been so long, Namjoon doesn’t exactly remember how it started. All he knows is Jungkook is too dependent on it now to go back to not getting snacks as rewards now. 

“Just start with this one.” He points to one of the exercises on his study guide. Before picking up the brownie box and giving it a gentle shake. “There’s enough for the entire syllabus.” That’s the thing that makes Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with newfound motivation. Wordlessly taking the guide and his notebook before starting to quietly scribble down. 

It was about 10 minutes, Namjoon using that time to revise Jungkook’s notes and get accustomed with the subject again. But, fast as ever, Jungkook slides the resolved exercise. “Let’s see.” Namjoon mumbles adjusting his glasses, feeling the younger’s eyes glued to him, switching from Namjoon’s reaction to the unopened brownie box. “This one is good!” He chirps, but it’s nothing compared to the full body beam Jungkook gives him, reaching for the brownie 

The cycle repeats endlessly. Jungkook is a skilled diligent student, Namjoon isn’t entirely sure why the younger keeps inviting him over to study, almost never fully needing to ask questions. If there ever is a mistake, once Namjoon points it out, it is like something clicks in Jungkook’s mind. Entitle up to speed with the older. 

The brownie box is emptying quickly. And Namjoon feels entirely useless, yet he can’t find himself to say it outloud. Not when Jungkook is in front of him with crumbs all over his cheeks and chest, chocolate clinging to the corners of his lips. And the hand that isn’t writing down is under the table mysteriously. Or well… It hasn’t been a mystery since that time at the coffee shop. 

Another exercise done, Namjoon isn’t even done revising it before he catches a hand reach to the brownie box from the corner of his eyes. In a reflex the older reaches for it faster and brings it towards himself. “Ah ah ah, don’t get cocky. You don’t know if it’s correct or not.” He has a teasing smile, and Jungkook looks startled for a second, as if he had done it unconsciously, before smiling back. 

“I’m pretty sure it is, hyung.” As he says it his hand reaches for the box again. And Namjoon has to bring it further back; this time with the glint of competitiveness that the younger always inspires from him. 

“Not until I say so.” He’s finished reading, he knows it’s correct. But still, he holds the box away from Jungkook’s grasp, with a playful smile that the younger mimics. This isn’t about the exercise, not anymore. Jungkook tries to reach further from the table, leaning out of his chair. Just for Namjoon to react quicker than ever leaning back. From Jungkook’s angle, Namjoon can see the way the top of his belly is sinking into the edge of the table. Softer chest sagging barely against his shirt. 

He can see Jungkook beginning to prepare to lean closer. And when Namjoon stands up already grinning from ear to ear, ready to possibly be chased by the younger. 

And when Jungkook launches at him… He can’t. Namjoon’s smile fades a little, as he watches Jungkook try again. His own expression cracking into disbelief as he looks down at himself. Realization dawning on both of them slowly. 

Jungkook is stuck in the chair. 

The room feels death quiet, Jungkook clears his throat looking down at himself, hands gripping the armrests. Now that he is standing, Namjoon can see the way they’re digging into his fatty sides. And tries to push them down. Making his body ripple with each try. 

Namjoon feels a little petrified where he stands. Before pleading doe eyes look his way. “A little help?!” Jungkook whines, snapping the older from the trance he was in. 

“Fuck sorry.” Namjoon chuckles a bit nervously before rushing to him. “Come on, let’s get you out.” He mumbles getting behind Jungkook, fingers gripping into the legs of the chair and begin to tug backwards. 

“Yes!” Jungkook groans. With each tug his apron belly slap against his lap. “I really really want that brownie!” He throws his head back whining pathetically. As if everything in his body didn’t scream that he had one brownie box too many. 

Namjoon is grunting behind him, but it won’t budge. “Has this happened before?!” He can’t help his desperate tone. And Jungkook throws an insulted look over his shoulder. 

“No?! You think I would’ve sat here if I got stuck already!?” 

“I don’t, but it looks like this chair is three sizes small, Kook.” He chuckles a bit, slowly getting the chair off the curve of his plump love handles. Both of the younger’s hands are on the table, pushing his ass to Namjoon in an attempt to collaborate. 

“I’ve been studying in my room a lot!” Jungkook’s voice gets higher pitched as he whines. Making Namjoon more forceful until he stumbles back. Flimsy wooden chair in his hands as he frees Jungkook. 

“Ha!” He is a little breathless but victorious still. “Freedom.” Namjoon punches the air. Before noticing Jungkook’s silence. 

He is eating another brownie. Namjoon guesses, the one Jungkook thought was owed to him for getting that exercise right. But then he is grabbing another one while still munching on the previous brownie. And his other hand is grabbing another one after that. 

“What are those supposed to be for?” Namjoon crosses his arms with a teasing smile. 

“Emotional reparations.” 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Taehyung hates critique day. Which sucks. Because in an art major, every day is critique day. He knew what he was getting into, of course he knew. Taehyung just didn’t expect to feel so personally about his art. 

Though, he knows how to behave. Of course he doesn’t make a scene, and he takes all the critiques. But his frustrations end up manifesting elsewhere. 

It’s not even his turn, there’s another 10 people before him. But Taehyung’s thumb is already against his lips. Teeth anxiously nipping at his cuticles. He doesn’t think his art is beyond critiquing, of course not. That’s the whole reason he is majoring in art. But he pours so much of himself into each piece, vulnerable and grotesquely intimate. It’s so hard to expose in front of everyone, relating the quality of his art directly to his own value as a person. 

What if what he is saying is overdone? A cliche experience that everyone goes through and is not worthy of being represented through art. Or worse, what if it’s too much? Too personal and private to expose in a room full of strangers. What if these types of things should be left for the little epigraph under a painting for only the willing to read? Instead of stating it proudly as a defense for the homework you did in front of a bunch of strangers- 

A hand places gently on his wrists, warm. Cutting the middle of his rampant spiral. Taehyung still has his fingers grazing against his lips when he turns to see the hand owner, his upperclassman and TA, Seokjin. Who has a patient smile on his face that seems like he can read all of Taehyung’s thoughts. 

“If you’re gonna nip on anything, have this.” He whispers as to not call attention to them while the professor gives her critiques to another student. Taehyung’s hand is lowered gently and a candy bar is placed on it. His jaw drops, looking at it before looking up at Seokjin; who looks even smug about it. 

“Thanks.” Even if his response is short, the admiration and gratitude must show on his face, because the older has to stifle a laugh. Taehyung doesn’t waste another second ripping open the package and bringing it to his lips. 

Being able to press these anxieties onto the crunchy bar feels too relieving. The delicious nutty flavor is an amazing bonus. Taehyung can’t hold back from finishing it in only a few hurried bites. Relishing in the way his thoughts are taken over by the small snack, instead of his sprinting anxieties. And then he is pushing the last of it with his fingers, only realizing he hasn’t taken a single moment to enjoy the candy bar once he is gulping the last bite. And he isn’t even close to having to expose his artwork. 

Does he go back to panicking? It feels like he should- Correction, it feels like he is. 

Unconsciously, his hand is already reaching for his lips when Seokjin intercepts it again. Another candy bar in hand. Making Taehyung’s eyebrows fly to the roof. 

“I get cravings during the day, okay? Don’t look so judgy.” Seokjin defends himself whispering, but his smile gives away that he didn’t take it too personally. 

“I don’t wanna waste your stash, don’t you have some gum?” It’s the younger’s turn to hold in his giggles. 

His TA’s face scrunches up. “I don’t like mint.” 

“You are weird.” Taehyung says with a smile, hands already focusing on tearing the wrapper apart. Seokjin is rolling his eyes, while the younger is stifling his giggle with the first bite. He wordlessly passes Taehyung his backpack so lay by the student’s side where he is sat. Opened already and showing the plethora of candy bars and different snacks stashed in there. 

How is this man so fit?! Taehyung rather brings the backpack closer to his side with his leg, as he’s already working through the second candy bar. He really tried to space it out and enjoy it a bit. But he still finished it in the span of only one student getting their critique. Only throwing a pleading glance at Seokjin, whose eyes are already on Taehyung with a patient nod, he is reaching deep in the bag for another one. Without looking into the bag, it really does feel like he has the entire thing full to the brim. 

He pulls another one out, this time not so worried in making sure he makes it last throughout the like, 8 other people who have critiques before Taehyung. And he doesn’t. But his hand is already reaching for the bag without a second thought. He is sure Seokjin will be fine without 3 or 4 of his bars. The supply feels so endless he doesn’t even keep track. 

Letting the candy bar wrappers pile around him, it doesn’t take long before a warm feeling starts to set on the bottom of his stomach. Blood circulation his stomach as it digests all that chocolate, peanut butter, and whatever else they put on them. It’s making him sleepy, but Taehyung welcomes the feeling with open arms, sedating him from all his anxieties. Mind too lethargic to worry, and hands too busy on the slight bloat of his tummy to reach for his teeth to nip at them. Taehyung doesn’t even notice when his time for the critique comes, catching him half way through a snickers bar. That he brushes to his lap, along with all the other wrappers that piled on his desk around his art piece. 

The warmth emanating from his stomach is enough to even make him feel more soothed as he explains his piece. Something Taehyung had been struggling with since he got his first critique, and he realizes he can’t in fact be perfect at something from the get go; like he had unconsciously hoped for. Not this time though, he has a calm tone as he explains the inner workings and reasonings behind his assignment. And he doesn’t know if it’s that, or if this piece is particularly good, or if his lethargic mind is playing tricks on his perception of the world, but the critiques don’t seem as bad as they usually are. 

The rest of the class passes by in a blurr. And he has Seokjin to thank for it. 

And he does! Walking up to the TA once everyone starts walking out. 

“Sorry about almost emptying your bag.” He smiles shyly. “But I really never felt that relaxed during a critique, ever.” 

“Don’t mention it, I know it took me ages to get used to it.” His smile is patient as ever, Taehyung is beginning to wonder if it was this charming from the beginning of the semester. 

“And what did you do then?” If he is tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, it’s nobody’s business. 

“I was bringing entire boxes worth of snacks.” Seokjin giggles. “Really took my freshman 15 to a whole new level.” 

If Taehyung lets his eyes go up and down Seokjin’s body with a smile, then maybe it’s a little bit of his TA’s business. “Doesn’t look like you have them on you right now.” 

Seokjin smiles with a bit more confidence. Taehyung has never prided himself in his subtlety. “I told you I got used to the critiques, didn’t I?” If the older takes a step closer, Taehyung’s heart has no business pitter pattering this way. “Now I just keep a stash in case anyone is getting a little panicky.” Taehyung is about to object, but Seokjin anticipates it. “Happens more often than you think!” 

“Sure it does.” His arms are folding over his chest, but it’s not as defensive as it is flirty. Seokjin seems to notice. 

“You can just say thank you.” The fact his tone gets even cockier should not be as attractive as Taehyung is making it out to be. 

“If it manages to calm my nerves consistently. Then you’ll get your thank you.” It feels like they’re standing much closer than when Taehyung first walked up to him to thank the TA. But he is leaving with a lot more. 

“Keep me updated then.” Seokjin smiles unfaced. 

“I will.” 

And Taehyung leaves that class with an entirely different feeling of nerves than the one he walked in with; much giddier too. Though, airhead at heart, he notices he forgot to ask Seokjin for his number; and Taehyung definitely won’t be flirting through their school emails, and finding his social media and dming him is out of the question. Taeyung has some dignity left, thank you very much. 

Instead, he limits himself to keep Seokjin’s memory alive in his mind every time he has a class where he has to present some of his artwork. Stocking up on a bagful of snacks for him to work his way through until he gets his critique. Mostly figuring out what’s the right amount, since that first time he only ever started snacking about 2/3rds of the the class in, so naturally Taehyung has more time to fill if he is starting to eat from the get go. But also, he can’t get too full too early! Because then the feeling could possibly wash off in the span of his 4 hour courses. 

Though the most exciting part of his week was trying out what he enjoyed snacking on the most. What offered that warm hazy sensation that Taehyung was seeking, what settled best on his tummy, and what was most appropriate for class. He is not making the same mistake of bringing some chips and spicy sauce to class; not only making a lot of noise, but having the spice make his stomach gurgle and churn as he held back from farting in class. 

After extensive research, Taehyung found out that sweets were the best option. Fluffy and noiseless, and perfectly filling. Instead of cramping to fit them into his bag, Taehyung proudly walks into class with a bakery box that sits on his lap. They’re bigger and more filling than candy bars, just (if not more) as delicious. And Taehyung plops it open as soon as the first student begins to expose. He is able to make them last the entire class, chewing unhurried but constantly throughout. Taehyung’s always had an appetite, but he always brings enough to end up with both hands under his desk on his bloated tummy, and a fuzzy feeling of fullness. 

It’s only been two weeks, but Taehyung really does feel like he owes Seokjin a thank you. He thinks to himself as he walks into the classroom where Seokjin assists. The younger considered talking to him after class, but he finds the TA’s eyes on him… Probably due to the bakery box he brings with him into the classroom. Taehyung quite frankly, had already naturalized the snacks he has been bringing with him to most classes. Completely forgetting that Seokjin only comes to help out once every two weeks. 

“I take it you’re trying out my advice?” Seokjin catches him as Taehyung walks to his usual desk. 

“Trying it? I’ve already adopted it.” He sits down and smiles up at Seokjin. “I haven’t been this relaxed ever since I got into art.” Taehyung leans back into his chair, smug, before beaming. “And look at this!” His hand wiggles his fingers daintily in front of Soekjin’s face, his eyes crossing a bit to get a better look at the sight. 

With perfectly healthy cuticles. 

He gently takes Taehyung’s hand into his. Thumb rubbing up and down his middle finger; making the younger’s insides churn. “Wow… Look at you.” His tone is a little teasing, but his smile is endeared. Though, Taehyung can only focus on the world around him again, once the TA has let his hand go. “What’s on today’s menu?” 

“Cinnamon rolls, some red velvet slices…” He purses his lips. And shies a bit when he sees Seokjin’s eyebrows reach his hairline. “And–and just a few more things. Can’t remember.” 

“Certainly a lot more than those 5 snicker bars you ate last time.” This time there isn’t much endearment in Seokjin’s smile. Taehyung widens. 

It was only 5?!  He had felt so overwhelmingly full back then… 

Now it wouldn’t come close to doing the job. 

“I always had an appetite.” He shrugs with pouty lips. “I was just guilty of eating too much of your stash.” Taehyung excuses himself with arms crossed over his chest. 

“I’m glad you’re bringing your own then.” Seokjin chuckles, making Taehyung worry if he even believes the younger’s excuse. “This is definitely more than all of my stash.” He eyes the big bakery box on Taehyung’s desk, and looks up with a smile that doesn’t say the full truth; the younger’s cheeks burn a little warmer. 

But he doesn’t get to say the last word, the professor is calling Seokjin over; who only offers a wide grin before ushering to her desk. 

This interaction definitely echoes in Taehyung’s mind, only silenced with the first few bites of the cinnamon roll. But not entirely, since flashes of Seokjin’s teasing smile as he eyed Taehyung’s portion size creeps on him. Catching him mid-bite, with his lips stretched, buttercream coating his lips and red velvet crumbs already beginning to fall onto his lap. His cheeks blushed everytime. All that nonchalance he had these two weeks, acquiring this habit, unbothered by the weird stares, suddenly shifted into self awareness when Taehyung sensed the TA’s eyes on him. 

Taehyung didn’t dare look to check; he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he actually caught Seokjin staring at him making a pig out of himself in class. Maybe he was just deluding himself and the older was nowhere near paying him attention. Why would he be? They barely know each other. 

All this just represented more thoughts for Taehyung to have to silence with food. Or at least try to. Determined to silence his feelings of sudden awkwardness, like he had managed all those classes before this one; where he ate without a care. And besides, if anyone would be nonjudgmental of this… coping mechanism, it should be Seokjin out of all people, shouldn’t it? He advised Taehyung to do it after all. 

A thought in the back of his mind wonders if maybe it isn’t judgment that Seokjin is showing. But Taehyung decides to bury that thought with another one of the cinnamon rolls, taking an obscene bite of it. Guiding his thoughts to the warmth stretching his stomach, not taut yet but getting there. Pressing against his shirt with a slight curve. Already making him blissed and a little sleepy. 

And he still has so much more food to go. 

Perfect. 

With newfound determination, and a mind determined to not think for the rest of the class, Taehyung loses himself to the food before him. Not only the sound of his professor giving critiques, but the sight from the corner of his eye of Seokjin (possibly) watching him, all fade away. As Taeyung focuses on looking down at his bakery box, focusing on his own hands as they reach more fervently for the food, feeling how the icing and buttercream make his throat feel thick and his entire body tingle as all the blood goes to his distending stomach. One hand goes idly to caress the growing curve, feels like with every heavy gulp, it expands against his fingers. Though it doesn’t feel unbearable like it used to be. 

He brought enough food that when it’s time for his critiques, Taehyung hasn’t even finished. But he still ate enough for that comfortable warmth to ease his nerves. It goes by smoothly, like it has for the past few weeks. And he has left overs! Taehyung could probably take these back to his apartment, he is sure Jungkook will appreciate the extra study snacks. 

Yet as soon as his professor is done talking to him, his hand is reaching for another slice of cake. Even when he has no reason to be nervous anymore, no anxiety rattling his bones; it’s like his hands reach for the food all on their own. He doesn’t even question it, let alone try to stop himself. But in the back of his mind, Taehyung is beginning to realize, he’s trained his body to do this. To eat without conscience, to eat to lose conscience. 

Which isn’t really all that good. But then again… Being this full does feel really nice. Especially when these last baked goods are all he needs to fully push to the edge of comfortably full to stuffed to brim. The thought on the back of his mind isn’t enough to stop the automated path of his hand, as it grips the velvety piece of cake. It doesn’t matter if it’s not as enjoyable as it settles in his rounding stomach. The taste is amazing. 

Fuck Jungkook, he has enough snacks already. That waistline speaks for itself. 

Taehyung has to force that last bite down with his index finger, chewing lethargic and slowly; a little painful. His stomach gurgling under his desk in complaint, as if to convince Taehyung to not swallow. He does, obviously. The only thing more embarrassing than eating like a hog in front of everyone, would be spitting something out. He gulps it down and has a burp stretching his cheeks almost immediately after. Having to cup his swollen stomach when it vibrates and gurgles whining. 

Ow. 

He might have overdone it. His eyelids feel heavy and it feels like all those sweets are taking space his lungs need; making his breathing heavier and his body warm all over. 

As if on cue, the class is dismissed! Perfect timing, Taehyung is ready to get these pants off and take a fat nap. Already tidying up his desk from all the little disposable plates and trays, he has good student etiquette thank you very much. Ignoring the weird stares from fellow students that walk past his desk. If they haven’t gotten used to this in the last two weeks, it’s out of Taehyung’s hands. 

When it’s time to get up. His stomach churns painfully, cramping and complaining to the point Taehyung plops back into his chair. A little ‘ouf’ leaving his lips; as if he hadn’t already been breathless before attempting to stand. It takes a second try, and a second failure for Taehyung to realize… he might need a little help. 

This time around, he does feel like the side-eyes he is getting from his classmates are somewhat deserved. He overdid it. Most definitely. Taehyung has never been this full, belly expanding with each shallow breath; agitated from trying to stand and pinned by his taut belly. Full enough it stretches his poor shirt; he’s always had a bit of padding around his tummy, and it barely shows from how tight his stomach is rounding out. Only able to feel that chub when he massages his gurgling stomach; but it looks hard enough to be a baby bump. 

In a meek, breathless attempt, Taehyung tries again. Only to fall back in his chair. Desperation beginning to tie his overstuffed stomach in a knot, not only are his classmates leaving; but the people from the class after theirs are entering. His head turning for any familiar face he could ask for assistance. 

The only one he finds is the one Taehyung is most embarrassed to call for help. But he doesn’t have much of a choice, does he? 

“Seokjinssi?” The TA was picking up some notes, his back to Taehyung, thankfully. There’s at least some hope that he didn’t see Taehyung’s pathetic attempts to get up. 

“What is it?” He comes closer slinging his backpack on and getting a proper look at Taehyung’s situation. Bloated belly, pushing at the waistband of his pants and shirt, holding onto the desk for momentum. Seokjin’s entertained smile makes him want to shrink away. 

“Could you…” Taehyung is not gonna look at his face when asking, instead looking at the mess he turned himself into. All of that flirty energy he had felt for Seokjin when he first helped the younger out, was gone. Replaced with mortifying embarrassment. “Uh… I kind of overdid it. I need a little help.” He says instead, avoiding Seokjin’s reaction. 

A hand comes into his line of vision.

Phew. 

Taehyung takes it and lets Seokjin tug him up. Amazed by the soft grunt that slips from the back of his throat; feeling his swollen stomach try and pin him in place. But that’s not nearly as embarrassing as the way he accidentally leans closer than he should to Seokjin’s torso. The hand that isn’t holding Taehyung’s holding him by his waist; hand big enough to brush the side of his bloat.

He is mortified, and Seokjin’s little smile does nothing to help the feeling. 

“You okay?” The way even the TA’s charming expression has his eyebrows slightly raised and his eyes a little widened. Even he wasn’t ready for Taehyung’s display of gluttony. 

“Y–yeah… Yeah, thanks.” Taehyung forces himself to smile. But what’s even harder is separating from the firmness of Seokjin’s torso. Brushing the crumbs that collected across his chest. “That’s a first for me.” He feels the need to comment. 

“Eating so much you can’t get up?” Seokjin chuckles. “Yeah, you’re the first time I see it too.” His tone is friendly, but Taehyung can still feel his cheeks burning red. Only worsened by the up and down glance Seokjin gives of his body. 

“You should meet my roommates.” Taehyung tells a joke only for himself to laugh at. Ready to wash off all the embarrassment he accumulated in this class. “See you around, Seokjinssi.” He scrambles to grab his stuff and nod off. Weighting if this much humiliation is worth being able to handle the critiques. 

Taehyung doesn’t really decide. Not really. Because the next day comes, Taehyung doesn’t even have a critiquing that day, but his feet still drag him to the bakery close to campus. Staff already familiar with his face and gave him the freshest donuts of the batch. In the back of his mind, he does question himself again. If it really is the best for him to be eating beyond his capability to stand up. 

But he got the donuts already. And even if he won’t be getting critiques today, it’s still nice to have a snack while he paints. It’s just once more. 

Except it isn’t, Taehyung finds himself facing the fact he underestimated how much of a habit he had made of Seokjin’s little advice. Part of him started feeling guilty to not go to the bakery, feeling like all the staff was expecting him there. And the very few scattered days that Taehyung didn’t go, his worries were confirmed when the caring lovely staff asked about what happened. Besides, whenever he skipped, his stomach would grumble so much he would eventually end up dragging his feet to the college dining hall and buying anything he can get his eyes on. 

Seokjin doesn’t bring it up again, but he does continue walking over to Taehyung’s desk to chat. Never able to be subtle in the way he always glances down at the younger’s desk; as if to check if he had brought any food this time. And Taehyung always had. 

Luckily though, he never has to ask Seokjin for help getting up in what’s left of the semester. The more used he got to eating these huge quantities of sweets, the easier his stomach stretched and adapted to the heft of Taehyung’s snacks. But, simultaneously, made him harder and harder to satisfy. 

It got to the point where there wasn’t enough food he could physically bring to his class for it to be enough to make him feel as full as he used to be at the beginning of the semester. He keeps his portions similar to the ones he had when he first started bringing food to class, only to stuff himself with anything he could; whether it meant another stop to the bakery, a demolition of the lunch menu at the dining hall, or cleaning whatever his roommates had stashed the fridge with. Though that last option got him a scolding most of the time. 

In the back of his mind, he knows. Taehyung is overdoing it. Ending his school day stuffed to the brim and waddling home; even on the days he has sculpting class, and his hands are in no condition to be touching food. Let alone classes where his hands are in full capacity to eat, a professor’s critique not needed for his body to crave that hazy drowsy sensation of being full. 

And it’s beginning to show. He knows it. Taehyung can feel it in the way his clothes begin to fill out. Waistbands sinking into his middle when he sits down, and then even when he is standing up. His inner thighs rubbing together when he walks, covering all of the chair when he sits. The front of his tummy always pressing against his shirts, which have only gotten tighter with the course of the semester. Then, it’s not just his stomach pressing against the fabric, but his chest too. Small but puffy mounds of fat, with softened and overly sensitive nipples. Then his sleeves start feeling a little fuller as well. 

And if Taehyung gets another comment from his roommates about how chubby and round his face has gotten, he will throw another paintbrush at them. 

But it’s fine.

The semester will end, and without the routine of his classes, the routine of his snacking shall also stop. 

Taehyung has it under control. 

Even if he was determined to not need a change of clothes until the end of the semester. Yet here he is, rummaging through Jungkook and Jimin’s laundry for anything oversized. 

Whatever, it’s not a change of clothes. Jimin and Jungkook steal his clothes for fancy events all the time. Or… they used to. Taehyung doubts they fit them now. 

He finds one of Jungkook’s sweatpants and he rather not ponder on how they’re not an oversized fit. He leaves for uni decidedly. Today he has a live painting session, his favorite. He arrives there early even! Ready to pick his favorite spot in the circle of canvases, and display all his paints and–

Seokjin is there. 

“You don’t take this course.” He states a bit bluntly. Excuse him, but Taehyung has to mentally prepare himself to engage with Seokjin, and have him smiling all charming at him. 

“I don’t.” Luckily, the older only seems endeared by Taehyung’s straight forward greeting. “Ms.Lee called in sick, I’m covering for her.”

“Are TAs allowed to do that?” He can’t help scrunching his face. And it downright earns a bit of laughter from Seokjin, smile only growing. 

“It’s just a live painting session, Tae.” Endearment rolls off his tongue. “Take a seat.” Seokjin’s shit eating smile shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. But that’s an existential question Taehyung had to give up ages ago. 

“You’re not the boss of me.” He scoffs, but does in fact walk to his preferred canvas. Just because he wants to. Not because Seokjin instructed him. Setting his bag and walking to the line of aprons hung up at the back of the class. 

He doesn’t think twice before grabbing one, putting his head through it and beginning to tie it as he walks back to his spot. But… as he feels his belly press against the cloth, rolls on his waist shifting with each step, Taehyung feels the straps sink a little into the folds that stack on his sides. A sensation he’s gotten used to.

However, he can’t seem to be making the two ends of the straps meet… 

Not even close. 

Stopping in his tracks, he focuses on sucking in. And feels his stomach retract the slightest bit, he pushes the straps. The two edges barely grazing each other, not nearly enough give for him to tie a knot. And panic starts to set in. 

Yeah, he hasn’t had a live painting session in a while. But it hasn’t been that long, has it? 

And he hasn’t gotten that fat in said short amount of time, has he? 

He turns his back to the rack of aprons, almost resentfully. There has to be a bigger one, isn’t there? No, Taehyung is in Korea. Where he was a size large even before this… gain. 

“What’s the matter?” Seokjin asks, but his voice sounds more knowing than what Taehyung feels comfortable with. And his voice is closer than he was prepared for. 

Almost automatically, he takes the apron off his head, holding it defensively to his chest. Acutely aware of the way his hands sink into the new padding that rounds his pecs. “Nothing.” 

Seokjin’s smile only widens at that. “Nothing.” He repeats, comedically unconvinced. Though he is looking at Taehyung with endearment, helpful almost. 

“Yes.” But Taehyung is too prideful.

“Okay…” The older doesn’t argue. “That’s a really nice shirt, would be a shame to spill oil paint on it.” 

“I won’t.” He purses his lips, shrugging bratty. “I was about to put it on.” Taehyung’s thick-headedness gets the best of him though, and he can feel it bite him in the ass when Seokjin crosses his arms and leans against the wall; expectant. 

“Go on then.” 

“With what?”

“Put it on. I’m gonna start the class on time, so…” Taehyung doesn’t check the clock to know if the clash should actually start soon or not. Not willing to show that he has anything to worry about. At least he knows they’re still the only two here, if the way Soekjin is acting is anything to go by. Taehyung knows by now that as confident as he likes to act, the TA would die of embarrassment to be caught flirting like this. 

Does this count as flirting? It feels like he is just tormenting Taehyung. 

“Whatever…” He mumbles, putting it over his head again. But not bothering to tie it behind him. “There. Happy?”

“You’re so stubborn, did anybody tell you that?” Seokjin’s tone is too soft to be taken seriously. 

“Endlessly.” 

“Do you want some help?” 

“No.” 

“Do you need help?” He rephases much to Taehyung’s dismay. 

“…Maybe.” His surrender is worth it for the cackle Seokjin lets out as he walks behind Taehyung. “B-but I doubt you can do anything.” He grumbles as he feels Seokjin’s knuckles brush against his fatty sides as he takes a hold of the straps. The rolls that won’t leave no matter how much he sucks in. 

“Let me try…” He can practically hear Seokjin’s concentrated frown as he brings the straps behind the younger; Taehyung can feel them sink into his folds once more. There’s a beat of silence, where Seokjin doesn’t move the straps and seems to be calculating his options. Taehyung doesn’t want to wonder what the view must be like for him from behind. Finally, he instructs. “Suck in.” 

“Tsk, you think I didn’t try that already?” He responds a little defensively. 

“Just do it!” Seokjin’s voice is close to a whine. And Taehyung ‘eughs’ but compiles. Taking in a deep breath and forcing his pudgy belly inwards.

There’s another beat of silence, before Seokjin talks again. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean that’s it?” Taehyung can’t help his voice sounds a little breathless, still holding in. The end of his sentence cut short as a tug of the straps coaxes the air out of him. Straps not only sinking further into his rolls, but the front of the apron beginning to fold into itself too, riding up the curve of his belly just a little.

“Suck in more!” 

“I can’t- OUF!” The sudden tug cinches, or at least tries to cinch, at Taehyung’s middle. Fat overspilling from over the straps in a poor attempt to resist the restrictions of the apron. 

“Yeah, we are gonna need some extra fabric for these straps.” 

“You didn’t need to choke me to know that.” Taehyung is still catching his breath. And once he stops sucking in, he can feel all of Seokjin’s efforts come undone as the straps go back to reaching the far back of his side rolls. 

“I wouldn’t need to help you at all if your apron fit.” Seokjin retorts, giving a light squeeze to one of Taehyung’s thick love handles before moving to the front desk in the classroom. Just in time to avoid the indignant turn Taehyugn does to face him. 

“It’s your fault I don’t fit into the apron.” Or any of my clothes, for that matter. He holds back from saying. Seokjin has his back to him as he rummages through the drawers of a desk that most definitely isn’t the TA’s. 

“What did I do?” There’s a chuckle attached at the end of his question. That makes Taehyung believe Seokjin knows exactly what he did. “Aha!” He doesn’t let the younger answer, as he pulls out… A string. 

Walking victorious towards Taehyung, this time with a charming smile, he instructs again. “Turn around.” He complies, too curious to question the older’s strategy. Taehyung turns around and lifts his arms a bit. 

He can feel Seokjin take one of the straps once more. And in the comfortable silence with a very concentrated tone he asks. “Where were we?”

“I was gonna tell you how you are responsible for my apron not fitting.” He deadpans. 

“Ah yes… Blasphemy.” Seokjin giggles behind him. Now he is grabbing the other strap. 

“It’s not! Your trick for critique-anxiety worked too well.” The younger hopes his pout is coming through his voice for Seokjin to hear. “I’m surprised you aren’t struggling to put in your aprons either.” 

“I used that trick maybe one or twice for my final exams. Not… every single critique I was ever given.”

“It’s not my fault I get more anxious than you.”

“Was critique-anxiety the one making you eat during your normal classes too? I’m surprised you didn’t bring any snacks to this one. I feel robbed.” 

“How did you know I was eating in other classes?” 

“You have a bit of a reputation by now, Tae.” The endearment is ever present in Seokjin’s voice. “There!” He stands up straight finally, giving Taehyung’s peaking love handles, exposed by all the cinching and tugging of his shirt, one last celebratory pat. Making them giggle right above the slightly tight waistband of Jungkook’s joggers. “Your apron now fits. You are very very welcome.” 

“Thanks…” Taehyung tries to twist and get a proper look at Seokjin’s contraption, the extra yarn sinking a little into the padding that now covers his back. “And what do you mean I have a reputation?” He snaps up to look Seokjin in the eyes. A little sense of dread coiling at his stomach. 

Or that might just be the apron restricting his belly. 

“Don’t look at me like it’s news to you. Do you think people weren’t gonna notice the guy walking in with a picnic’s worth of food into every class? Even professors know who you are.”  His face is starting to burn and even if he was the one to daringly try and lock eyes with Seokjin to get an answer from him, Taehyung isn’t quite liking what he is hearing. 

So… to make his case even worse, he eyes the clock. Still 15 minutes till class starts, he has time. “I’ll go buy some breakfast.” He states pouty, feeling heat flare at his cheeks. 

“That definitely will help the apron.” Seokjin’s comment is already far behind, because Taehyung is fleeing this humiliating scene with quick steps. He doesn’t turn around to respond, his face burns too much for him to do so. 

He won’t buy much, he tells himself. Just keep himself out of class long enough for other students to arrive. So Seokjin stops making him blush. 

The cafeteria is always a welcoming sight, the staff already knowing his face, much like in that bakery that he still very much goes to on a daily basis. Putting a polite smile for the staff as he begins buying anything he can get his hands on. Once he starts it’s so easy to just keep piling his plate. Getting his money’s worth on that student meal plan. But it’s so hard to stop. 

Only once Taehyung can’t physically fit more into his plate does he realize he overdid it. He glances at the wall clock again. Ten minutes. 

Taehyung can definitely manage to eat all this before class. 

With a decided nod he takes his plate to one of the empty tables, still a bit before most students start to get lunch. And Taehyung will definitely be there with everyone else a second time too, even if his meal plan doesn’t cover it. He knows his hunger won’t let him skip a meal, no matter how much he ate before. 

He feels like such a pig. Out of control and eating to avoid the nerves and the confrontation that Seokjin seems so comfortable bringing to his class. Forcing Taehyung to acknowledge just how fat he got. 

And that maybe it’s not entirely Seokjin’s fault either. 

Taehyung shovels that thought right to the back of his mind where it belongs with a bite of his food. He wasn’t entirely aware of what he had gotten either. It was a nice surprise when sweet cinnamon batter took over his lips. Sweet, of course he got sweet. The taste so addictive and soothing to his body, he can’t help his other hand reach for something else to bring to his lips, a cookie. Taehyung can pretty much feel the clock ticking, interchangeably taking bites of the two baked goods, looking like a ravenous animal in front of the few people scattered across the cafeteria. 

10 minutes, he reminds himself, forcing to stretch his lips with bigger bites, mixing the sweets as he goes. Not caring if the tastes don’t fit or blur together. All Taehyung wants is for the comforting ballooned feeling to take over him.

The one that gets him to forget about critiques.

About Seokjin’s charming smile.

About how he managed to get so fat in the course of the semester. Ironically. 

He is starting to feel it. Bloat beginning to make his shirt ride up a little bit at his side. 

No, not his shirt. 

Jungkook’s oversized shirt. 

The stretch of his stomach making his belly, that now was covered in a thick layer of chub no matter the size of the bloat, press harder against the poor apron. Taehyung can feel the way the extra lace Seokjin used to tie the knot, sinks into the fat padding that covers his lower back. 

5 minutes, he glances at the clock. And he still has nearly half of his serving left. Maybe he underestimated himself. 

Maybe, Taehyung isn’t as much of a pig as Seokjin’s eyes make him out to be. 

He leans closer to the plate in an attempt to make the food pass the stretch of his opened lips faster. But he feels something snap behind him, and a sudden pressure release from his swollen abdomen. 

The straps of his apron broke. 

That gets him to stop eating. Staring at the plate blankly. Refusing to get a proper look at himself. 

Taehyung definitely won’t be attending class. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Jimin can’t see another video of “music majors when they remember they need listen to a song due at midnight”. The ones Jungkook doesn’t get tired of sending him. Excuse you, Jimin spends more time in his home-made studio than Jungkook does in his silly little labs. No, he doesn’t have a song-listening due at midnight. Jimin has to finish the rough demos of a soundtrack by the end of the week. Not quite the same, no. 

These thoughts keep running through his mind as Jimin leans inches away from his monitor, FL Studio open as his own raw creation blasts through his overly expensive (maybe a little pretentious) headphones. He heard Jungkook and Taehyung come in at some point in the night, he is sure they’ve taken care of dinner. Lately this apartment has started to ditch the “skipping meals” plan that most broke students seemed to adopt. But Jimin always has a hard time remembering to take breaks when he has projects like his one plaguing his mind. 

It’s 2 am already. He can wait until he has this one song finished before forcing himself to the kitchen. The weight of this project already lulling his senses and numbing him to such trivial things like eating and “drinking something that doesn’t have caffeine”. Jimin is way beyond the line of feeling uncomfortable, having pulled several late nights of work, letting Taehyung’s snoring guide the beat of his songs. Rolling around to class the next morning looking worse than in his prima-ballerina days. Jimin works nearly in autopilot as he adds layers of texture to the song, he doesn’t care if it’s shit. He just wants it to be finished. 

Done. 

And it’s only… 3:45am.

Fuck. 

He needs to eat something and go to bed. 

Nothing could’ve prepared him for the complete masacre of what used to be “dinner”. Absolutely nothing, the hogs of his roommates left him nothing. 

Jimin thought he had it under control. The stress, his emotions, the hunger. But his eyes begin to water against him. He doesn’t have anything to eat! And he has been looking forward to it for hours! And he is sure his roommates didn’t mean to but his bottom lip is wobbling against his will and he has to cup his lips before he dejectedly walks back to his room. Sniffs heard throughout the room. 

In an attempt to distract himself, he downloads the file and sends it to Yoongi. Rubbing his eyes and leaning on his chair, his entire body catching up with him, pain swelling on his lower back and his knees as he tries to stretch.

And as if to make matters worse, his stomach complains with a roar. 

He can’t help it, his face is scrunching up and sniffles are making his body spasm gently and his shoulders tense with each shaky intake of air. Before he can stop it, his hands are covering his face, where he feels himself begin to cry. 

Ping!

The notification noise anticlimactically cuts him off. Hands leaving his face to peak at his phone. 

yoongi hyung: what are you doing up 

you: what are YOU doing up?!

yoongi hyung: i asked first. 

you: was finishing the thing i sent you

you: and crying

Jimin is one to try and find humor in his everyday misery, but he does feel a little guilt when he sees Yoongi take a bit longer to reply. 

yoongi hyung: why were you crying?

It’s his time to ponder his answer. And, deciding he doesn’t want to get a lecture about his time management skills and Jimin’s incredible ability to neglect his basic needs, he chooses something that’s still very much true. 

you: tae and kook didn’t save me any food (｡•́︿•̀｡)

His response is immediate then. 

yoongi hyung: wanna come over? 

yoongi hyung: I also need your opinion on something. 

Tsk.

yoongi hyung: and i got food

Sold. 

you: be there in a bit!

Jimin tries to be quiet. But also, when he worries about possibly waking up his roommates, he quickly realizes he doesn’t care. 

Serves them right. Hmf. 

He texts Yoongi when he is outside, really not waiting to wake Hoseok up. He doesn’t deserve it. But to his surprise it’s him who opens the door for the younger. 

“Oh. Hobi hyung.” Jimin pouts a little worried. And the older beats him to it. 

“If you’re going to apologize, don’t. I was awake too.” His smile is gentle, but his hair is a little messy and his face is a little puffed up.

Either Hoseok is lying and Yoongi and him totally woke him up. Or the couple was having a fun night and Jimin interrupted. 

He doesn’t know which one makes him feel worse. 

“Still, thanks.” Jimin’s smile is a little guilty but some of his worry smelt away when he hugs Hoseok tight. A little bit of that uncomfortable tension on his body leaving with the lithe (but strong) man squeezes at his sides. 

“Yoongi is in the kitchen. Only you can get him to start cooking at 4am.” 

“He told me he had food already!” Jimin whines as he walks in.

“Well…He lied. I offered to grab something from a convenience store. But you know Yoongi wouldn’t let you have that.” The chuckle attached at the end of his sentence screams endearment. Jimin follows behind him into the couple’s apartment like his second home. Which it practically is. 

Yoongi and Hoseok were both the ones to first introduce him to music in highschool. And Jimin was the witness of the very beginnings of the most obnoxiously romantic couple he knows. A delicious smell already takes over the cozy apartment. “Hyung, you’re cooking for me?” He smiles teasing when they make their way to the kitchen. Loving to tease whenever Yoongi shows his tender side; the one that always comes when Jimin needs it most. 

“And I might throw it all out if you don’t shut it.” He pouts and Jimin only giggles, launching forward for a back hug to the other. His cheek pressing to his shoulder. 

“You wouldn’t.” He says with certainty, and a shit-eating smile. “You love me.” Jimin doesn’t care if Yoongi doesn’t answer, all he needs is a quick peek at what the older is cooking. Kimchi jjigae, Jimin’s personal favorite. 

“Go go to the studio.” He tries to shimmy Jimin off. “Babee.” The youngest feels particularly accomplished when he gets Yoongi to whine for his partner. Hoseok chuckles behind them both, taking Jimin’s hand gently. 

“Come on, we can set up in the office.” Jimin doesn’t need much convincing. Easy to manhandle around as Hoseok drops his arm over the youngest’s shoulders. He can’t help it, being in both of their presence is so soothing. That and the all nighter (or week of consecutive all nighters) is catching up to him.

He comes here so often, the little room turned into a studio not only has two chairs for the producer couple, but a third one for Jimin’s frequent visits. Well… He visited a lot more often before this hellish semester. But it still feels like home when he tiredly plops down smiling at Hoseok. 

“I missed you.” He says simply, getting Hoseok’s expression to soften as he sits beside him. “Sorry for crashing your sex.” And his sleepy state immediately ruins it; judging by the choked sound Hoseok lets out.

“Don’t worry about it.” He says instead of denying it. In his sleepy state, Jimin’s mind unhelpfully provides him with mental images. 

Not that he’s thought about this before. Or anything. 

Yoongi thankfully interrupts his brain, kimchi jjigae bowl in his hand. “You said you sent me something to listen to?” He takes a seat at Jimin’s other side. Who can’t answer because he is already shoveling a mouthful of stew into his cheeks. He only nods. “Let’s give it a listen then.” 

The youngest gulps suddenly then. “R-right now?” He can’t help the nerves. Hoseok is right here, he only shows Hoseok his finished pieces and this was just a rough demo. His eyes darted to both of his sides, suddenly self conscious. Jimin doesn’t know if he can handle the exposure right now. 

But he doesn’t exactly know how to tell that to his two hyungs. Because that would just mean he has something to be self conscious about. And yes, Jimin has endlessly heard both Hoseok and Yoongi tell him that demos don’t have to be perfect. Jimin just chooses to not apply that to himself. 

“S-sure, sure, let’s play it.” Jimin corrects himself. Not very smoothly. But after an exchange of looks between Yoongi and Hoseok, they decide to give into it anyway. 

“Fine. But we aren’t giving feedback until tomorrow.” Hoseok states opening the file on Yoongi’s computer. 

“What? Why?” He pouts.

“Because if you knew you could fix something you wouldn’t sleep at all.” There’s an endeared chuckle attached to the end of his sentence, and a big warm hand massaging the base of Jimin’s neck. But even that is not enough to soothe the sudden knot that tied into his stomach. 

Feeling the dread as the file downloads, and Hoseok starts opening the producing software that’s much better than his; Jimin busies himself with the first thing he finds. And that’s the delicious homemade dinner Yoongi made him. Leaning back on the chair, his knees up to his chest and the bowl close to his face as he begins to scarf down the delicious homemade stew. It takes over his senses, warmth trickling down his throat and setting perfectly on his stomach. 

Jimin would much rather focus on that. Especially motivated as the first chords of his demo start to play in the expensive speaker system. He buries the first beginnings of stomach-twisting cringe with warm spicy goodness. Lulling his senses and soothing his heart rate. Almost warming along the knots of his back and relaxing them at least somewhat. The speakers are too loud though, pulling Jimin back to the stress of this assignment. The endless work, endless stress. The endless idea in the back of his mind that he has his two idols to live up to. 

It only encourages him to tilt the bowl a little upwards and begin to focus into slurping it down. Not caring if all the broth begins to settle a little uncomfortable in his stomach. He welcomes the feeling, it drowns out everything else. The breathing through his nose echoing in the actually quite big ceramic bowl. The warmth of the food making its way down and curling at his belly in a way that makes his head feel fuzzy and nice. The demo becomes background white noise as his thick gulps become louder and rhythmic, easy to get lost in. 

He is gasping for air the moment the song plays its last chords. He completely spared himself from the experience, he realized gleefully. But immediately after, realizes Jimin ate all that food in the 4 minutes the song lasted. Or well… He doesn’t realize, per se, his stomach makes a very painful statement; accompanied with a loud embarrassing rumble. Loud enough that makes both Hoseok and Yoongi turn their heads to him for the first time in the night.

At least Jimin hopes so, he wouldn’t want to seem like a pig in front of them. 

“You finished it?” Hoseok is the one to ask, shock clear in his voice. 

“He hasn’t eaten a thing in who knows how long, leave him alone.” Yoongi hushes him with a pout, before turning to Jimin; who is having to concentrate on his breathing. “Want some dessert with that?” 

Even turning his head to face Yoongi feels like a heavy effort. Lips a little tingly from the spice of the stew. Parted as he breathes heavily, having to collect his hazy thoughts even to realize what he’s being asked. Let alone what he wants. 

“N–no… No, I ate too fast.” He sighs, Hoseok sets his hand on Jimin’s thigh, rubbing endeared. 

“Okay, we heard your thing. So it’s bedtime now.” His chuckle is gentle, and Jimin can feel Hoseok’s knuckles brush against his rounded tummy when his rubbing inches up his thigh, just before rubbing back down. It makes him realize just how big the portion was, looking down at himself as he nods lazily. Jimin sees the curve that pushes against his snug shirt. Little but no less mesmerizing. 

Jimin has never bloated like that. 

He is too entranced to hear the couple get up, only when Jimin’s vision is obscured by a hand that’s a lot less dainty than Hoseok; Yoongi’s. “Come on, up.” He looks up tiredly and dumbly. As if all his blood is leaving his head and traveling down to circle his stomach and help him digest. That mixed with the sleep deprivation making him lethargic, almost drunk-like. 

The grunt Jimin lets out as he stands makes the two older giggle. They each wrap an arm around Jimin’s lower back, letting him melt in their hold as they walk to bed. 

“I can take the futon.” Yoongi mumbles to Hoseok, basically hearing their silent communication as he stares ahead. Jimin’s head snaps back up to obstruct their vision at both his sides. 

“Your bed is big enough.” He states simply. Not asking before he plops in the middle of the bed, not questioning its state of messy. Shifting perfectly in the middle till he looks at them both with a smile. 

They’ve done this so many times already, it only takes the couple a few seconds to recompose themselves as they walk to the bed too, to lay at Jimin’s sides. Making the younger feel properly at peace, the memories of his stress and how awful he had felt about his demo already blurred by the nice rumbling sensation of his stomach digesting. His thoughts silenced, only a faint comment going on in his head as he falls asleep. 

He should definitely try this more often for all his producing sessions.   

They wake up at noon. At least Jimin does, the bed is empty and the sunlight is warming the covers perfectly. The sound of faint talking comes from outside, and it’s not nearly as strong as the smell of food. 

Looks like today he will be putting his theory to the test. 

He has lunch first thing, and then Yoongi and Hoseok make a spot for him in their home studio. That, now that he has the full proper hours of sleep, he finally notices how much better and more professional it is than the one he has at home. He isn’t sure if it’s the most productive Saturday afternoon of his life. But it’s definitely the one he’s enjoyed producing the most in. At least for the last few… semesters. 

When he leaves, the couple makes sure to tell him that “You always have a free spot here if you need some creative break.” And Jimin clings to that. It’s perfect, isn’t it? Jimin gets to see his hyungs more often, rekindle the relationship he had neglected ever since getting overworked in college. But not feel too guilty about hanging out with them since he gets to be productive too!

He doesn’t even have to think it the few days later when he texts them to hang out again. And Jimin welcomes it with open arms, even  when it becomes a couple-of-times-a-week thing. Getting to eat their delicious cooking and work on his projects without the churning of his stomach distracting him, or overworking himself to the point where his lower back stabs for a break. 

Yoongi will always go to the bathroom and come back with snacks for everyone but Jimin mostly works his way through them, Hoseok will stretch and whine a bit and urge Jimin to watch some short episodes of the shitty reality shows (that jimin tried to resist before inevitably getting invested in) as a break. Usually accompanied by some delivery, doesn’t have to be a meal, sometimes it’s ice cream or some baked goods “to boost up energy”. And around lunch and dinner, they all get up to just hang out around the kitchen.

The youngest hasn’t felt this well rested in ages. And… Ironically, workflow hasn’t been this smooth in ages either. Jimin spares himself from saying that out loud and getting a big fat “I told you so.” from both of them. But it’s clear they know, from the way they encourage Jimin and praise their work and praise how much more energetic he sounds and how his work starts feeling a little bit more creative and alive. 

He personally would blame having his two biggest inspirations in the room with him while he produces, but he supposes the sleep and food have something to do with it too. 

Jungkook and Taehyung won’t stop teasing him about it. But they just don’t get the friendship he has with Hoseok and Yoongi. A relationship that feels like he isn’t just regaining the closeness he had with the couple, but Jimin feels impossibly closer than ever before. Maybe the age difference was too apparent in highschool. Now that they’re all adults, Jimn can feel the way Yoongi and Hoseok treat him differently, letting him get closer. 

Babying him still, always. But they trust Jimin more, not trying to guard him as much as they used to in highschool. Guarding that only resulted in forced distance. When Jimin wanted nothing more than to get close… 

Maybe a little too close. 

He’s matured now, and so has their relationship. Jimin is fine with this. His crush in highschool was definitely a little too noticeable, and probably the reason why the couple tried to restrain themselves around the younger. Though now, he gets to see them behave like a couple. And it’s nothing short of endearing. 

The way Yoongi’s hands always find their way to Hoseok’s skin even in subtle ways. When it happens, even if he is deeply concentrated working, or halfway through talking, a small smile brightens Hoseok’s face.They can’t get enough of each other, Jimin would feel bad about third wheeling if it weren’t such a delight to see. 

Or if the food weren’t so delicious. 

And if the couple’s bed weren’t so comfy. 

His semester started like one of the worst in Jimin’s university years, and now he doesn’t remember ever being this easy going with all his assignments. With the olders’ assistance and inspiration, and care. It was like producing had never been easier. But he still can’t help getting nervous whenever it’s time to show his work to either Yoongi or Hoseok. Or worse, both of them. 

Today Jimin should feel relieved, it’s the day he is finally handing in that assignment, the soundtrack he had been working on for most of the second half of the year. But Jimin can’t give himself the pleasure, because he knows Yoongi and Hoseok won’t let him get by this achievement without them listening to it. 

Thankfully, though, the couple prepared a celebration feast. So at least Jimin will have something to keep busy with as the 20 minutes of soundtrack play in the background. The sole trick that has been getting him through every work session with his hyungs. 

Tonight, his distraction is looking like a big big portion of KFC. Because he mumbled craving fried chicken a few days ago, and of course, Yoongi and Hoseok weren’t gonna let that slide. He is eager to silence the jittery feeling down his navel, anxious to know what they will think of all this hard work. 

In the back of his mind, Jimin knows they would never say any critique without the perfect words. And Jimin knows how to take critiques, he doesn’t mind them! Unlike Taehyung. But something about them makes Jimin’s lower back shiver with goosebumps. 

So he doesn’t hold back from picking up the bucket of fried chicken and bringing it to his lap. Beginning to eat even as Yoongi starts to decompress the zip file of Jimin’s album. The crunch perfect to drown out the noise around him, that and the oily delicious flavor giving him something nice to focus on. Already chewing on a drumstick as the first chords start to play on Yoongi’s nice speakers. 

He’s heard these songs so many times, engraved them into his mind through the course of the semester, that they’re surprisingly easy to let fade into the background. That or the chicken is too good. Jimin closes his eyes too, for full immersion. During the last few months, with him inhabiting Yoongi and Hoseok’s apartment more than ever before, he has actually grown somewhat of a resistance. It’s harder to have enough food to distract him for as long as he needs. 

Jimin has gotten faster at eating, is what he wants to say. 

But all this chicken should last him enough. Or at least long enough till he is full and hazy and able to drown out the critical ear that plagues him whenever he is forced to listen to any of his work. His chewing becomes more fervent as he starts to nip the drumstick clean of meat. Letting himself get lost in the hunger he feels. Convincing himself at least. 

It’s been a while since Jimin felt properly hungry. Impossible under his hyungs’ care. But still, he convinces himself to grab another piece of fried chicken even as he is still chewing the first one, barely managing to swallow as he pushes the new one in. Focusing on anything but the music, the crunchiness of the fried batter, resonating between his ears, the oil coating his tongue and the roof of his mouth, the taste that’s so delicious it makes Jimin feel the closest next thing to hunger. 

Gluttony. 

Relishing the sensation of warmth that spreads at the bottom of his stomach. The faster he eats the more time he has before he realizes just how heavily all this food is gonna make him feel later. Though, Jimin has realized, he doesn’t mind that heavy hazy aftermath either. In fact, it motivates him even more, the soundtrack becoming plain background noise. As he fully succumbs to it, each hand with a piece of chicken as Jimin loses his manners in an attempt to fit as much food as he can.  Stretching his lips around him, thankful that he is sitting a little bit behind the two older producers, so they can’t see him like this. Desperate and unmannered. But he bets the animalistic chewing sounds are revealing enough. 

It does the trick though, the music sounding more pleasant the fuller he gets, leaning back in his chair with the bucket still on his lap as he continues to eat at a more heinous and lethargic pace, wanting to keep this sedated high state for the entire duration of the soundtrack. He can feel his bloat begin to brush the bucket of chicken, but he doesn’t feel as full, not yet at least. 

Like he said, he’s built some resistance, even if he feels his stomach press against the fabric of his shirt and the bucket flush against his tummy. Jimin feels like he definitely has more room to finish this serving at least. 

As the soundtrack reaches its climax, so does he, his eating becoming impossibly more ravenous even as he starts feeling a proper tightness down his navel. Even if he has to push the chicken past his lips a little more forcefully, and leaning to eat the drumsticks becomes a little bit harder with the tautness of his bloat. The pile of clean bones collecting at the bottom of the bucket. 

Whipping his oily fingers on his shirt, sensation the curved stiffness of his belly. The pressure of his hands a welcoming feeling, it releases some of the tight stretch that makes his breathing a little heavier. Or that might just be the way he is suffocating himself with pieces of fried chicken, edges of his lips hurting a bit as he stretches over the humongous bites. Probably both. 

He has never timed it more perfectly, one oily hand reaching for the bucket while the other throws another clean bone in, and finds that he had finished it. Just as the last outro song begins to play. Jimin opens his eyes for the first time since he started eating, looking down at the bucket to find that yeah, he finished it. The warmth that spreads across his stomach borders on painful, but he adores it nonetheless, soothing and numbing. He can see his bloat too, stretching the shirt tight and pressing back against the bucket, rounded out cutely. A small plushness rounding the bottom of it. 

Though when Jimin looks up, he sees both Hoseok and Yoongi looking over their shoulders at him. The mess he made. 

The mess he turned himself into. 

“I thought we were eating after… to celebrate.” Hoseok is the first to comment, an endeared smile growing on his face. Oh… They had… mentioned something along those lines. 

“I—” Jimin tries to speak, though his voice sounds thick and greasy with all the oil. And speaking itself feels like an extension on his poor breathless state. Seems like Yoongi takes pity on him. 

“Leave him, he was hungry.” He wasn’t, and by the little smile Yoongi has on, he seems to be thinking the same. “Wanna go to bed, Min?” His tone is so gentle with him, like Yoongi knows just how lethargic and drowsy he feels right now. 

“N-no…” He huffs out a breath after the sentence, like itself is an effort. “What did you think?” 

“I don’t know if you’re awake enough to hear.” Hoseok giggles, getting a light slap to the thigh from his boyfriend. Prompting him to correct himself. “We loved it, Jiminie. Your hard work shows.” 

“Really?” His tone sounds childishly hopeful as it does sleepy. 

“Yes.” Though Hoseok’s tone sounds genuine nonetheless. “Your take on things is so unique, Jimin.” 

That seems to settle him, Yoongi prompts. “You can go to bed, I’ll take this.” He stands up and picks up the empty bucket. Leaving Jimin bare to his impressive bloat. The hem of his shirt even rode up a little at the very bottom, leaving a sliver of skin he hadn’t noticed before. But he is painfully self aware now. Blush creeping up his cheeks as he tries to fold his arms over his torso in a way that’s casual, but also hides the damage. 

Jimin knows he is unsuccessful when Hoseok giggles. “It’s not that bad, Minnie.” 

“I look huge…” The words slip out easier and less filtered when he is this full, all that food lulling him to sleep. 

“Well it suits you a bit.” Hoseok is standing up too, offering a hand. “Come, let’s get you to bed.” That sounds like the best idea anyone has ever had. 

He’s overeaten a lot in this apartment, looking for ways to sedate himself into enjoying his music more. But never was it this hard to stand up, even with Hoseok’s hearty pull upwards Jimin can’t help a grunt slipping from the back of his throat. Feeling all the food in his stomach shift with the movement, he has to cup the (naked) bottom of his bloat for some comfort. It’s not that taut. 

Hoseok is there to help, wrapping a slim arm around Jimin’s waist, letting the dainty palm settle on the side of his tummy as they slowly make their way to the bedroom. The younger feels his breath shallow as if he had come from a marathon. Every step making his bloat bounce against the waistband of his sweatpants and aching a little in the process. He’s never been more thankful for the cozy size of Hoseok and Yoongi’s apartment, because it’s only a few meters before he is plopping heavily onto the center of the bed. The movement caused a burp to push its way out of his lips. Jimin whines and throws his head back, careless enough to let both of his hands settle on the curve of his bloat and massage the tight skin. Coaxing a few more burps to slip out, though he lets them fill out his cheeks instead of ripping them out. 

He can feel Hoseok’s eyes on him, even with Jimin’s own eyes closed in a mixture of bliss and discomfort. Hearing a few footsteps get nearer. When Hoseok mumbles “Look at him.” His smile is audible too. 

“Are you alright, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi’s voice has a chuckle attached to the end of it, and Jimin can feel the bed shift as the older makes his way to sit next to him. He wants to answer, of course, but all that leaves him is a pouty whine. Opening his eyes only to put them in puppy mode for both of his hyungs. 

“Want a heat pad?” Yoongi’s voice offers kindly. 

“We leant it to my sister.” Hoseok comments, though his voice feels closer. And sure enough, there’s another feeling of shift at Jimin’s other side. “But I think we can give him something else.” Trustful, Jimin doesn’t bother to open his eyes to know what that is. But instead he feels the grazing of Hoseok’s soft but cold fingers against the center of his bloat. “Can we?” He doesn’t need to specify, Jimin knows they both saw him massaging his gut after stuffing himself. 

All he does is nod, before Hoseok’s palm is pressing flush to the warm skin, his fingers are squishing at the center of his taut stomach. Jimin’s jaw drops, a soft gasp leaving his lips. “Is this okay?” It prompts the question, that he answers wordlessly again with a quick eager nod. 

The extra reassurance makes another hand graze a bit lower on his stomach, not as soft, calloused, but warmer. So irrevocably Yoongi’s. His massages are slower but firm, some of it pressing against the naked bit of skin. Though only for a few seconds, before he tugs down (or tries to) the hem of Jimin’s shirt. Only for it to ride back up again to sit on the biggest part of his bloat. Yoongi doesn’t bother to pull it down a second time. Instead, the tips of his fingers, roughened up by the guitar, slip under the hem. Making Jimin sigh in relief, the older’s hand like a heat pad on its own, as Yoongi begins to slowly grip and knead the bottom. 

Hoseok takes initiative. Not just letting his hand slip under the snug shirt. But tugging it further up Jimin’s torso. Exposing the rounded out, swollen tummy, his hand setting on the hardest part right at the top. The gentle pressure makes a groan slip from the back of his throat, throwing his head back. 

“You really overdid it, Min-ah…” Hoseok muses, there’s a teasing tone hiding somewhere under his warm voice. But Jimin feels too much bliss to properly acknowledge it, thighs shuddering as his back arches to their touches. 

Yoongi is painfully quiet, but his hand keeps moving slowly along the bottom of his belly. Massaging what feels like a bloat, but is somewhat easy on the hands, easier than the top where Hoseok’s hand is. Pudgy…

A choked sound leaves his lips, it errands a small but no-less teasing chuckle from Hoseok. “That’s it, you worked so hard today.” His voice sounds closer to Jimin’s ear. The warmth coming from his stomach only grew with the presence of the older next to him. 

“Don’t hold back.” Hoseok’s breath brushes against his ear and it’s a sudden contrast with the warmth that’s beginning to emanate from his skin. His heavy breathing hitches, feeling not only the bloat coaxing wheezes of air, but Hoseok’s closeness too. That does nothing to help his breathing either. And he is sure Hoseok knows his impact, his smile pretty much palpable when he hums. “Hm?” 

Jimin doesn’t think he can answer something properly in the stuffed state he is in. Let alone with the way his heart skips a beat. 

“O–Okay.” He manages to whisper, letting his head tilt to the side, meeting Hoseok’s shoulder. 

“That’s it.” The older’s voice is barely above a whisper, the hand on the shelf of Jimin’s rounded bloat pushing him closer to Hoseok’s side, to lean a bit of his weight against his lithe torso. He doesn’t resist the guidance, not caring about the suffocating heat if he is sharing it with Hoseok. But the push against the top of his stomach, it makes him grunt at first, feeling the tight pressure. 

And as he shifts his hips lethargically, though, a deep burp comes out. Right next to Hoseok’s face. 

That makes Jimin’s eyes pop open, feeling pretty much the bucket of ice water that showers him. Meeting Hoseok’s equally widened expression. 

“Pfthahahah!” Bubbly giggles make Hoseok’s body shake. A sense of relief washing over Jimn’s suddenly tense muscles. As Jimin follows along with a shy chuckle. He notices, Hoseok wasn’t watching him. He was watching at Yoongi. 

Jimin had almost forgotten about him. And he is met with a stoic, serious expression; a tint of pink on his face. Was it always that color? 

“I think you should go to sleep, Jiminie.” Hoseok interrupts the younger’s analysis with a smile. His hands guiding Jimin away from his own body to lay fully against the bed. He doesn’t fight back but he probably has a confused pouty expression on his face. Luckily Hoseok seems to notice. “We haven’t had dinner yet.” His tone is so endeared. “We’ll come back to you in a bit, okay?” 

Jimin can only nod, his eyes avoiding Hoseok as he continues to study Yoongi’s expression. But the eldest doesn’t look back. Staring at some spot in the mattress. 

“Night, Min.” Hoseok’s hand combs his fringe out of his forehead as he stands up, Yoongi following suit. But only mumbling a quiet:

“Night.” 

Jimin stays quiet himself, controlling his breathing as he watches the couple walk out of the room. 

He doesn’t know what just happened, but he is pretty certain he ruined it. But, the now soothed, warmness clinging to his belly is pulling also at his eyelids, lulling him to sleep. 

Though he is soothed to find the couple snoring besides him when he wakes up. 

Not all that ruined, then. 

It would make sense… Now that Jimin’s semester project is finished, and his vacations are starting, Jimin doesn’t have a need to be hanging out at their apartment to stress-manage once every two days. 

But they keep inviting him. And…. Jimin really likes their company. And their apartment is much nicer than the shoebox he is sharing with Jungkook and Taehyung. And now he can just hang out with them without the stress of his assignments. 

It’s a no-brainer. 

And, if he felt the couple slowly open up to him more during these months, putting down the walls they had with Jimin in highschool.Now it’s like Jimin can free himself too. Letting himself hang out in their apartment and not just their secluded studio. Hanging out happily on the couch, Hoseok by his side, feeling comfortable enough to cuddle close. Until Yoongi got back from his music teacher gig and then they started working on dinner. 

Or even going out vinyl shopping with Yoongi, since Hoseok thinks he has an obsession. And getting to hear the older talk for hours, even asking for Jimin’s opinion on which he prefers. They stop to get take out and bring it back home, to eat dinner while they listen to the entire thing. With Hoseok’s too-warm-to-be-disapproving expression on his face. 

And Jimin still sleeps in their bed, with them. For tradition’s sake, of course. 

He could also argue it’s for the sake of tradition the way his eating hasn’t diminished in the slightest. Even if a situation like that hasn’t repeated again, and Jimin truly doesn’t have an excuse to stuff himself at that anxious desperate pace anymore, he’s now switched to a constant state of snacking. 

Now that he doesn’t have assignments to keep him concentrated, or to have prize-meals, once he finishes said assignments; and that he is all around just hanging out more at their house. Jimin began to make himself comfortable in the couple’s kitchen. Feeling free to rummage through cabinets; during the course of the summer finding more and more of his favorites. Which might have something to do with the one time (in their moment of peak domesticity) Jimin went with the couple to buy groceries and they let him pick out a few things since “you’re there often enough.” 

A joke when he heard it, but those things have become now regular stock in the Min-Jung household. Much to Jimin’s detriment. When he once felt embarrassed to only be at the couple’s house to work on his assignments. Now he feels guilty of emptying their kitchen.

But they’re so encouraging. If not to say, they’re the ones filling Jimin’s plate. Whether it’s giving him second or sometimes third servings of their dinner. Or taking the empty bowl of snacks Jimin has by his side on the couch, only to come back with it filled again. And all this on top of Jimin’s slow wanderings into the kitchen, standing on his toes as he reaches for the couple’s cabinets. Already accustomed with where to find his stuff, and stray away from Hoseok’s granola (He’s invited Jimin to try it… but he’s grown a taste for… yummier things). 

Jimin notices a shift, Hoseok cuddles him closer, even if the situation like the one of his last assignment didn’t repeat. Hoseok’s hands still wander and pat and praise where they can get away with. Which is way more than whatever Hoseok is doing. But he likes this. The push and pull, the giddy smiles and playful glances. It feels like something that would’ve made highschool Jimin swoon, but now not only is he different and (in his personal opinion) much better and matured, but Hoseok is too. These past months it’s felt like all he has been doing is rediscovering his old crushes and falling for their new selves all over again. 

He hasn’t been noticing that shift… with Yoongi. Always friendly, always warm. Always indulging to Jimin. But at arms length. Still some of that hesitance from highschool clinging to him. The younger can’t say he blames him. But instead he is getting mixed feelings about all the attention Hoseok has been giving him.

Is this okay?

Nothing ever actually happened, Jimin could really just be making all this up, his highschool hopes and dreams coming back to haunt him; due to all the Hoseok-Yoongi exposure. He can imagine it. Yoongi and Hoseok looking at him with a fond warm smile, the one they’ve given Jimin all of his youth. Seeing the two of them fall in love while they were probably aware of the younger’s feelings. Kind but so impossibly condescending. The idea of possibly putting himself in that position is enough of a motivation to push these thoughts to the back of his mind; and rather enjoy this while he can. 

Living almost exclusively in his gym shorts, the waistband of which feels tighter as the summer goes on. The hems at his legs digging into his thighs when they’ve never done that before. Sinking into his ass as he walks. All his shirts are constantly stretched over… his belly. 

This lethargic lifestyle… It made Jimin gain a few. Maybe more. He’d worry about it if Hoseok and Yoongi weren’t treating him all the same, encouraging and doting him with anything he wants. And, Hoseok in particular, Jimin is sure he is touchier. Patting him all over, maybe that’s when Jimin should have noticed the fact he was getting softer all around, before properly plumping up. But… Hoseok’s praise and hands feel too good to focus on anything else. 

It was definitely there, though. Comments like “Your appetite nowadays is something else.” When Jimin is reaching for thirds, stomach is already heavy with a meal but still roomy for more. Still not stuffed over the edge, where he gets breathless, red, and a little sweaty. 

“Got you a refill. Since I know you can work your way through a whole bag of these.” He chuckles while setting another bowl of cookies next to Jimin on the couch. His usual spot in the house nowadays. Even when he is producing he hasn’t been in the studio much at all. He likes to joke that it gives him war flashbacks. 

He feels a bit like an idiot for not noticing. Only really realizing he’s fattened up when he needs to pull his gym shorts under his belly. That hangs comfortably over the waistband and pushes forward, squishy muffin top clinging to his shirt too. Probably the only thing keeping it from riding up the curve of his gut. Though he can feel the sliver of skin up his chubby back when he sinks into his comfortable side of the couch. 

The tightness follows up his thickened waist, where rolls were stacking up comfortably. There’s a logo on the front of his shirt, that’s stretched white from the expanse of his chest. Rounded, pudgy and emasculated. He gives a tentative squeeze. No sight of muscle, thumb and index sinking right in. 

Even the sleeves feel tight sinking into the new chub that hangs from his arms. And the collar of the shirt seems nearly suffocating. Not to mention, this has been the hardest summer has ever been for him. Needing the constant company of the AC. He turns it off out of pity for Hoseok and Yoongi’s electricity bill. But it’s only a few minutes until he starts getting sticky with sweat. 

Jimin hasn’t just gained a few, he’s fat. And he let himself be blissfully ignorant for most of the summer. 

But, then again, Hoseok doesn’t seem to be against it. 

And Yoongi… Well he hasn’t even acknowledged it even happened. 

Hoseok must be the only one who has a thing for it. Just like he seems to be the one who has a thing for Jimin anyway….

If he sounds a bit sulky. He is. 

Though, his conflicted feelings about his weight gain, liking it, liking Hoseok like it, and feeling frustrated at Yoongi’s lack of response, aren’t enough to keep him from showing up. Lately he doesn’t even have to warn the couple, Jimin knows their schedules already. 

Yoongi opens the door for him. “Hey.” Even if he wanted to, Jimin can’t read into Yoongi’s actions. Always so genuine and so particularly warm towards the younger. 

“Hi hyung.” He really tries not to let his own intentions with them ruin the amazing relationship he already has, especially with Yoongi. Who’s only ever given support and love in Jimin’s life. They reach for a hug, the few instances in which Yoongi ever so much as touches him. But they’re always the same, perfectly respectable. His broad hands spread in the upper part of Jimin’s back. Even as the younger’s belly is big enough to overspill from the sides of Yoongi’s torso. Not too long. Perfectly standard. Almost calculated when he separates.

Okay, maybe Jimin is reading too deep into Yoongi.

“Smells delicious.” He puts a giddy smile on his face, and Yoongi rolls his eyes. As if pretending the only reason he didn’t go above and beyond in his cooking is Jimin’s almost daily appearances. 

“Got some Ssambap ready.” That answer alone makes Jimin groan in delight as he walks further into the apartment. 

“Hiii!” He exclaims, waiting for an eager Hoseok to rush to greet him. Give him a proper hug. Hmf. “Is he in the studio?” It wouldn’t be the first time he had to pretty much keep his hand pressed on the doorbell to get the producer couple to take off their headphones and notice he was outside. 

“No, no, Miss Jung had some problems with her car. Hoseok just went to help out.” That makes Jimin’s head turn over his shoulder. Shit-eating smile already on his face. 

“Miss Jung?” 

“Hoseok’s mom.” Yoongi states simply.

“You call your boyfriend’s mom ‘Miss’?” He can’t help the giggle that slips out as he says it. Getting the respected reaction when Yoongi scoffs jokingly offended. “You’ve been together for like 9 years!” 

“I’m a respectful son in law!” He whines. Before his face morphs into a pout. “And she is a very scary woman.” 

That makes Jimin burst into a fit of giggles. Folding over himself, feeling the overhang of his belly fully press against his lap. Shirt riding up his back for him to quickly adjust it down when he stands back up right. 

“You are adorable.” “I don’t know why I keep letting you come here.”  Yoongi deadpans, eyes looking particularly anywhere that isn’t Jimin and his hands adjusting this shirt to fit over his love handles. Ouch.

“Because Hoseok likes me.” If Jimin were bolder he wouldn’t have said it in such a joking tone. But for the sake of keeping the peace. He’s now becoming acutely aware of how long it’s been since he and Yoongi hung out alone. “And because you’ve become incapable of cooking for two anymore.” That gets a smile out of him. 

“I did enough for us to eat ssambap for breakfast and lunch tomorrow…” He confesses. “Are you hungry?” 

“Always.” Jimin grins and follows the older to the kitchen, the smell is downright mouth-watering. But he is stopped as he tries to set the table. 

“No no, I’ll take stuff to the studio. I wanna show you what I’m working on.” The small smile on Yoongi’s face is enough to make Jimin’s stomach twist in excitement. No matter the inner conundrum Jimin has, he will always be excited for either of his hyungs’ music. Especially when he has that confident smile on his face. Yoongi looks amazing when he is confident. 

Is it excitement he feels? Or are those just the butterflies? 

“Got it.” He interrupts himself to nod and turn on his heel. It’s been at least a few months since he’s nestled into the studio. But it feels just as familiar as it did that last time when he handed in his final work… And also all that stuff happened during his final hand in. 

It does feel more cozy than he remembers, feeling himself get hot in the smaller room as he walks to his designated chair. What must’ve been an old one that either Hoseok or Yoongi used. At least judging by the screech it lets out as Jimin settles his weight into it. 

Jimin looks down at himself, it’s a tight fit. His sides nearing the edge of the chair, nearly grazing the armrests. Though he can feel his thighs sink a little into them, as well as overspill from the edge of the chair. Jimin says feel, because he can’t get a proper look at it. His belly, only cramped forward by the armrests, takes a comfortable seat on half of his lap. 

With pursed lips, Jimin makes himself bounce gently onto the chair. His belly slaps against his lap, and the rest of him jiggles in unison. But the chair only gives a few creaks in complaint. 

Okay, he’s good-

Yoongi clears his throat; the younger snaps his face in his direction to find him standing by the door. Did he just see Jimin testing if the chair could hold his weight? 

“I’ll–I’ll go get the uh… the food.” Jimin’s heart sinks to the pit of his stomach with the awkward look on the older’s face. Nearly fleeing the scene before he could catch Jimin behaving like the hog he turned himself into. 

Or well… The one they encouraged him into becoming.

A bitter taste takes over his tongue, if he finds it so uncomfortable, then maybe he shouldn’t have been so doting towards Jimin. Let him go completely crazy these past three months, just to show him rejection once he’s gone too far. Once Jimin started realizing he actually still cares what his hyungs think about him. A little bit more than he’s proud to admit; a lot more than he has any right to. 

The sweet smell of ssambap, the pork belly caramelized by its own fat, fills the room as Yoongi walks in with a tray with the big serving, some lettuce, rice, kimchi and two little bowls for them. That little smile is back on his face, like he is trying to brush off the awkwardness of barley a few minutes ago. The taste on Jimin’s mouth becomes unbearingly bitter. Maybe that’s why he is so eager to reach for the assortment of little dishes beginning to assemble his ssambap; while Yoongi begins to open the file he wanted to show him. 

His mind feels far away, deep into himself. It feels unfair that Jimin is being rejected like this when Yoongi and Hoseok were the ones to instigate it. But then again, part of him wonders if the oldest took notice of how Jimin and Hoseok’s relationship became more playful; flirtier. That would be a pretty justified anger. 

“Okay, this is for the opening of a short film they hired me to do.” Yoongi eyes briefly at Jimin with a smile; the younger already with the perfect, maybe a bit overstuffed, piece of lettuce in his hand. “Tell me what you think.” 

Even before he is turning to play the song, Jimin is pushing the ssambap into his mouth, brushing the hem of his stretched lips. Okay, really, overstuffed that one. But he can’t help but feel a little bit seductive as he is wrapping his plump lips around his chubby index finger that pushed the bite in and slipped it out. Already making a second one as he chews. The sucky thing about this dish is, there’s really no way for Jimin to eat ravenously as he has gotten used to. But Jimin can at least let himself relax; feel a bit more confident as the delicious crunchy and perfectly oily pork belly reaches his tongue. 

He has to hold back the moan that threatens to resonate in the back of his throat; it would definitely be disrespectful to interrupt the song with his gorging. Song that by the way, has this ethereal feel to it, gently creating the dreamy setting. It only feels fair that Jimin quickly scrambles to prepare a second bite, only to slowly lean back in the poor office chair. And not even the loud creak can ruin the religious experience that takes over his senses as he closes his eyes, letting himself get lost in the music, followed by the orgasmic balance of flavors that take over his mouth as he drops his jaw and manages to fit the humongous bite in. 

But… The sudden snap of the lumbar support of the chair, with the loud thud of Jimin falling to the ground. That’s enough to snap both of them out of the listening experience. Hitting the carpet floor with a thud and a loud. Not giving Jimin time to react before he is “oufing” against the floor staring at the ceiling. Taking the entire seat of the chair with him and leaving behind the headless wheeled legs. 

Yoongi comes into view from above, looking as stunned as Jimin feels. Maybe a little less out of breath. 

“A-are you okay?” The younger only now has time to feel the mortifying embarrassment, as Yoongi kneels at his side offering his hand. Eyebrows raised almost comically with worry. 

“Y…yeah-” He can only breathe out a reply, following the way Yoongi’s widened eyes graze along his fatteened body. The shock threw away any attempt at subtlety, letting Jimin see… the mortified expression.

Jimin’s heart tightens. Its disgust Yoongi is pathetically trying to mask. 

“I’m–I’m fine, I’m fine.” His chubby hand shoos Yoongi as he slowly starts sitting up. “Ow…” He pouts his lips. Yoongi’s hands rub down his own thighs nervously, not knowing what to do with himself. 

That’s okay, Jimin doesn’t know what to do with himself either. Though, as if to make matters worse, the front door opens. 

Obviously too flabbergasted to act on his own, still looking at Jimin’s body with panicked eyes, Yoongi screams “Office!” Not giving the youngest time to react before hurried steps are thumping quickly through the apartment. Hoseok probably noticed the slight panic in Yoongi’s tone. Both his and Jimin’s head snapping towards the door frame when Hoseok’s slim silhouette appears; in complete quiet as if they were getting caught in the middle of something they shouldn’t have. At least Jimin felt that way. 

“What’s wrong??” Hoseok speaks before he gets there. Both Yoongi and Jimin’s head snapping towards the door frame when Hoseok’s slim silhouette appears; in complete quiet as if they were getting caught in the middle of something they shouldn’t have. At least Jimin felt that way. Hoseok’s eyes bulged out at the crime scene before him, switching between Yoongi, dejectedly kneeling on the floor and, and Jimin laying with the armrests of the chair still squeezing into his sides. 

“Sorry about the chair.” He blurts, unmoving from his spot on the carpet. 

There’s a brief moment of quiet. Before Hoseok, folds over, bursting out laughing. High pitched and cutting through the uncomfortable silence Yoongi and Jimin were drowning in. Hand having to hold onto the door frame to hold himself from falling. 

“Oh Yoonie…” His voice is 3 octaves higher and breathier, through barely contained laughter. “I leave for an hour… And this is what you get into-!” He can’t finish his point, interrupted by another fit of laughter. 

“Shut up!” Yoongi’s voice also sounds higher pitched, for all the opposite reasons. Outraged, whiny and embarrassed. 

“Enjoying yourself?” A teasing tone clings to his voice, and Hoseok has that distinctive shit-eating grin. The mocking in his words does nothing to soothe Jimin’s self consciousness about the older. 

“The opposite" Jimin snorts humorlessly. “You should see how he is looking at me, hyung.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out that bitter, and the eyeing he gives Yoongi doesn’t help. But it’s something that has been eating him up, and Yoongi should seriously be more subtle about his distaste for Jimin’s weight gain. 

“What do you mean?” The oldest’s eyes are suddenly fully on him. Making Jimin feel extremely exposed. The idea of backing down and brushing it on flashing through his mind. 

“You’ve been weird for weeks now!” The whine slips out of his mouth before he can even consider that alternative. “Ever since I got fat!” His chubby pointy finger points at Yoongi’s gobsmacked expression. 

“W-what?” Even Hoseok looks stunned. 

“I’m sorry if my weight gain, that you two encouraged, is ruining the mood for you! And whatever’s happening between us!” Jimin can’t help but snort, he is tired of the confusion. “But you could try and be, I don’t know, nicer about it!” Jimin is suddenly very aware of the fact that he is screaming. Suddenly shrinking a bit into himself and looking anywhere else; he finds a nice spot on the floor. “A-and help me up.” 

The silence is palpable, at least for the two seconds before a hollering laughter makes the walls shake. Hoseok nearly folding over himself and having to grip the door frame to avoid falling down. It’s shocking enough that even Yoongi and JImin share a puzzled look before looking at Hoseok.

“You told me– You told me you were going to tell him! Yah!” He manages to finish a sentence but it’s attached to a string of giggles. Jimin was startled enough to ponder if Hoseok was talking to him, but Yoongi beats him to it. 

“I–I was going to!” His eyes darted between the youngest and his boyfriend. “The time just wasn’t right.” Jimin’s own eyes are bulging outwards between the couple, huffing as he sits up from where he was laying on the floor. 

“Tell me what?!” 

There’s another beat of silence. 

“Yoongichi here, has a weight gain kink.” The mocking smile doesn’t leave his face. Jimin feels his heart stammer erratically. “And I was dumb enough to think he would’ve told you by now… With how much weight you put on and all.” 

He is at a loss of words, though Yoongi speaks before he can even begin to formulate words. “You’re making me sound like a creep! It’s not like that!” He speaks through a pout, looking at Jimin with desperation. Who can’t offer any comforting words back, jaw hanging limp in complete shock. 

“We— I didn’t plan on making you gain any weight.” He explains exasperated, suddenly not looking at anyone’s eyes. “You were just so spent with work and–and it just was my way of looking after you!” 

Jimin never would’ve considered… 

“I obviously uhm… noticed the gain. But I didn’t want to freak you out.” Yoongi does dare to look at Jimin in the eyes then, genuine and a little scared. “I may have taken it too far with my acting. And caused the opposite effect I wanted. I’m sorry.” His face scrunches up into a flinch the more he goes on, as if preparing for another one of Jimin’s explosive reactions. 

“I…” The youngest starts to speak, mainly because he can feel it’s his que to respond. But without the slightest clue what he should say. Seeing from the corner of his eye Hoseok stepped closer to where the pair was sitting on the floor. “You like it?” His eyes darted between the two of them, not able to help the hopeful tone of his voice; impossible to hide it after these old feelings resurfaced with full force. 

“I don’t have a kink for it, personally.” Hoseok’s hand finds Yoongi’s shoulder. “But I think you look beautiful, Jiminie.” The oldest is nodding eagerly. 

“I don’t like you just because of the weight either.” His face is serious but his nodding is desperate, as if still scared of giving the Jimin the wrong idea, whose heart is stammering out of his ribs. 

“I like the weight.” He sounds more sure than he has all night. Nodding softly as his eyes dart between the two. “I like getting to hang out with you again, and getting taken care of by you.” Once he starts he doesn’t think he can stop. “And I like that you two don’t look at me like I’m a kid anymore, and finally feeling like I have a chance.” He smiles a bit, Jimin knows he is risking it all, but he can’t bring himself to care when it feels so good to let go of all these emotions.

Hoseok kneels behind his boyfriend, at eye level with Yoongi. He is biting his lip with an endeared smile on his face. “Well… we have all changed since then.” 

“You’re not a tween anymore.” Yoongi jokes with a shit-eating smile that shows at least some ease on his part. 

“You are 2 years older than me.” The look on the oldest face eases him enough to retort back. “Only one year younger than Hobi hyung. You two just behave like senior citizens.” Hoseok breaks into giggles and Jimin feels quite accomplished about that. 

“It feels more drastic in highschool! You know that!” His melodic laughter fills the room. Jimin feels his own shoulders slump in proper relief. And he catches the older looking at Hoseok with lovesick eyes as his laughter calms down. “Babe… offer him dessert.” He whispers to Yoongi with an amused smile. 

“Oh!” He smiles a little embarrassed before turning his face back to Jimin. “Min-ah, do you think you have any more roo-” 

“Yes.” Jimin answers without giving Yoongi time to finish. “Help me up.”

 gif credits!1st gif : gainerbf on tumblr, October 3rd 2023

2nd-4th gif : overfedbutterball on tumblr, September 11th 2023

5th photo: fatbellygirl-piggy on tumblr, November 16th 2023

#BTS #bts feederism #namkook #taejin #sopemin #chubby jugnkook #fat jungkook #chubby taehyung #fat taehyung #chubby seven #fat jimin #stress eating #stuffing

[charlie-pippin-faraday]

before we get back to your regularly scheduled hoa programming, i would like to try to sell you guys on the crack i’ve been hooked on for the past few days and what i just had a ginormous spam about: drukkari, which would be druig and makkari from the eternals. please hear me out, because i’m currently obsessed with them and they make me yell. and if you don’t know about them i want to try to get you to fall in love with them. so, presenting, the selling points:

(obviously contains eternals spoilers but like it’s been long enough)

when i started seeing gifs of them on my dash before i saw the movie, i legitimately thought they were just straightup married

they are immortal, and they have been in love for literally 7000 years

druig is a BITCH he’s the fuckin worst he’s SO moody he’s SO grumpy (for mostly good reason) he’s mischievous he’s a prick everyone hates him and he hates everyone (in the family way) and he doesn’t have a single nice thing to say about anyone. UNLESS your name is makkari. in that case he is 😍😍😍😍

this is the EPITOME of both the best friends to lovers trope AND the grumpy/sunshine trope. like to a T. what more could you want?

also the epitome of the “i hate everyone but you” trope

SO much teasing and SO playful and SO flirty

it’s honestly astonishing how he’s got bitchface/angry face when talking to literally anybody except for her, but when he’s with her he’s just got the softest, dopiest look on his face, and the biggest smile. she also has the biggest smile

strong “i’m a simp for my wife” vibes which i’m obviously a sucker for

she’s deaf and to my recollection he’s the only one who signs with her consistently throughout the movie. even though he can literally read minds and hear thoughts and i think maybe communicate telepathically but he does it anyway and he’s the only one

at one point he starts flirting with her like mad in front of everyone which prompts two of the characters to pull their own version of the “is this allowed???” vine

after not seeing her for i think a couple hundred years, he ditches his everyday attire of potato sack-looking linen clothes he’d been wearing for a sexy leather jacket and sunglasses when they all go and meet up with her. mans was dressed to impress the gf

there’s a point where they all think he got murdered and she goes absolutely fucking FERAL and goes apeshit on the dude that thought he killed him; she literally drags this guy’s face against the side of a volcano at lightspeed, and she rapid fire beats the shit out of him over and over and over. hell hath no fury like a woman scorned

you romantic bitches like the mr darcy dramatically walking out of the morning mist scene from pride and prejudice right?? well this movie has an exact recreation of that scene and i am NOT exaggerating

this dramatic hoe makes his dramatic reappearance after they all thought he was dead, walking down the beach with yet another smile on his face when he sees her (it’s just for her), and she runs right to him and embraces him like some kind of romcom, and then they give me the best most tender forehead touch i’ve ever seen in my entire life [WHICH WAS APPARENTLY IMPROVISED BTW BARRY YOU MADLAD]

she is understandably a little shook because she thought he DIED and in the softest voice he reassures her “it’s okay. it’s okay.” and when i say soft i mean SO soft that the closed captions don’t even pick it up

and the kicker. this mans. has the audacity to drop some of the most romantic shit i’ve heard in my LIFE. early on in the movie he greets her with “My beautiful Makkari.” and then later, he tops it and follows it up with “My beautiful, beautiful Makkari.” All while looking at her like she’s the sun the moon and the stars. SIR!! who gave you the RIGHT!!!!! how can i not be obsessed with romantic shit like that???

oh and arguably the best part is that this couple was not meant to be in the movie at ALL lmao. it wasn’t in the original script. but the actors (lauren ridloff and barry keoghan) had such WIDLY good chemistry that my hero chloé zhao (director) was like “we MUST make this into a romance and i WILL fit this into this movie somehow.” and it outshined everything else thank you chloé

thus concludes my case and all the reasons they’re currently destroying me. and i think you should get obsessed with them too my lovely followers, i think they’re neat and i think you’d think so too

#cannot BELIEVE with them #will straightup NEVER get over 'my beautiful beautiful makkari' #drukkari

[baby-bearie]

romeo, juliet, and evites to funerals

(NOT MY GIF)

jj maybank x reader

taglist: @sunflowermotel @howdyherron @drew-starkey @maraseavey @outerbanqs @tinylatina01 @yelyahryan @loveylangdon @obxwriterfan @jjmaebank @avashroom @rewindlr @katie-avery @raekenliar @ceruleanjj @adoreyoudrews @dolanfivsosxox @heyhargrove @lashtonandmalumsbaby @beautyandthebleh @pancahke @outrbank @kiarasflowr @corleigh @poguemacking @kristineee-obx @shawnssongs @thorsangel @daniel9seavey9 @hopefultrashforanythingreally @pixelated-pogues @dpaccione @thatshiscigar @hesscott @damonsalvawhore27 @fanficscuziranout @trustfundparker @teamnick @becca-harlow @trashmouthpogues @rudys-pankow @ilovejjmaybank @tomzfrog

a/n: uh oh. back again. thank you @jjmaebank for the beta read i love u. i did switch that one tangled reference i made.

JJ hates when you’re mad at him. You won’t text him, you won’t answer your phone, if you actually see him you’d never acknowledge him, and kisses? Forget about it. You’re not exactly a lot of fun when you’re mad at JJ.

You’re currently mad at JJ.

He figured that out after about the 3rd call you failed to return, and now he’s blowing up your phone. Nearly 50 unread texts, 27 missed calls and 13 voicemails, all in a span of 2 hours.

He’s persistent, he really is. Annoyingly so. Whenever JJ upsets you, his go to plan is to just irritate you into forgiveness. He thinks you can’t ignore him forever. You’re determined to prove him wrong. It’s been 3 days, and you’re proud of yourself. This is the longest you’ve held out against his torrent of digital apologies. You want to go longer.

It didn’t take JJ long to realize what you were mad about. For at least the fourth time this month, JJ had missed your date. You had planned a day on the mainland at a local fair, but you spent last Friday waiting as the ferry came and went.

If he had just canceled, you wouldn’t be mad. But he didn’t cancel, he just texted you every half hour, just when you were ready to give it up and leave, that he was coming and to hold on. And then around 5, a good 3 hours after he said he would come, he showed up.

And then he made fun of your outfit.

“Dude, what the hell are you wearing?” He even laughed.

So you left.

It is now Monday morning, and your phone has not stopped ringing for the past 8 hours. How the hell did he manage to keep going, nonstop, for 8 hours?

You can’t deny that you miss him. Going without JJ’s touchiness is affecting you too. Last night you had to cuddle a pillow.

You’re fixing your bed when the pebbles start hitting your window.

One, two, three, four. A pause. And then at least 30 pebbles all hit the window at the same time. You huff in annoyance, rolling off your bed to unlatch the window and shove it open.

“Hi, baby.” JJ is standing on your lawn, sheepishly smiling at you. His hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck.

You quirk an eyebrow at him, unamused.

“Oh, c’mon, Y/n! You can’t still be mad at me.” “Oh, I very much can! Or could you not tell from the numerous times I called you back?” You scoff.

JJ laughs, pushing his hands out at you, as if he’s reaching for you. “See, you’re talking to me already.” “Go away, JJ!” You grit your teeth.

“No.” “Go. Away.” “I don’t want to! Not until you forgive me!” “If you stay here another second, I’m literally going to ignore you for the rest of your life. We’ll get married and have kids and I still won’t talk to you.”

JJ snorts. “That would be bad for our family.”

“I will communicate with you through our children.” “Okay, well you’re pretty, like, vocal, if you know what I mean- “JJ, you disgust me.” “so I don’t know how you plan on me puttin’ a baby in you if you won’t talk to me. Communication is key, Y/n.”

“Okay, first of all, shut the fuck up. Second of all, if you don’t get off this street in the next ten seconds, I will call John B and I will make him drag you off.” You deadpan.

“That wouldn’t even work, John B would take my side.” “I’m his favorite!” You insist.

“Okay, I’m done talking to you, goodbye forever,” You begin to close the window, and JJ shouts. “Wait, wait, Y/n, wait, I swear I will start yelling.” “Goodbye, JJ.” You shut the window and JJ sighs dramatically.

He smirks up at you through the window before he opens his mouth.

“I am hopelessly in love with Y/n Y/l/n, and I’m going to scream about it now.” He whoops. Your neighbor sticks his head out his door. JJ turns and waves at him. “She’s up there!” He shouts, pointing at your window.

You yank the curtains in front of your window and flop back on the bed.

“Y/n, oh, Y/n, parting is something something? Oh, sweet sorrow! Something, something, I never read Romeo and Juliet last year, true beauty?” He screams.

You pull another pillow on top of your head, trying to muffle JJ’s yodeling outside your window. It barely works. You can make out more half-assed Romeo and Juliet references, but you know for a fact the only version of that play he knows is the gnome one.

Eventually, he leaves. You don’t dare actually check to see if he’s gone, scared that in true JJ fashion, he’s just baiting you. But after a good 30 minutes of quiet, you know JJ’s not patient enough for this. He’s gone.

He’s not done though.

He continues to overheat your phone with calls and texts. At one point he sends you an evite to his funeral. “Rip: jj maybank. Cause of death: lack of y/n.” The invitation reads.

At least he’s getting creative.

You’re almost thankful when the clear weather turns into a thunderstorm, knocking out your power. With no wifi, there’s no JJ.

Or so you were hoping.

You’re curled up with a cup of coffee and a family sized bag of chips in front of the TV, barely paying attention to the movie playing when he starts knocking on the door.

You’re not sure who would be at your door in the middle of a storm this bad. Obviously, one boy, but even he’s not dumb enough to come all the way here in weather this bad.

Except he is dumb enough.

You swing the door open to reveal a soaked JJ, squinting in the rain and holding up a bouquet of drooping carnations. He grins at you goofily.

���JJ, you dumbass, what the hell? Get in here!” You grab his wet arm and drag him inside. Even better, he came here in the rain, in a sleeveless shirt.

“Did you get my evite? Because I’m fucking freezing. I think this is how I go.” He’s dripping all over the floor.

You throw a glare over your shoulder as you retreat to find a towel.

Once you’ve wrapped it around him and forced him into a chair, you finally get to scream at him.

“You’re- You’re infuriating, you know that?” You cry out. “You drive me insane! What am I supposed to do if you get sick? Or worse!”

“Then you could’ve sent out those evites.” He smiles hesitantly.

“I’m being serious!”

JJ gives you another toothy smile and holds out the wimpy flowers. You take them from him and immediately hit him with them, spraying water droplets across his face.

“Ow. Okay, I deserved that.” JJ holds his hands up in defense and you hit him with them again.

“Maybe I shouldn’t buy you flowers anymore!” “You’re such an asshole!”

“I’m the asshole?” JJ stands now. “Yes, you’re the asshole.” “I’m the one getting beaten up with flowers!”

“What, did you think you could just show up here with stupid flowers and your stupid face and all would be forgotten?” “Well, no, okay, kind of?” JJ doesn’t know what to say to make you happy.

“That’s not how this works. You can’t just pull some big gesture and fix everything.” “Okay, you’re right. Y/n, I’m sorry.” He grabs your shoulders to look you dead in the eyes.

“You’re sorry?” “I’m sorry.” He shakes you a little.

“You’re sorry for what?”

JJ rolls his eyes, but finishes. “I’m sorry for standing you up and then being harsh about your fashion choices. I did not mean to hurt your feelings. It will never happen again.” JJ sounds like he’s reciting from memory.

“It’s going to happen again, you loofah.” “Loofah? I feel like that’s a new one.” “But you have to apologize, JJ.”

“I tried!” JJ protests, but you cut him off.

“And not over the phone.” You give him a look.

“Okay.” His hands travel to your hips. “Next time, I’ll say I’m sorry. Not over the phone. Can I please just kiss you now?”

“Is that all you came here for?” You laugh. “Pretty much, yeah.”

JJ leans down to kiss you, and you can feel him smile against you.

You pull away, eyes still closed. “I swear, stand me up one more time and I will dump you for- “Shut up.” JJ kisses you again but you lean back. “For good.” You finish and kiss him again.

“But then how would we,” He pecks your lips between words, “have that family you were talking about.”

You tug your head back completely. “I will leave you and my imaginary family.”

JJ shakes his head at you before he looks at the tv.

“What are you even watching?” “Romeo and Juliet.”

“Wait, isn’t he supposed to be a lot shorter than that?”

#outer banks imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagines #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj imagines #jj outer banks #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fic #obx imagine #obx imagines #outer banks fluff #outer banks angst #john b routledge #rudy pankow

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 18, second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Hey OP where’s the funny header gif for this post? Sorry, it was murdered by an angst demon and the framing of these shots.

My Found Family Came to Find Me

Continuing our flashback from last time, we see Baby Wei Ying up a tree, refusing to come down because he's afraid there are dogs. Eventually he falls out of the tree, like a dumbass a child, and Yanli tries but fails to catch him. 

Unlike his grownup counterpart, Baby Wei Ying doesn't pretend he's unhurt when he is hurt. I'd like to put the change at Yu Ziyuan's door, but actually he admits to being hurt during his Gusu summer - he mimics Lan Zhan's stoicism when they're getting beaten, but it doesn't come naturally to him, and he whines a lot afterwards. 

By the time of the Animatronic Dog incident, however, he's laughing off obvious injuries that have secret trauma behind them. By the time he comes back, coreless, from the burial mounds, he won't confide in anyone about his hurts any more, except possibly Wen Qing.

Yanli carries Wei Ying, in a sequence that will be echoed much later in his life when Lan Zhan carries him (gifset here). While they head back, she tells him that Jiang Cheng has a bad temper and to ignore whatever mean things he says. This will also be echoed in the future, when Wei Wuxian says it to Lan Zhan after their argument with Jiang Cheng in the shrine.

Yanli also explains that Jiang Cheng loved his dogs and that he's been very sad since Jiang Fengmian sent them away, demonstrating once again that Jiang Fengmian is a terrible father. Yanli says that Jiang Cheng will be happy to have a friend with him, though. This kind of makes Wei Wuxian's role in Jiang Cheng's life "replacement dog."

Jiang Cheng, after getting over this particular snit, got worried about Wei Wuxian and woke up Yanli to find him, and then went wandering around in the dark like a dumbass a child, and is banged up and crying when the other two find him. Yanli encourages him to apologize to Wei Wuxian and he does, which will not happen again until the very end of the show.  

They all smile and laugh together, as Wei Ying looks to Yanli to guide him through the insanity that his life has suddenly become. 

(more behind the cut!)

They head back to Lotus Pier in a sweet montage of walking and smiling together, with Jiang Cheng carrying the world's most beautiful candle holder with the world's most wind-resistant candle in it, to light their way back. Back in the present day for a brief moment, Jiang Cheng pretends to sleep and listens to his sister insisting that the three of them should always stay together, while a single tear rolls down the side of his face.

Soup is Love, Chapter 1 of 1000

Then we head to the past again. In Jiang Cheng & Wei Ying's now-shared room, Wei Ying sits on the bed trying to figure out how to deal with his grumpy new roommate.

Wei Ying is unsure what to do when confronted with pajama game this strong. Tiny Jiang Cheng is already a fashion king. 

Then he tells Jiang Cheng he's not going to narc him out to the clan leader, since it was his own fault that he hurt his leg. This is all Jiang Cheng needs to hear to decide Wei Ying is all right, and he says that he will help Wei Ying chase away dogs in the future.  In fact, Wei Wuxian will protect Jiang Cheng from punishment basically forever, while Jiang Cheng will continue to threaten Wei Wuxian with dogs...forever.

They shake hands on their new understanding and then jump up and down laughing, Wei Ying's leg being all better now, apparently.  When Yanli arrives (carrying a tray of...can you guess? I'll let you guess), they stop jumping. Wei Ying dives in to give Jiang Cheng a little tickle/embrace in an adorable moment that would have me saying "oh, my ovaries!" if I hadn't surgically sent my ovaries to hell a few years ago.

Yanli introduces Wei Ying to the emotional and gustatorial miracle that is her lotus and ribs soup. He hesitates a long time before tucking in because he's so unused to being fed.

Consent? I Don’t Even Know Her

The flashback wraps up with Yanli conked out on the table from the drugs in the incense burner, while Wei Wuxian, who is somehow unaffected despite sitting almost as close to the smoke as she was, checks on her. Jiang Cheng and his Uggs period-appropriate sock thingies get out of bed to come stand with Wei Wuxian, and have feelings about sending Yanli away after she JUST said she doesn't want to be parted from them.

Wei Wuxian: If she didn't want us to do this, she shouldn't have signed that blanket consent-to-medical-treatment form.   Jiang Cheng: Wen Qing made me sign one of those plus a durable power of attorney, is that bad?

This episode is all about people overriding each others' agency and making massively important decisions without the consent of the people who will be affected. But in a feudal context, it's not a violation, no matter how it feels to the person being controlled. In feudal life, your body belongs to your lord -- your sect leader, in the world of CQL. Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng's choices are overridden by their clan leader's final command to Wei Wuxian.  Wei Wuxian's core is arguably Jiang Fengmian's property--Wei Wuxian certainly sees it that way, just as his hand was Yu Ziyuan's to take if she wished.  

The brothers tenderly tuck Yanli into bed in the rolly cart and hand her off to Song Lan. They talk about how important it is to get her to Lanling and that she's probably going to be mad, as they thank Song Lan for helping them. 

Yanli listens while she sleeps and, in what is becoming a trademark Jiang move, lets a single tear roll down the side of her face. Jiang Cheng points out that Yanli never gets mad at Wei Wuxian and Wei Wuxian is like, true dat.

How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?

Song Lan is always so emotional about every damn thing, I love him. Here he's like OH GOD NO DON'T FORMALLY THANK ME! STOP!!!

Then he starts to ask Wei Wuxian to pass a message to Song Xingchen for him, but then decides not to say anything, making it super obvious that they fought and aren't together. 

Wei Wuxian reacts to this with confusion and distress, probably because he doesn't want to imagine ever having a breakup with his own soulmate. Which he soon will be having.  But possibly he's just upset that his OTP broke up.

After Song Lan takes off, Jiang Cheng gives Wen Qing a rude & perfunctory thank-you bow, turning away before she can return it. Wei Wuxian tells her not to take it to heart - basically everyone who deals with Jiang Cheng gets a version of the "ignore what he says" speech. She says she understands and that in his place she would have behaved worse, which is so totally not true.  

Then she asks Wei Wuxian if he's sure about the core transfer (not in so many words, because the script is being kind of being vague about it, without actually hiding what's happening). His reply pretty much encapsulates the whole Wei Wuxian experience.

Then he and Jiang Cheng walk off, with Jiang Cheng giving us a rear view that had me googling Wang Zhuocheng's fashion shoots to determine if that wagon he's draggin’ is really as delightful as this belt makes it look. Alas, there is not a wealth of photographic evidence for this research, as compared to, for example, photos of Xiao Zhan's outstanding ass.

Wen Qing and Wen Ning see them off, with Wen Qing wishing they valued their lives more. Although, what she and Wen Ning are doing is massive treason, so their lives will be pretty much forfeit if they're caught, so...

The Sunshot Campaign of Like 60 Dudes

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng walk up the mountain for the whole beginning of the Sunshot campaign, which...okay. Maybe it's like Dunkirk or The Witcher where they intercut stuff that is happening in different timeframes, which is one of my least favorite new film style thingies.

You know, for a guy Wei Wuxian constantly calls "peacock," Jin Ziyuan really doesn't wear a lot of adornment; just some subtle metalwork on his belt with no dangly bits at all, and a single reasonably-sized hair crown. Compared to the extremely fancy Lan Wangji he's almost plain. We already know that Wei Wuxian is a massive hypocrite when it comes to his idea of a perfect boy, however.

So, this is the Lanling Jin army, which consists of literally 60 guys, including the ones on the stairs and Jin Zixuan and Douchebag Dad. How are they going to fight a war with this tiny group? Why do they have such a big plaza? Hasn't anybody on this production learned CGI cloning?

That’s better.

Nie Mingjue and his best bitch Baxia make quick work of the 4 Wen guys who were assigned to hold the Unclean Realm. 

Hello, Daddy Da-Ge!

Squeeee, it's Lan Wangji! He's taking back Cloud Recesses! Ooooohhh we've missed you Lan Wangji.

Look guys he's here! Look how beautiful he is. He's looking at the gate of cloud recesses and thinking thoughts that Lan Xichen or Wei Wuxian could probably see in his bewitching eyes if they were here to see him, which they aren't. But at least he is here!

....and now he's gone again. *cries*

Hares On The Mountains

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian continue roaming prettily around this pretty mountainside. The locations in this show are such eye candy. 

Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains  Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains  If I was a young lass I’d soon go a hunting

Jiang Cheng starts to have doubts about the whole Baoshan Sanren thing. Wei Wuxian's reply pretty much encapsulates the whole Wei Wuxian experience.  

Then we have just the tenderest blindfolding scene, (more gifs here), which is fodder for your ChengXian dreams, if you have those.

Here's a good place for a sidebar about what is and isn't incest. Whee! In the CDrama context, relationships tend to be more clearly defined than in western media. The mechanism of confession & acceptance means that people either are or are not in a romantic relationship, with few grey areas. So a character can literally say "we grew up as brother and sister, but now we are dating" and when someone looks startled they just say "there's no blood relation" and everyone is like "cool cool" and that's the new definition of the relationship.

For a strong example of this, the extremely wonderful Go Ahead is about a contemporary family in which a girl and two boys, who are not blood relatives, are all raised together, and call each other brother and sister. When they become adults, they and everyone around them expect the girl (now a woman) to marry one of the two men who have been her brothers, while whichever one she doesn't choose will carry on as her sibling. It's treated as the most natural, logical thing in the world; the only question is whether she wants to make that transition, and with whom.

Looked at through this lens, Wei Wuxian's relationships with his adoptive siblings have just as much potential to turn into romances as his relationships with his friends do, and there's nothing creepy about it. As such you can expect my meta to always get into ChengXian moments without treating it as a wrong or forbidden love. Hopeless, of course, because Jiang Cheng is such a prick the power of WangXian is stronger, but that's a different matter.

What is wrong is wearing this fantastic hat & veil combination when the most fashionable person on the mountain is blindfolded and can't see it.

In the course of this blindfolded encounter with Wen Qing, Jiang Cheng gets to kneel before a powerful woman, be led along by a length of silk that's placed in his hand, and then knocked the fuck out and operated on. He'll wake up in a hotel room in a tub full of ice with "we took your kidney" written on the mirror in lipstick, and he'll love every minute of it.  

Soundtrack: 1. Still Fighting it, by Ben Folds 2. Hares on the Mountain, by Steeleye Span

Writing Prompt: The NEXT time somebody blindfolds Jiang Cheng

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #chengxian #cql #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs

[kaywinchester]

Shopping Spree

anon request: Hiya Kay! Hope all is with you you and your readers during this time of self isolation.Got a cutesy, and yes, very funny idea for u in which S & D spend time @ the mall w/ their sis, set specifically inside a lingerie store( ex. Victoria Secret). Needless to say, embarrassment(@sis's expanse) & hilarity ensue in which D models bras, offer non helpful suggestions to sis, and just acts like a real dork, while S appears MAJORLY uncomfortable/embarrassed by the whole thing. Can be as silly as u want

Word Count: 1,200

A/N: I honestly did not know what to call this fic lol. But two fics being posted within a week.....!! Finishing up some old requests so once I'm done with those I will open requests again! Also thought this gif was perfect XD

It had been a few days since any of you had found any recent hunting leads, and you desperately needed to get out of the bunker for a while. You know your brothers did too, but you've been around them all week and decided to take yourself on a little shopping trip. It wasn't that often that you got to spoil yourself with new clothes, you thought it would be a nice outing, until Dean had to be nosy.

“Hey, you wanna watch this movie with Sammy and I? Pretty sure this is the uncut version too.” Dean snarked as he held up the dvd case.

“Sounds fun, but I’m actually gonna go on a little shopping trip.” You said as you packed your wallet into your bag. 

“Oh, uh we can tag along with you...” Dean suggested.

“That’s okay, I kind of just need to get out for a while.” You declined politely.

“That makes 3 of us. We’ve all been cooped up in here when were not out hunting. Let’s make it a trip!” Dean cheered.

“Uh, actually-”

“Hey Sammy!” Dean cut you off as he went to fetch Sam.

“Ugh, you've got to be kidding me.” You muttered as you grabbed your stuff.

You three drove to the mall that was a little far, but it had a variety of stores to shop from so you didn't mind. You just didn't think you would have your older brothers tagging along with you. And from your past experience, Sam and Dean hated going shopping, unless it was something in their interest. So you guessed they must've been pretty desperate to get out of the house. But, you weren't gonna let that stop you from enjoying your shopping trip.

You started with a few of your favorite clothing stores, browsing in a few of then you finally found the one that carried stuff more your style. Picking out a couple of shirts and jeans, you turned to your brothers that had been following you around as they ate their mall pretzels. 

“I’m gonna try these on, why don't you guys go look for some things that you like?” You suggested, trying to get them out of your hair for a while.

“Fine. Meet us back by the food court in an hour.” Dean finally agreed.

You tried on a few tops, flannels, and some jeans. Then realizing you could really use some new bras. You wanted a few that you could wear while you weren't hunting, something other than sports bras.

After purchasing the few outfits, you made your way over to the food court. Sam and Dean were sitting on one of the couches with drinks in their hand.

“Did you guys get more food?” You asked, kind of hoping they got something for you.

“Uh, no. Just these.” Dean motioned to his drink cup.

“Sure.... look I wanted to stop by one more store so I’ll be back here in about 30 minutes.” 

“No, c’mon we’ve been sitting here for 30 minutes.” Dean whined.

“Did you guys even buy anything?” You motioned to the bag.

“Yeah, this.” Sam handed you the bag. You pulled out a package out of the Spencers gifts bag and looked it over to see that Dean had bought a fake pile of vomit for pranks.

“Why did you show her?” Dean said with disappointment. 

“Because it’s stupid and she probably wouldn't fall for it anyway.” Sam sighed.

“Whatever, I’ll be back in a bit.” You scoffed.

“Don’t worry, we’re coming with you.” Dean said as he hoisted himself up from the couch.

You knew you weren’t gonna convince your giant twelve year old brothers to sit still any longer so you just kept walking to the underwear store that you wanted to go to. 

“Uh, Dean let’s just wait out here, I don't think she’ll be too long.” Sam huffed as he saw that you went into the Victoria’s Secret.

“Dude, what are you embarrassed? It’s just a store.” Dean nudged Sam as he walked in.

Sam sighed and just followed Dean, not wanting to awkwardly wait outside the store by himself. 

You walked through the aisles and looked at the mannequins and saw a few lace bras that you thought looked comfortable. Grabbing a few, you turned around and saw to your surprise that your brothers had followed you in there.

“Sheesh, how many bras does a girl need?” Dean joked around looking around.

“However many she wants.” You said, not letting your awkward older brothers embarrass you. “I’m gonna go try a few things on.” You motioned to the fitting rooms.

Dean continued to walk around with a very uncomfortable Sam following closely behind. He started looking through the drawers and found a bra with spikes on it, Dean grabbed it and put it around his chest.

“Like what you see, Sammy?” Dean joked.

“Can you put that down.” Sam whispered as he saw a few stares.

“Guess not.” Dean laughed. Once you came out of the fitting room you looked around for a while. Dean showed you his cool find.

“You should get this one, Y/N.” Dean suggested sarcastically.

“Looks like something you'd find at hot topic.” You laughed. Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean started trying on more stuff that was within reach. “Hey I didn't know they sold more stuff besides underwear here.” He said as he put on a pair of girly sunglasses.

“I can't take you anymore.” Sam told Dean as he walked out swiftly.

“What’s up with him?” You asked.

“Who knows. Probably crabby that I dragged him in here. Anyway, you almost done? I kinda wanna get back.” Dean looked at his watch.

“Yeah, and so much for getting you two out of the house.” You laughed as you turned to go wait in line.

....................

You walked out of the store with your bags in your hands. “You ready to go?”

“Yes.” Sam said abruptly.

“Aw, do you feel all awkward?” You teased him.

“No, just wanna get back.” Sam lied. You and Dean looked at each other and silently laughed to one another.

Who knew shopping with your brothers would take so much energy, and embarrassment on Sam’s end.

You drove home since it was your idea to go out. Dean rarely let you drive baby, but he was in a good mood and made an exception. Dean adjusted his long limbs in the back seat, trying to get comfortable.

“So, with what you just bought, who are you planning to wear all that for.....” Dean spoke up.

“Myself actually, if you should be so nosy.” Rolling your eyes at Dean’s overprotective ways.

“It better be for yourself....” Dean trailed off with sarcasm.

“Shut up, Dean. They're just clothes. Can’t a girl feel good for once, it’s not that often I go shopping.” You retorted.

“Whatever you say.” Dean said.

You let out a sigh as you kept your eyes on the road. You hoped to Chuck that you could get out by yourself sooner or later. These brothers of yours could be too much at times, but damn you were grateful for them either way. No matter how dorky they were....

Requests Are Closed

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[welllpthisishappening]

Welllp This is...Books. Lots and Lots of Books

That gif is something of a lie. Some of these books were not great. But! Some of them were very good! And some of them were marketed weird — seriously, what does qualify as YA — and some of them I read in, like, six hours and some of them I raged about for six hours after I finished them.

Or: 2020!Laura reverted to 2004!Laura and read just a lot of books and then her husband got her a Kindle and she read even more books and has thoughts on most of those books that she is now going to share with the internet while also making absurd category names. Note that these are only books I read for the first time this year. So, the list is missing some of the stuff I used as coping devices. ALSO SOME SPOILERS AHEAD, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

FAVORITE BOOKS THAT MADE A SHITTY YEAR SLIGHTLY BETTER AND ALSO LIKELY MADE ME SWOON A BIT

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

When nineteen-year-old huntress Feyre kills a wolf in the woods, a terrifying creature arrives to demand retribution. Dragged to a treacherous magical land she knows about only from legends, Feyre discovers that her captor is not truly a beast, but one of the lethal, immortal faeries who once ruled her world.

At least, he's not a beast all the time.

As she adapts to her new home, her feelings for the faerie, Tamlin, transform from icy hostility into a fiery passion that burns through every lie she's been told about the beautiful, dangerous world of the Fae. But something is not right in the faerie lands. An ancient, wicked shadow is growing, and Feyre must find a way to stop it, or doom Tamlin-and his world-forever.

— I kid you not, I had to do a lap around the apartment after reading the second book in this series. Why didn’t I read this before? Why isn’t there more fic? Why I am constantly falling for dark-haired sad dudes in love with their wives??? I cannot rec this series enough. It’s got world building and found families, and that dark-haired sad dude, and magic and lore and banter, and it’s so good and I don’t understand why it was marketed as YA. The literary world is weird, guys.

Percy Jackson and the Olympians (and the Heroes of Olympus) by Rick Riordan

Accompany the son of the sea god Poseidon and his other demigod friends as they go on a series of quests that will have them facing monsters, gods, and conniving figures from Greek mythology. Do they have what it takes to save the Olympians from an ancient enemy?

— Straight up, how did you guys cope with Percy and Annabeth when you were kids reading this? I would have been OBSESSED. Quarantine felt like the perfect time to finally read all of these books, and I know it’s sacrilegious to like Heroes of Olympus, but I might have liked parts of that series more? Just because it felt like they were older and I was super into Percabeth being properly in love. Also, now I get why everyone was so upset about the movies. Fair.

The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer

Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth's fate hinges on one girl. . . .Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She's a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister's illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai's, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world's future.

— Yet another YA series that I will admit to loving this year. Started off a little slow, but once the world building really got underway —and it gets underway — I was hooked. If I had read this at an age-appropriate time I would have been super in love Captain Carswell Thorne. I was still kind of in love with Captan Carswell Thorne. So it should come as no surprise that Cress was my favorite of the series, but I enjoyed the whole thing, really.

Serpent & Dove by Shelby Mahurin

Two years ago, Louise le Blanc fled her coven and took shelter in the city of Cesarine, forsaking all magic and living off whatever she could steal. There, witches like Lou are hunted. They are feared. And they are burned.As a huntsman of the Church, Reid Diggory has lived his life by one principle: Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. But when Lou pulls a wicked stunt, the two are forced into an impossible situation—marriage.Lou, unable to ignore her growing feelings, yet powerless to change what she is, must make a choice. And love makes fools of us all.

— YO. Y O. THIS WAS SO GOOD. World building! Magic! Marriage of convenience! Well-written enemies to lovers! As soon as I finished this, I bought the sequel. And then got upset the third book in the series isn’t out yet! That’s a frustrating theme for me this year.

The Roommate by Rosie Danan

The Wheatons are infamous among the east coast elite for their lack of impulse control, except for their daughter Clara. She's the consummate socialite: over-achieving, well-mannered, predictable. But every Wheaton has their weakness. When Clara's childhood crush invites her to move cross-country, the offer is too much to resist. Unfortunately, it's also too good to be true.

After a bait-and-switch, Clara finds herself sharing a lease with a charming stranger. Josh might be a bit too perceptive—not to mention handsome—for comfort, but there's a good chance he and Clara could have survived sharing a summer sublet if she hadn't looked him up on the Internet...

Once she learns how Josh has made a name for himself, Clara realizes living with him might make her the Wheaton's most scandalous story yet. His professional prowess inspires her to take tackling the stigma against female desire into her own hands. They may not agree on much, but Josh and Clara both believe women deserve better sex. What they decide to do about it will change both of their lives, and if they're lucky, they'll help everyone else get lucky too.

— I LOVED IT. L O V E D. As I told Justin “there was more porn than I was expecting,” in that porn and the adult film industry was a legitimate plot point and not just a part of Josh’s character, but it was incredibly well written and interesting and I cared about the plot. Sometimes I also wanted to shake Clara, but that was kind of the point.

The Marriage Game by Sara Desai

After her life falls apart, recruitment consultant Layla Patel returns home to her family in San Francisco. But in the eyes of her father, who runs a Michelin starred restaurant, she can do no wrong. He would do anything to see her smile again. With the best intentions in mind, he offers her the office upstairs to start her new business and creates a profile on an online dating site to find her a man. She doesn't know he's arranged a series of blind dates until the first one comes knocking on her door...

As CEO of a corporate downsizing company Sam Mehta is more used to conflict than calm. In search of a quiet new office, he finds the perfect space above a cozy Indian restaurant that smells like home. But when communication goes awry, he's forced to share his space with the owner's beautiful yet infuriating daughter Layla, her crazy family, and a parade of hopeful suitors, all of whom threaten to disrupt his carefully ordered life.

As they face off in close quarters, the sarcasm and sparks fly. But when the battle for the office becomes a battle of the heart, Sam and Layla have to decide if this is love or just a game.

— More well-written enemies to lovers! It’s possible! Seriously, the banter was so good. The kissing was even better. Ridiculous and interfering family is one of my favorite things, and this had it in SPADES. It also made me want to eat samosas, which is kind of my base setting, but I really wanted Indian food whenever I was reading this. Also, the end scene was so goddamn cute I cannot believe it actually happened.

Recipe for Persuasion by Sonali Dev

— The one that got away is one of my favorite tropes, and this modern version of Persuasion did it so well. Everyone was annoying, but in an almost understandable way that made me ache and I just wanted them TO KISS. And then they did kiss! And it was so good! Plus, at the risk of being a little self-indulgent, it was kind of Out of the Frying Pan esque and I liked that a lot. If there is a downside: it’s how quickly the relationship starts up again, like zero to 60 in two seconds flat, and that there were a lot of POVs. Which wouldn’t have been an issue if they’d been labeled, or weren’t bouncing around the timeline randomly. Sometimes I’d have to be like—wait, who’s talking about what?

Chef Ashna Raje desperately needs a new strategy. How else can she save her beloved restaurant and prove to her estranged, overachieving mother that she isn't a complete screw up? When she's asked to join the cast of Cooking with the Stars, the latest hit reality show teaming chefs with celebrities, it seems like just the leap of faith she needs to put her restaurant back on the map. She's a chef, what's the worst that could happen?Rico Silva, that's what.Being paired with a celebrity who was her first love, the man who ghosted her at the worst possible time in her life, only proves what Ashna has always believed: leaps of faith are a recipe for disaster.FIFA winning soccer star Rico Silva isn't too happy to be paired up with Ashna either. Losing Ashna years ago almost destroyed him. The only silver lining to this bizarre situation is that he can finally prove to Ashna that he's definitely over her.But when their catastrophic first meeting goes viral, social media becomes obsessed with their chemistry. The competition on the show is fierce...and so is the simmering desire between Ashna and Rico. Every minute they spend together rekindles feelings that pull them toward their disastrous past. Will letting go again be another recipe for heartbreak—or a recipe for persuasion...?

The Good Luck Charm by Helena Hunting

Lilah isn't sure what hurt worse: the day Ethan left her to focus on his hockey career or the day he came back eight years later. He might think they can pick up just where they left off, but she's no longer that same girl and never wants to be again.

Just when Lilah might finally be ready to let Ethan in, though, she finds out their reunion might have nothing to do with love and everything to do with improving his game. But Ethan's already lost her once, and even if it costs him his career, he'll do anything to keep from losing her again.

— HOCKEY ROM COM. HOCKEY. ROM. COM. Apparently this lady is regarded as the queen of “hockey romance,” which I kind of take offense to, but will give a pass on because this was a very cute book and everyone was cute in it and I was only marginally frustrated by those same people being idiots. As is required by rom coms. Hockey, or otherwise.

A Curse So Dark and Lonely by Brigid Kemmerer

Fall in love, break the curse. It once seemed so easy to Prince Rhen, the heir to Emberfall. Cursed by a powerful enchantress to repeat the autumn of his eighteenth year over and over, he knew he could be saved if a girl fell for him. But that was before he learned that at the end of each autumn, he would turn into a vicious beast hell-bent on destruction. That was before he destroyed his castle, his family, and every last shred of hope.

Nothing has ever been easy for Harper. With her father long gone, her mother dying, and her brother barely holding their family together while constantly underestimating her because of her cerebral palsy, she learned to be tough enough to survive. But when she tries to save someone else on the streets of Washington, DC, she's instead somehow sucked into Rhen's cursed world.

Break the curse, save the kingdom. A prince? A monster? A curse? Harper doesn't know where she is or what to believe. But as she spends time with Rhen in this enchanted land, she begins to understand what's at stake. And as Rhen realizes Harper is not just another girl to charm, his hope comes flooding back. But powerful forces are standing against Emberfall . . . and it will take more than a broken curse to save Harper, Rhen, and his people from utter ruin.

— Beauty and the Beast AU!!! Fantasy! Magic! Romance! I loved this, even when Rhen was being a whiny idiot. But he was also cursed, so like—fair. This dives into the politics of a cursed kingdom, puts a fun spin on the original fairy tale and also has a sequel. Which I read, and possibly enjoyed more. Only to realize the third book isn’t published yet, and then got annoyed by that.

QUESTIONABLY-GOOD FREE FANTASY BOOKS ON AMAZON

The Silver and Orchids Collection by Shari L Tapscott

What happens when a feisty adventuress, a lord looking to make his own way in the world, and a handsome sea captain set out to find Kalae’s rarest and most valuable flower?

Trouble—and lots of it.

— Snarky flirting! Adventure! Sword fights! Listen, this is not prize-winning fiction, but Lucia is a fun heroine, the rest of her adventure-seeking friends are an absolute delight and you don’t have to think too much while reading it. All four books wrap up their individual storylines, but help set up the next one and while the ending felt a little forced (and way too quick) I didn’t hate it enough to throw the Kindle across the room.

Forest of Firelight by Shari L. Tapscsott

After the sudden death of her brother, Princess Amalia is charged with what feels like an impossible task—she must choose the next king. Youthful thoughts of love are pushed aside as she accepts her fate, setting upon a quest throughout the kingdom to find a man worthy of her father’s throne.

Little does Amalia know, someone has already set his sights on her.

Rhys is a man of secrets, and his mission is simple: befriend the princess of Renove. Coax her to trust him, convince her to follow him.

Betray her when it’s time.

All goes according to plan until Rhys meets the princess. Amalia is a disaster. Never has he met someone so drawn to trouble. Never has he met someone so irritatingly likable.

He’s not allowed to fall for her.

She could never entrust him with a crown.

But, unbeknownst to them, their unlikely partnership might be the key to saving their entire world from a darkness that’s slowly creeping from the wounded earth that separates one kingdom from the next.

— FORBIDDEN LOVE! It’s good! Real good! I read this whole series (or the three books in it, so far) in a questionably short amount of time. Again, not the deepest story, and Amalia is occasionally frustratingly dumb. While Rhys is also sort of all-knowing in that fantasy hero sort of way? Y’know what I mean? Still, they banter very well, and eventually kiss even better.

LESS GOOD FANTASY BOOKS THAT PROBABLY SHOULD HAVE JUST BEEN AVAILABLE FOR FREE ON AMAZON

Ash Princess by Laura Sebastian

Theodosia was six when her country was invaded and her mother, the Fire Queen, was murdered before her eyes. On that day, the Kaiser took Theodosia's family, her land, and her name. Theo was crowned Ash Princess—a title of shame to bear in her new life as a prisoner.

For ten years Theo has been a captive in her own palace. She's endured the relentless abuse and ridicule of the Kaiser and his court. She is powerless, surviving in her new world only by burying the girl she was deep inside.

Then, one night, the Kaiser forces her to do the unthinkable. With blood on her hands and all hope of reclaiming her throne lost, she realizes that surviving is no longer enough. But she does have a weapon: her mind is sharper than any sword. And power isn't always won on the battlefield.

For ten years, the Ash Princess has seen her land pillaged and her people enslaved. That all ends here.

— I wanted to love this series. So much so that I read the whole thing. All three books. And I’m still not sure why. The world building, maybe. Which was very good, and the politics actually kept me interested, but every single character was the absolute worst and I kind of wanted them all to die. That’s not even an exaggeration. Spoiler, they didn’t all die. I was only marginally disappointed.

Daughter of the Pirate King by Tricia Levenseller

When the ruthless Pirate King learns of a legendary treasure map hidden on an enemy ship, his daughter, Alosa, knows that there's only one pirate for the job—herself. Leaving behind her beloved ship and crew, Alosa deliberately facilitates her own kidnapping to ensure her passage on the enemy ship. After all, who's going to suspect a seventeen-year-old girl locked in a cell?Then she meets the (surprisingly perceptive and unfairly attractive) first mate, Riden, who is charged with finding out all her secrets. Now it's down to a battle of wits and will... Can Alosa find the map and escape before Riden figures out her plan?

— Alosa was kind of the worst? Like, STRONG FEMALE CHARACTER who had to keep reminding you how strong she was because she would kill anyone, and had an all female pirate crew. And the whole time I was just like, ok...cool. Still, I read the sequel too and that was slightly better.

The Shadows Between Us by Tricia Levenseller

Alessandra is tired of being overlooked, but she has a plan to gain power:

1) Woo the Shadow King.

2) Marry him.

3) Kill him and take his kingdom for herself.

No one knows the extent of the freshly crowned Shadow King's power. Some say he can command the shadows that swirl around him to do his bidding. Others say they speak to him, whispering the thoughts of his enemies. Regardless, Alessandra knows what she deserves, and she's going to do everything within her power to get it.

But Alessandra's not the only one trying to kill the king. As attempts on his life are made, she finds herself trying to keep him alive long enough for him to make her his queen—all while struggling not to lose her heart. After all, who better for a Shadow King than a cunning, villainous queen?

— I cannot explain this book any way except to tell you it is so weird. Like, sometimes I remember I read this and all I can think is: why did this book happen? It felt like it started in the middle of the story, which is not a knock on the story itself, but mostly on the world building. Which was lacking to say the least. Also the resolution was super rushed and even more weird and I was like—why does he like her??? I still don’t know, honestly.

The Stars We Steal by Alexa Donne

Engagement season is in the air. Eighteen-year-old Princess Leonie "Leo" Kolburg, heir to a faded European spaceship, has only one thing on her mind: which lucky bachelor can save her family from financial ruin?

But when Leo's childhood friend and first love, Elliot, returns as the captain of a successful whiskey ship, everything changes. Elliot was the one who got away, the boy Leo's family deemed to be unsuitable for marriage. Now he's the biggest catch of the season and he seems determined to make Leo's life miserable. But old habits die hard, and as Leo navigates the glittering balls of the Valg Season, she finds herself falling for her first love in a game of love, lies, and past regrets.

— Another book whose lack of world building hurt it. Stuff just happened, and we were expected to understand it and be into it and I was neither. I had no reason to care about anyone in this book, especially Elliot who seemed like an asshole.

To Kill a Kingdom by Alexandra Christo

Princess Lira is siren royalty and the most lethal of them all. With the hearts of seventeen princes in her collection, she is revered across the sea. Until a twist of fate forces her to kill one of her own. To punish her daughter, the Sea Queen transforms Lira into the one thing they loathe most—a human. Robbed of her song, Lira has until the winter solstice to deliver Prince Elian's heart to the Sea Queen and or remain a human forever.The ocean is the only place Prince Elian calls home, even though he is heir to the most powerful kingdom in the world. Hunting sirens is more than an unsavory hobby—it's his calling. When he rescues a drowning woman in the ocean, she's more than what she appears. She promises to help him find the key to destroying all of sirenkind for good—But can he trust her? And just how many deals will Elian have to barter to eliminate mankind's greatest enemy?

— This book did not go the way I thought it was going to. Not a bad thing, but also not the best and the ending was...bleh. The middle, though? That was legit, and the action was good. I am always a fan of sword fights. Still, there was something that left me waiting for the final push towards great and it just never really came.

ROM-COMS WITH ONLY PASSABLY FRUSTRATING PLOTS AND GOOD KISSING

Party of Two by Jasmine Guillory

Dating is the last thing on Olivia Monroe's mind when she moves to LA to start her own law firm. But when she meets a gorgeous man at a hotel bar and they spend the entire night flirting, she discovers too late that he is none other than hotshot junior senator Max Powell. Olivia has zero interest in dating a politician, but when a cake arrives at her office with the cutest message, she can't resist—it is chocolate cake, after all.

Olivia is surprised to find that Max is sweet, funny, and noble—not just some privileged white politician, as she assumed him to be. Because of Max's high-profile job, they start seeing each other secretly, which leads to clandestine dates and silly disguises. But when they finally go public, the intense media scrutiny means people are now digging up her rocky past and criticizing her job, even her suitability as a trophy girlfriend. Olivia knows what she has with Max is something special, but is it strong enough to survive the heat of the spotlight?

— It was cute. Max was occasionally an idiot. The kissing was legit. Most of their problems could have very easily been solved, but that’s kind of this genre’s schtick.

The Worst Best Man by Mia Sosa

A wedding planner left at the altar? Yeah, the irony isn't lost on Carolina Santos, either. But despite that embarrassing blip from her past, Lina's offered an opportunity that could change her life. There's just one hitch... she has to collaborate with the best (make that worst) man from her own failed nuptials. Marketing expert Max Hartley is determined to make his mark with a coveted hotel client looking to expand its brand. Then he learns he'll be working with his brother's whip-smart, stunning—absolutely off-limits—ex-fiancée. And she loathes him.If they can nail their presentation without killing each other, they'll both come out ahead. Except Max has been public enemy number one ever since he encouraged his brother to jilt the bride, and Lina's ready to dish out a little payback of her own.Soon Lina and Max discover animosity may not be the only emotion creating sparks between them. Still, this star-crossed couple can never be more than temporary playmates because Lina isn't interested in falling in love and Max refuses to play runner-up to his brother ever again...

— Once you got past the hooking up with your ex’s brother thing, it was cute. Max was endearing in an earnest sort of way, even when Lina was STRONG FEMALE CHARACTER in a cliche sort of way. More solid kissing. Side note, why are so many rom com dudes named Max? Does it sound hip? Passably cool, but also approachable? Discuss. 

Not that Kind of Guy by Andie J. Christopher

State attorney Bridget Nolan is successful in all aspects of her life—except romance. After breaking up with her longtime boyfriend, she's been slow to reenter the dating scene. To be honest, she has more important things to do like putting bad guys behind bars. But with her brother's wedding right around the corner, she suddenly needs a date and fast. Lucky for Bridget, the legal intern is almost done with his program.

Matt Kido is dumbstruck by Bridget—total love at first sight—but there's one problem. She's totally off-limits while she's his boss. But the moment he no longer reports to her, Matt asks her on a date. An impulsive decision takes them to Las Vegas where, as the saying goes, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

Unless you put a ring on it.

— Having written the “wake up in Vegas married” trope before, I know it’s difficult to do right. Consent’s a thing, y’know? And stuff gets dicy with forgotten memories, and all that, but mostly what kept me from truly loving this book was the intern thing. Don’t date your interns guys, it’s weird and off-putting. Literally if he’d just been a junior partner, or a visiting partner or something else I would have been all in.

Meet Cute by Helena Hunting

Kailyn Flowers was always calm, rational, and controlled—until she ended up sprawled all over Daxton Hughes, the former actor she totally crushed on as a teenager. Then she did the unthinkable: She became a mortifying fangirl in five seconds flat, which may or may not have included professing her undying love. And oddly, he didn't run away. In fact, their meet cute led to a friendship she never saw coming. Of course, she never saw his betrayal coming, either...Now Dax needs her help. As guardian to his thirteen-year-old sister, he's in way over his head. And though Kailyn hasn't forgiven Dax, she isn't heartless enough to make him fend for himself, either. Soon their friendly meetings turn into flirty dinner dates, and Kailyn can feel their chemistry is as explosive as ever. But how can she possibly let down her guard again to a guy who has heartbreak written all over him?

— Once again here for the one that got away trope, even if this comes with dead parents and some sad storylines. It still managed to be cute. Everyone was cute in it. Occasionally Daxton was a dick. As rom com male leads are apt to be.

If I Never Met You by Mhairi McFarlane

If faking love is this easy... how do you know when it's real?When her partner of over a decade suddenly ends things, Laurie is left reeling—not only because they work at the same law firm and she has to see him every day. Her once perfect life is in shambles and the thought of dating again in the age of Tinder is nothing short of horrifying. When news of her ex's pregnant girlfriend hits the office grapevine, taking the humiliation lying down is not an option. Then a chance encounter in a broken-down elevator with the office playboy opens up a new possibility.Jamie Carter doesn't believe in love, but he needs a respectable, steady girlfriend to impress their bosses. Laurie wants a hot new man to give the rumor mill something else to talk about. It's the perfect proposition: a fauxmance played out on social media, with strategically staged photographs and a specific end date in mind. With the plan hatched, Laurie and Jamie begin to flaunt their new couple status, to the astonishment—and jealousy—of their friends and colleagues. But there's a fine line between pretending to be in love and actually falling for your charming, handsome fake boyfriend...

— FAKE DATING THAT LEADS TO REAL FEELINGS. The ex-boyfriend was an assssss, the fake boyfriend was charming, everything was good AND THEN WE GOT TO THE END. Which felt more than a little rushed, unexpected and not really in line with the rest of the book?? Give ‘em a slightly better, in-character ending, and I would have been sold.

BOOKS THAT I WAS LIKE...EH, OK

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. Within the black-and-white striped canvas tents is an utterly unique experience full of breathtaking amazements. It is called Le Cirque des Rêves, and it is only open at night.

But behind the scenes, a fierce competition is underway: a duel between two young magicians, Celia and Marco, who have been trained since childhood expressly for this purpose by their mercurial instructors. Unbeknownst to them both, this is a game in which only one can be left standing. Despite the high stakes, Celia and Marco soon tumble headfirst into love, setting off a domino effect of dangerous consequences, and leaving the lives of everyone, from the performers to the patrons, hanging in the balance.

— I think this book was too smart for me. The prose was gorgeous, and the whole thing was very pretty and I definitely swooned when Marco said he wished for Celia. And yet. By the end I was like...eh, ok. Maybe it was the timeline? Jumping around, or how little dialogue there was. I wanted to like it all so badly, and I’m just not sure I did.

Acting on Impulse by Mia Sosa

After a very public breakup with a media-hungry politician, fitness trainer Tori Alvarez escapes to Aruba for rest, relaxation, and copious amounts of sex on the beach—the cocktail, that is. She vows to keep her vacation a man-free zone but when a cute guy is seated next to her on the plane, Tori can't resist a little harmless flirting.Hollywood heartthrob Carter Stone underwent a dramatic physical transformation for his latest role and it's clear his stunning seat mate doesn't recognize the man beneath the shaggy beard and extra lean frame. Now Carter needs help rebuilding his buff physique and Tori is perfect for the job. It doesn't hurt that she makes his pulse pound in more ways than one.Sparks are flying, until a pesky paparazzo reveals Carter's identity. Tori is hurt and pissed. She wants nothing to do with another man in the limelight, but she's still got to whip him into shape. Can Carter convince Tori he's worth the threat to her privacy that comes with dating a famous actor, or will Tori chisel him down to nothing before he even gets the chance?

— Dudes have gotta stop lying about who they are. It’s not a great trope. Other than that, the kissing was good. The romance was like...eh. I honestly don’t remember much else.

Twice in a Blue Moon by Christina Lauren

During a whirlwind two-week vacation abroad, Sam and Tate fell for each other in only the way that first loves do: sharing all of their hopes, dreams, and deepest secrets along the way. Sam was the first, and only, person that Tate—the long-lost daughter of one of the world's biggest film stars—ever revealed her identity to. So when it became clear her trust was misplaced, her world shattered for good.

Fourteen years later, Tate, now an up-and-coming actress, only thinks about her first love every once in a blue moon. When she steps onto the set of her first big break, he's the last person she expects to see. Yet here Sam is, the same charming, confident man she knew, but even more alluring than she remembered. Forced to confront the man who betrayed her, Tate must ask herself if it's possible to do the wrong thing for the right reason... and whether "once in a lifetime" can come around twice.

— This book was...weird. The early romance was wonderful and delightful, but then shit hit the fan and Sam and Tate are adults and...weird. Like, I cannot come up with another word for it. Also, they didn’t really talk much? As adults? Working on the same movie set? W e i r d.

I Owe You One by Sophie Kinsella

Fixie Farr has always lived by her father’s motto: “Family first.” And since her dad passed away, leaving his charming housewares store in the hands of his wife and children, Fixie spends all her time picking up the slack from her siblings instead of striking out on her own. The way Fixie sees it, if she doesn’t take care of her father’s legacy, who will?

It’s simply not in Fixie’s nature to say no to people. So when a handsome stranger in a coffee shop asks her to watch his laptop for a moment, she not only agrees—she ends up saving it from certain disaster. To thank Fixie for her quick thinking, the computer’s owner, Sebastian, an investment manager, scribbles an IOU on a coffee sleeve and attaches his business card. Fixie laughs it off—she’d never actually claim an IOU from a stranger. Would she?

But then Fixie’s childhood crush, Ryan, comes back into her life, and his lack of a profession pushes all of Fixie’s buttons. As always, she wants nothing for herself—but she’d love Seb to give Ryan a job. No sooner has Seb agreed than the tables are turned once more and a new series of IOUs between Seb and Fixie—from small favors to life-changing moments—ensues. Soon Fixie, Ms. Fixit for everyone else, is torn between her family and the life she really wants. Does she have the courage to take a stand? Will she finally grab the life, and love, she really wants?

— Let’s be upfront, I’ve read a lot of Sophie Kinsella in my life, and more often than not I enjoy what she writes. I mostly did here. It was a book. With obvious rom com problems, that could have very easily been solved, but it wasn’t horrible. So, that was good, I guess.

The Wedding Party by Jasmine Guillory

Maddie and Theo have two things in common:

1. Alexa is their best friend

2. They hate each other

After an "oops, we made a mistake" night together, neither one can stop thinking about the other. With Alexa's wedding rapidly approaching, Maddie and Theo both share bridal party responsibilities that require more interaction with each other than they're comfortable with. Underneath the sharp barbs they toss at each other is a simmering attraction that won't fade. It builds until they find themselves sneaking off together to release some tension when Alexa isn't looking, agreeing they would end it once the wedding is over. When it's suddenly pushed up and they only have a few months left of secret rendezvouses, they find themselves regretting that the end is near. Two people this different can't possibly have a connection other than the purely physical, right?

But as with any engagement with a nemesis, there are unspoken rules that must be abided by. First and foremost, don't fall in love.

— Eh, this book happened. I still have no idea why they couldn’t be together from the get. Obstacles for the sake of plot, I guess. Also political side stories? I don’t know, guys.

WEIRD POST-ENDING FEELINGS WERE INDUCED

Beach Read by Emily Henry

Augustus Everett is an acclaimed author of literary fiction. January Andrews writes bestselling romance. When she pens a happily ever after, he kills off his entire cast.

They're polar opposites.

In fact, the only thing they have in common is that for the next three months, they're living in neighboring beach houses, broke, and bogged down with writer's block.

Until, one hazy evening, one thing leads to another and they strike a deal designed to force them out of their creative ruts: Augustus will spend the summer writing something happy, and January will pen the next Great American Novel. She'll take him on field trips worthy of any rom-com montage, and he'll take her to interview surviving members of a backwoods death cult (obviously). Everyone will finish a book and no one will fall in love. Really.

— Listen, I enjoyed this a lot. For the most part. It was funny, and introspective in a way that didn’t make me want to gag too much, and I wanted to defend January’s love of love with everything in me. But, then it—ended. And it was like...all tied up with this nice little ribbon and happily ever after, and I was like...oh, ok. Part of me that it was glad it ended like that, mostly because of who I am as a person, but the rest of me was also confused that after everything January and Augustus had been through and how messy their lives were it could just get all wrapped up in this HEA.

HITTING JUST A BIT TOO CLOSE TO HOME

Spoiler Alert by Olivia Dade

Marcus Caster-Rupp has a secret. The world may know him as Aeneas, star of the biggest show on television, but fanfiction readers call him something else: Book!AeneasWouldNever. Marcus gets out his frustrations with the show through anonymous stories about the internet's favorite couple, Aeneas and Lavinia. But if anyone discovered his online persona, he'd be finished in Hollywood.April Whittier has secrets of her own. A hardcore Lavinia fan, she's long hidden her fanfic and cosplay hobbies from her "real life"—but not anymore. When she dares to post her latest costume creation on Twitter, her plus-size take goes viral. And when Marcus asks her out to spite her internet critics, truth officially becomes stranger than fanfiction. On their date, Marcus quickly realizes he wants more from April than a one-time publicity stunt. But when he discovers she's Unapologetic Lavinia Stan, his closest fandom friend, he has one more huge secret to keep from her.With love and Marcus's career on the line, can the two of them stop hiding once and for all, or will a match made in fandom end up prematurely cancelled?

— Here for plus-size heroines who get the guy and don’t have their (entire) storyline defined by their looks. Less here for the weird fandom culture, the ensuing second-hand embarrassment that came from that and the thankfulness that both Colin O’Donoghue and Bob Morley appear to be happily married so it seems very unlikely they’re writing fic about their characters under pseudonyms. Stop using Ao3 in actual published stories 2k4ever.

RAGE-INDUCING BOOKS OF ABSOLUTE FURY

The Friend Zone by Abby Jimenez

Kristen Peterson doesn't do drama, will fight to the death for her friends, and has no room in her life for guys who just don't get her. She's also keeping a big secret: facing a medically necessary procedure that will make it impossible for her to have children.Planning her best friend's wedding is bittersweet for Kristen — especially when she meets the best man, Josh Copeland. He's funny, sexy, never offended by her mile-wide streak of sarcasm, and always one chicken enchilada ahead of her hangry. Even her dog, Stuntman Mike, adores him. The only catch: Josh wants a big family someday. Kristen knows he'd be better off with someone else, but as their attraction grows, it's harder and harder to keep him at arm's length.The Friend Zone will have you laughing one moment and grabbing for tissues the next as it tackles the realities of infertility and loss with wit, heart, and a lot of sass.

— LISTEN THERE ARE SPOILERS HERE, BUT I FEEL LIKE YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT THEM BECAUSE THIS BOOK IS A SECRET GUT PUNCH AND PEOPLE SHOULD BE AWARE. Not only is infertility, like, the defining theme of this book, but the BEST FRIEND DIES. Just—dies. It’s horrible. Absolutely God awful depressing. And for a second he looks like he won’t, and it’ll be fine, but then it is not and he’s just D E A D. I know, I know that sets up the sequel, but this was so goddamn heavy in an unsuspecting way that I have absolutely no intention of reading the next one.

Well Met by Jen DeLuca

Emily knew there would be strings attached when she relocated to the small town of Willow Creek, Maryland, for the summer to help her sister recover from an accident, but who could anticipate getting roped into volunteering for the local Renaissance Faire alongside her teenaged niece? Or that the irritating and inscrutable schoolteacher in charge of the volunteers would be so annoying that she finds it impossible to stop thinking about him?

The faire is Simon's family legacy and from the start he makes clear he doesn't have time for Emily's lighthearted approach to life, her oddball Shakespeare conspiracy theories, or her endless suggestions for new acts to shake things up. Yet on the faire grounds he becomes a different person, flirting freely with Emily when she's in her revealing wench's costume. But is this attraction real, or just part of the characters they're portraying?

This summer was only ever supposed to be a pit stop on the way to somewhere else for Emily, but soon she can't seem to shake the fantasy of establishing something more with Simon or a permanent home of her own in Willow Creek.

— FUCK THIS BOOK. And fuck Simon, specifically. Oh, you have a sad story? Cool, you’re still a dick. He was a dick. Listen, I know enemies to lovers is a hard trope to write, but it’s even harder to accept when those enemies just announce I LIKED YOU THE WHOLE TIME and then everyone starts ripping off their clothes. No, it’s dumb. I hate it. Apparently there’s a sequel to this book. Maybe that’s better.

Kiss My Cupcake by Helena Hunting

Blaire Calloway has planned every Instagram-worthy moment of her cupcake and cocktails shop launch down to the tiniest detail. What she didn't plan on? Ronan Knight and his old-school sports bar next door opening on the very same day. He may be super swoony, but Blaire hasn't spent years obsessing over buttercream and bourbon to have him ruin her chance at success.From axe throwing (his place) to frosting contests (hers), Blaire and Ronan are constantly trying to one-up each other in a battle to win new customers. But with every clash, there's also an undeniable chemistry. When an even bigger threat to their business comes to town, they're forced to call a temporary time-out on their own war and work together. And the more time Blaire spends getting to know the real Ronan, the more she wonders if it's possible to have her cupcake and eat it too.

— Listen, I wanted to like this one. There were plenty other Helena Hunting books on this list, so like—I don’t hate her. I just hate poorly executed enemies to lovers plot lines. Give me at least one moment where they are interested in each other aside from just being attracted to each other. Also: Stop Having Dudes Be Dicks Because Of Their Sad Backstory 2k4ever.

Don’t You Forget About Me by Mhairi McFarlane

You always remember your first love... don't you?If there's anything worse than being fired from the worst restaurant in town, it's coming home early to find your boyfriend in bed with someone else. Reeling from the humiliation of a double dumping in one day, Georgina takes the next job that comes her way—bartender in a newly opened pub. There's only one problem: it's run by the guy she fell in love with years ago. And—make that two problems—he doesn't remember her. At all. But she has fabulous friends and her signature hot pink fur coat... what more could a girl really need?Lucas McCarthy has not only grown into a broodingly handsome man, but he's also turned into an actual grown-up, with a thriving business and a dog along the way. Crossing paths with him again throws Georgina's rocky present into sharp relief—and brings a secret from her past bubbling to the surface. Only she knows what happened twelve years ago, and why she's allowed the memories to chase her ever since. But maybe it's not too late for the truth... or a second chance with the one that got away?

— HE WAS JUST PRETENDING NOT TO REMEMBER HER THE WHOLE TIME???? WHAT?? WHY??? D U M B. Dumb boys are dumb.

Not the Girl You Marry by Andie J. Christopher

Jack Nolan is a gentleman, a journalist, and unlucky in love. His viral success has pigeon-holed him as the how-to guy for a buzzy, internet media company instead of covering hard-hitting politics. Fed up with his fluffy articles and the app-based dating scene as well, he strikes a deal with his boss to write a final piece de resistance: How to Lose a Girl. Easier said than done when the girl he meets is Hannah Mayfield, and he's not sure he wants her to dump him.

Hannah is an extremely successful event planner who's focused on climbing the career ladder. Her firm is one of the most prestigious in the city, and she's determined to secure her next promotion. But Hannah has a bit of an image problem. She needs to show her boss that she has range, including planning dreaded, romantic weddings. Enter Jack. He's the perfect man to date for a couple weeks to prove to her boss that she's not scared of feelings.

Before Jack and Hannah know it, their fake relationship starts to feel all too real—and neither of them can stand to lose each other.

— This is actually the prequel to Not That Kind of Guy and I honestly can’t believe I read that after hating this book so much. They were awful to each other! Their whole relationship was based on lies! Mean lies! Horrible lies! Don’t lie to your significant other!

#book recs #fiction recs #rom com recs #fantasy recs #or: i read solely fantasy and rom com books in 2020 #this does not include any david eddings or meg cabot rereads #which also happened #and i endorse them wholeheartedly too #if you have read any of these books PLEASE share your thoughts with me #i am desperate for them #or your own recs of what you read this year #laura reads books #welllp these are books

[365days365movies]

February 19, 2021: The Phantom of the Opera (2004) (Part 1)

I love musicals.

Hands down, when talking cinematic adaptations of musicals, my favorite is Little Shop of Horrors. I’ve seen it MANY times, and will see it many, MANY more. And I’m not the only one. I mean, obviously, but in this case, I’m referring to my girlfriend. She’s chosen to represent herself with a GIF from her favorite musical, Hairspray. So, here she is:

Ravishing. Now, because it’s currently our anniversary, I let her pick today’s movie from my list. And so, she chose a musical that neither she nor I have seen: 2004′s The Phantom of the Opera. And some of you may now be saying, “What, this guy said he liked movie musicals, and he hasn’t seen TPotS? That’s like saying you haven’t seen Grease, or Singin’’ in the Rain, or, PFFT, West Side Story!”

...About that...

Yeah, yeah, I know! It’s insane, and I’m a hypocrite. I’ll be getting to the rest of those eventually, and one of them’ll be coming in the next couple of days, I promise. You can probably guess which one. Anyway, fact of the matter is that we’re gonna watch it tonight, and I’m looking forward to it. 

However, there’s another factor to this, and that’s the fact that this film...doesn’t have the best reputation amongst fans of the original musical. And, yeah, this should ideally be the Michael Crawford version, but the Butler version is the one I have access to, so we’re going for it. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

Paris, 1919, back when the whole city was in black-and-white for a year. They lost the budget for color after World War I. Anyway, at an old opera house, an auction is taking place, and items found within the theater are for sale. One of these is a music box with a monkey on it, an item which sponsors a bidding war between an older woman, and an older man in a wheelchair. I’m sure we’ll find out who they are eventually.

Anyway, a broken chandelier is also up for option, and was involved in the mysterious disaster of the “Phantom of the Opera” fiasco. They turn it on with electric light, and as they raise it to the ceiling, the organist goes fuckin’ NUTS. The song’s so loud that it REVERSES TIME, and we’re now in color, in the year 1870 at the same opera house.

The theatre, managed by the soon-to-retire Monsieur Lefèvre (James Fleet), has just been purchased by Richard Firmin (Ciaran Hinds) and Gilles André (Simon Callow), who are there to observe. On stage, a rehearsal for the opera Hannibal is taking place, and the costume’s are already...like, a LOT, not gonna lie. The headliner for the show is soprano (and drama queen supreme) Carlotta Giudicelli (Minnie Driver), and is being funded by patron Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny (Patrick Wilson). 

The background dancers are instructed by Madame Giry (Miranda Richardson), and include her daughter, Meg (Jennifer Ellison), and her adopted daughter, Christine Daaé (Emmy Rossum). As the rehearsal takes place, an accident happens on stage, almost injuring Carlotta. Enraged, she leaves, and refuses to perform.

Meanwhile, Madame Giry finds a letter from the Phantom, who demands his normal monthly salary of 20,000 francs, as for Box 5 to be left open. While the new owners think that this is ridiculous, they also note that it’s pointless without a lead singer for their show. 

However, Christine is volunteered, and shows that she is indeed a talented singer. The show goes on, and Christine is a smash, much to Carlotta’s dismay. At this point, Raoul also discovers that this is his long lost childhood friend (and possibly long lost love) Christine, which she also noticed earlier.

But this is because of a mysterious teacher, who sings to her from the walls of the theatre. Meg comes in to congratulate her (through song), and asks who her tutor is. Meg responds...in song (”Angel of Music”).

Afterwards, Madame Giry also congratulates her, and tells her that the Phantom is pleased with her. Right after, Raoul also pays her a visit, and the two reconnect on shared memories of times in an attic in the summer. She tells Raoul that she is visited by an Angel of Music, and cannot go to the dinner that night with him. And the Phantom agrees, as he locks Christine in her room. YIKES. 

And as literally every person in the theatre except Christine leaves, the Phantom serenades her, angered by Raoul’s presence, and Christine’s potential dalliance with him (”Mirror”). And through the mirror, he takes her to a mysterious crypt beneath the theatre. And as they sing their strange duet in the form of the title song (”The Phantom of the Opera”)...I try to resist talking about Gerard Butler until later. And it’s hard. It’s SO hard, guys.

But, OK, he takes her away on a...sewer horse...how the FUCK did he get that horse down there? And wait, WAIT, does he put her on that horse to walk her, like, 20 feet to the gondola? Like...WHY DO YOU HAVE THE HORSE? That is...monumentally wasteful. Where do you keep the horse? Does he feed the horse? How much? How often? With what? Does the horse eat the sewer rats? Is there naturally growing sewer hay? Does the Phantom’s salary go towards buying food for the horse, or buying new horses when the original ones DIE OF STARVATION - WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH THIS HORSE?!?!? WHOMSTVE THE FUCK

And yes, I love this fuckin’ song (not the singers, but we’ll get there), but this is distracting me alongside the statues of naked men in the sewer, because...well, Joel Schumacher. What can I say, it’s kind of his aesthetic. Anyway, we get officially introduced to the Phantom of the Opera (Gerard Butler), a very handsome-looking man who likes wearing a half-mask.

I say handsome, because the Phantom in this movie, looks...fine. HE LOOKS OK. HE LOOKS LIKE A DUDE WEARING A MASK. What, did somebody throw a hot candle at his face once, and he freaked out over it and ran into the sewers forever...WITH A HORSE? NOT OVER THE HORSE SHIT.

Look, the Phantom is supposed to be HIDEOUSLY scarred. Famously, in one of the film adaptations of Phantom, actor Lon Chaney Jr. purposely distorted his own face using adhesive face in order to play the role of the hideously disfigured character. Now, other versions have just given him severe, and I mean SEVERE burn scars. But behind the mask, Butler looks...fine. HE LOOKS FINE GODDAMMIT. He looks like he’s wearing the mask because it looks edgy and shit.

But OK, what’s happening in the movie? Oh, right, more serenading (”Music of the Night”), with another song that I like quite a bit. This and the previous song were songs Id heard before, and that I’d already had on my playlist. They’re great, what can I say? Now is Butler doing it justice? Ehhhhhhh, we’ll talk about that in the Review.

During this song he kinda seduces her, or attempts to, and also shows her a wedding dress. She sees herself in it and IMMEDIATELY faints, Jesus!  Curtain falls on Christine while she’s in a bed, and we go back to her room, where Meg is looking for her. She finds the mirror, and is about to go back there, but her mother finds and stops her.

Meanwhile, stagehand Joseph Buquet (Kevin McNally) tells the chorus girls of the legend of the Phantom, and describes a physical description that doesn’t match him...even a little. We cut back to Christine, who wakes up in what my girlfriend refers to as a “bomb-ass HQ.” Which is fair, let’s be honest. Anyway, she heads over and tries to unmask her new masked lover (?).

He’s not the biggest fan of this, and he emos all over the screen (”Stranger Than You Dreamt It”). And then, as he puts his mask on, we suddenly (and I mean suddenly) jump to 1919, where the old woman, Madame Giry, bids farewell to...wait, that’s Raoul? HOW DOES HE LOOK SO MUCH OLDER THAN HER, WHAT???

Back in the past, inexplicably, the theatre owners and manager sing about the theatre and the Phantom’s demands ("Notes..."), and are soon joined by Raoul, who brings them a separate note, saying not to look for Christina any further. THEN, Carlotta joins them, delivering a letter of her own from the Phantom, warning her not to return to the theatre.

In his letters, he details how his theatre is to be run, threatening a disaster if Christine is not cast in the lead role, and if Carlotta is not cast in a silent role. However, the theatre owners and Carlotta refuse to obey, and Carlotta is cast in the role, as the owners try to appease her (”Prima Donna”).

That night, during a performance of Il Muto, Carlotta’s singing the lead role. Additionally, Box Five is full, and the Phantom is PISSED. So, like a Phantom do, it’s time for some good old fashioned petty revenge! He switches her throat spray, causing her to lose her voice on stage, and causing the audience to laugh when the show ends abruptly. They quickly and publicly recast the role, giving it to Christine instead. Well, mission accomplished by the Phantom! Guess we’re good without retribution. And then he hangs the stagehand.

Well...fuck, man. Realizing that the Phantom is EXTREMELY dangerous, Christine goes to save Raoul, who she...is in a relationship with now? Wait...wait, hold up, the fuck did I miss? I mean, yeah, he probably is gonna kill Raoul, but there is, like, NO lead-up to their connection before this point.

Anyway, as Christine explains that there is a Phantom when Raoul says he doesn’t exist...wait, WHAT? MOTHER FUCKER BUQUET JUST NOT MURDERED IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY WHAT IN THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN????? YOU LITERALLY HEARD THE...you know what? Break. BREAK. This is...this one’s tough.

See you in Part 2!

#the phantom of the opera #phantom of the opera #the phantom of the opera 2004 #phantom of the opera 2004 #poto #poto 2004 #joel schumacher #andrew lloyd webber #gerard butler #erik #emmy rossum #Christine Daaé #patrick wilson #miranda richardson #simon callow #Ciarán Hinds #romance february #romance film #musical #musical film #movie musical #user365 #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #motionpicturesource

[writemarvelousthings]

She Wolf

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 993 

Summary: He finds you in the dark and cold, but can he really run with a she wolf. 

Warnings: none really except a little tiny bit of smut 

A/N: Alright my dudes, it’s been a while since i wrote anything of substance and I was reading a lot of poetry and I got inspired and ran with it. This is just me stretching out my writing muscles again. So feed back would really really be appreciated as I’m trying to get my confidence back again. So here we go. 

Gif not mine. 

She was nothing like Steve has ever experienced. A beauty bathed in smoke and blood, a cosmic paradox that he had never wanted to run as far away from. And yet, he had a deep need to crawl deep inside her and fuse his skin to her bones. She was a wolf and didn’t apologise for it.

You were always destined for more than what you were born into. That’s what your handler would always say. Beautiful and lethal was a dangerous mix. Snatched away from your old life you became a mystery crawled in destruction and death. You were forged out of steel with a fire in your veins and a grin that could make the worst of them tremble in your wake, but not one.

He found you in an isolation cage deep in the belly of the raft. He was a war criminal, no longer was he the golden boy. No, he was darker and more broken. Pieces of him shattered and lost to the wind. Maybe that's why he didn’t run away, why he ignored every atom in his molecular structure to leave you there. The figure sat in the dark eyes trained on him, watching his every move like a wild animal waiting to strike. He couldn’t run, his feet fused to the cold damp floor. The growing darkness inside him whispered in his ear, the key pad smashed under his hand like sand. And you smiled.

You were used to being on your own. A lone she wolf dancing in the flames of the destruction you left behind, like bread crumbs teasing him.

‘I’m here, follow me. Come find me’

But the thrill of the chase and the hunt were both intoxicating. Steve often wondered who was the wolf and who was Red Riding hood being led to their doom. It was a terrifying thought to Steve, that you were both. Innocent and deadly, something he couldn’t understand but wanted more.

He chased you around the world, always two steps behind until he finally caught up. It was a small apartment in Prague where he found you. Your hair still damp from your earlier shower, bloodied clothes thrown haphazardly across the desk chair. Smoke billowing from your lips as the cigarette dangled loosely between your fingers. Your eyes gazed to his, calling to him like a siren in dark waters. It took two strides for him to be on you, caging you between the cold of the window and the warmth of his chest. He swore he could see the flashes of fire in your eyes as you took another drag, smoke filling his senses before he closed the gap between you. He swallowed your moans, relishing the feeling of your fingers in his hair along his shoulders, down his chest and lower. Grasping his length around your fingers making a growl thunder in his chest reverberating through his bones. Oh how he loved it, each breath you took was invitingly toxic.

He took you right up against the window. This Adonis, Atlas the man with the world on his shoulders. Fighting for what he believed in and yet here he was. Cock heavy between your legs, draped over you, breathing you in. You could see underneath all that responsibility, he was a man not unlike you, forged in volcanoes and earthquakes. Strong enough to crush your windpipe with a snap of his wrist and yet here he was. Reborn inside you, baptised between your thighs as he snapped his hips against yours causing your back to arch up. Stars of pleasure danced under your eyelids. He was a man of mystery and you found yourself falling deeper and deeper.

The tangled bodies on the floor were almost moulded into one. Steve didn’t quite know where you started and he ended, fingers danced across skin. Tracing lines and discovering scars. Scars tell stories that can never be put into words, Steve discovered you had more than most. He didn’t pry, he knew breaking you out of the raft you had to have a past. Why would they lock you awake in the dark and cold, far away from the light. Yes you had a past, but Steve wasn’t sure either of you wanted to open that pandora's box.

The world had gone to hell, for five years he thought of nothing else but you. The girl who was forged in flames turned to ash in his hands. Five years of trying to move on and it led to a battlefield. He was tired, he was ready to let the jaws of death take him. And then he saw you, a wolf in battle. Soaked in blood and dust, the flash of war in your eyes as you prowled your domain. Equal parts of grace and lethal power he had been drawn too, he watches as you turn. Eyes fleck with ash as you seek him out and grin.

The dust had finally settled and life resumed as normal as it could. Families reconnected and reformed, you think back to where your life began full of gunfire and poison. A she wolf howling in the night. Wandering down the halls of the new Avengers compound, it was strange being a part of something that was good. Trying to help the world grow from the hell it endured in the last five years, you stopped in front of a door. Brand new writing marking it for all to see.

‘Director of the Avengers’

It was a new ear for you. A chance to finally use the steel in your bones for good, opening the door blue eyes look up from the large desk. The golden boy now with shades of grey and red in his ledger trying to make the world a better place smiled. It was a knowing smile that shared with you all the secrets you needed to know. And you grinned, you finally found your pack.

Tagging those who might be interested! 

@abovethesmokestacks  @bucky-plums-barnes​ @fvckingavengers​ @shreddedparchment @captain-rogers-beard @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @sinner-as-saint​ 

#steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #captain america x reader #captain america imagine

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Sorry if you've answered this before but I'm curious about the lost tomb. Does one need to watch the other seasons to watch the reboot or whatever the new thing is? I saw gifs from it a couple months back and thought the cast was really pretty but didn't watch because I didn't want to have to watch all that other stuff to get to the pretty boys yanno? Would I be losing out on anything by not watching the other content?

Hum...

So I watched “The Lost Tomb” first, the original season is only 10 episodes long, and then dove immediately into “Reunion”;  but since every single character is re-cast between seasons with extremely few exceptions, you still have to learn everyone over again. I did feel like I was missing some stuff, but not to a degree that impacted my viewing.

Um... I’ll make a little character guide for you. Read that and you should be fine::

Wu Xie (Iron Triangle #1)

Wu Xie is the main POV focus. Wu Xie’s great-grandfather began robbing tombs during China’s great famine as a way to feed his family. He left behind The Gravedigger’s Notebook (title of the book series), which catalogues hidden tombs both explored and rumored. It is considered the family’s greatest treasure.

Wu Xie does not rob tombs to make money. He believes in studying their history and secrets, and sort of goes in as an advanced scout before summoning archaeological teams and donating everything inside to museums and such.

In the original “Lost Tomb” series (2015), Wu Xie is poisoned inside a tomb. To save his life, Xiao Ge feeds him something called “Dragon Medicine”- an ancient, rare form of Chinese medicine that grows more potent with age. The piece Wu Xie eats is 3,000 years old, and it causes permanent changes to his DNA. This appears in the story as both Wu Xie’s blood being used to protect others sometimes and whenever someone mentions Wu Xie having “Dragon’s Blood”.

Kylin // Zhang Qiling // Xiao Ge (Iron Triangle #2)

A 100+++ year old tomb raider. Xiao Ge is the patriarch of the most powerful tomb raiding family- though he doesn’t have anything to do with them. His kind are incredibly long lived and he may even be an immortal- so long as he doesn’t die of injury, starvation, cold, etc.

His blood is a deterrent to most of the creepy crawlies in tombs, it can cure some poisons, and he has two fingers on his right hand that are elongated and possess near super strength thanks to an ancient and lost technique. 

Xiao Ge often wanders off on his own, but he always appears when Wu Xie is in trouble. For an unknown reason, Xiao Ge has had a couple instances in the past where he as badly injured and lost time or memory entirely, so much of his past is a mystery to him as well.

Wang Pangzi // Fatty (Iron Triangle #3)

Wu Xie’s constant companion and, along with Xiao Ge, one of his best friends. Pangzi was a tomb robber once upon a time, but a couple of raids in a row landed him with Wu Xie, who doesn’t allow him to steal.

Pangzi has friends in low places, but Wu Xie has become the person he is most loyal to. Seriously, they act like an old married couple most of the time. Oh, and Pangzi might have magical abilities like Xiao Ge- no matter how long they’ve been in a tomb or how unprepared they were to enter, he somehow always has plenty of peanuts or sunflower seeds in his pockets. It’s a running joke.

** Wu Xie’s uncle Sanxing had a companion and right hand man named Panzi who is mentioned a couple times. It gets confusing, just a heads up.

Wu Sanxing // Third Uncle

(Couldn’t find a GIF)

Wu Xie’s father is the first brother, Wu Sanxing is the third (the second is listed next). Wu Xie idolized his uncle Sanxing his entire life, but Wu Sanxing vanished after a tomb exploration, never to be seen or heard from again. 

Wu Xie’s guiding mission is to find his uncle Sanxing at all costs- but to do that he must use his grandfather’s notebook to follow in his uncle’s footsteps and try to piece together a decades-old mystery.

Wu Erbai // Second Uncle

Wu Xie’s... second uncle, lmao!

With Wu Sanxing missing, Wu Erbai is the only family Wu Xie has around (in some “Lost Tomb” adaptations Wu Xie says his parents are dead, but in this one it is implied they are alive but estranged from Wu Xie). Wu Erbai is a bit of a mob boss, though he is kind to his family. He tends to finance Wu Xie’s explorations and takes a keen interest in his nephew’s safety and wellbeing.

A-Ning

(No GIF)

A-Ning was one of the first tomb robbers Wu Xie ever encountered on his travels. Over “The Lost Tomb” series, Wu Xie and A-Ning go from enemies to friends- and there are little hints that they may have been heading towards intimate relations.

In “Reunion”, A-Ning is revealed to have died on Wu Xie’s watch as they searched for a tomb (IDK if this is part of another of the Lost Tomb shows, I’m going back now to watch my way through the whole series). Her memory is very present in the story, so it was worth mentioning her.

Black Glasses // Hei Yanjing

(Not Giffed, but... you know... look for a dude all in black wearing sunglasses religiously)

One of the people Wu Erbai has on his payroll. Black Glasses is another semi-immortal. He is only a little bit younger than Xiao Ge, and very nearly his equal in terms of power. 

Yanjing’s main abilities lie in his eyes though. Out in the world- day or night- he is blind without his simple black sunglasses. In a pitch-black tomb though, he can see perfectly due to his insanely good night vision.

Xiao Ge fights mainly with his sword, but Yanjing is more fond of modern weapons such as guns. He’ll use anything to his advantage- and he’s quite mouthy. I think he and Xiao Ge are... cousins? Or something?

=========

=========

That’s pretty much it for “Reunion”. There are a few other characters who are returns from earlier seasons, but their purposes are pretty easy to guess and their roles minor enough that you’ll pick up on their characters pretty quickly. This includes Liu Sang- the one whose GIFsets I keep sharing :)

The show contains itself in its own story very well, so I think you’ll be able to make it through. But if you feel lost, all I watched before going into it was “The Lost Tomb” from 2015 (10 episodes), mainly to learn who the characters are. You can also look up the characters in the DMBJ Wiki (DMBJ = shorthand for the name of the novel).

#ask #mistakenforademigod

[writerfangirlbooks]

Bobby’s Daughter Part 3

Dean x Y/N Prompt: 1) Imagine flirting with Dean Winchester before he finds out you're Bobby Singer's daughter. 2) Imagine flirting and taking things to the next level with Dean before finding out one another's identity at Bobby's birthday party. 3) Imagine taking care of Dean in Bobby's house after he is hurt during a hunt.

A/N: part 4 is going to be uploaded to the Wattpad story later today, so if you want more go check it out! Part 5 will be out beginning of October probably. Not sure if it’ll be the end of the series. 

Word Count: about 2870 words

Credit to gif owner!

The rest of the dinner went well. Neither Dean's brother or your dad said anything about your absence, but they didn't really have a reason to. You hoped not to give them one. You felt more at ease, able to sit back and relax. The boys had decided on the best solution for the case and were preparing to take care of it. You offered to go with them, but a side-glance from Bobby told you to stay out of it. Dean took notice and offered a smile.

"We figure you don't want to miss out on annoying this crazy man, but maybe next time," Dean said.

"You two idgits hurry up and be safe. Come back soon before Y/N eats all the pie," your dad ordered. You laughed before helping Sam grab some of the supplies needed for their spell. The two of you walked outside and struck up your first real conversation.

"So, uh, nice to meet you, Sam. I gotta say, I'm surprised I've never run into you or Dean before," you said lightly. You kept your gaze focused on Sam and your contents, avoiding actually looking at their beautiful car.

Sam was basically a giant next to you and it was a struggle to strain your neck to glance up at him as he replied. The two of you began organizing the trunk. "Well, we're never in one spot for long. Glad to meet you as well. It's a shame we won't be working together. I would enjoy the company of a book reader."

"Hey, I read," complained Dean.

He was carrying boxes filled with equipment and weapons. The weight of it was apparently quite a bit, because the muscles in his arms tightened, wrapping around his sleeves. Dean was barely able to see you above the three large boxes. You were grateful to be above average height when standing next to these two men because they were obnoxiously tall. Sam stepped back.

"Maybe next time. I ought to hang back with dad for a while," you admitted.

"Yeah. I think I left something inside. If you give Dean or I your number, we can call you later, see if you want to join a hunt, or have any advice. You have quite the helpful books," Sam said.

With that, he left. You turned back to Dean, who finished unloading the boxes into the surprisingly organized trunk of his shiny car. He slammed the trunk shut and leaned against it, hips pressed back. His eyes seemed darker in the shade as they met yours with a small smirk.

"Yeah, how 'bout it, Y/N? Can I have your number?"

This led to a full, teasing grin. You shook your head and rolled your eyes. God, it was hard to hide your smile. You took a step away, the easygoing banter creating a more heated tension that you did not need brought into your dad's house.

Dean pouted, standing straighter. "No?"

"You think you're cute, don't you?" You asked with a laugh.

"I think I'm adorable," Dean responded. He stepped closer.

The door cracked open and your father's voice rang out in a goodbye to Sam, who stepped carelessly over to the car, unaware of the electricity buzzing around. The three of you shared a too soon, too small goodbye. You watched the Impala until it was out of sight.

-

You spent the next four days at your dad's place. You had your few go-bags settled into your old room and clothes draped aimlessly on the floor. The two of you had quickly settled into a routine of you fixing breakfast and him ordering fast food for dinner. Pie was the best consistency. You felt comfortable asking for more information on the Winchester brothers, getting the details about their lives, which Bobby begrudgingly told. He mentioned other local hunters, hoping this would encourage you to not constantly work around.

The two of you were relaxing on the couch when the phone rang. You were sorting through photos on your camera and Bobby was watching an old western movie. You glanced at how calm he seemed and offered to get the landline. He nodded with a grunt and you walked into the kitchen, accepting the call.

"Bobby? It's Sam. Something's happened to Dean. We're on the way to your place now. He insists on no hospital, so it'll be a few hours. We were-"

Sam's words blurred together as your blood ran cold. You were surprised the phone didn't slip out of your hand with how sweaty it was. This was a man you barely knew, injured to who-knows-what extent. You should feel mild concern, not this deep-seeded and breathtaking worry. You steadied your breaths and batted your eyes to focus back on what Sam was saying.

"Sam, it's Y/N here. We'll be waiting with medical supplies. Be safe."

You rushed over to tell your dad the news. He sighed and the two of you went to work. You cleaned up your room while Bobby gathered the necessary kits. It took a stressing amount of time for the brothers to return. Sam didn't look much different from when you last saw him less than a week ago except for the tiredness under his eyes. You rushed to the passenger side when the door flew open, Dean trying angerly to swing his boots over the side. His features softened by a few fractions when he saw it was you trying to help him.

"What the hell did you do?" You muttered.

He laughed weakly and leaned back in the seat. You took the sight of him in. This was not how you expected to see him again. The most fortunate notice was that wherever the injury was, it was not life threatening. Dean was pale and more than likely dehydrated. His clothes were covered in a mixture of dirt, blood, and some other substance. He was desperately trying to play it cool.

You shook away your thoughts and moved to help him stand, though he quickly and gently pushed your hands away. Bobby had just made it outside. You may have ran out here the second the car entered the lot. Sam was saying something to him and Bobby responded. Your focus was helping this stupid, helplessly handsome man.

"I got it," he grumbled.

"You gonna man up and accept help or sit there and stir?" You asked, your arms still outreached.

"You really are Bobby's daughter," he whined.

He shifted forward and closed his eyes for a few moments, eyebrows furrowed. He grunted, finally moving an arm around you, and ducking when the two of you stumbled out of his vehicle. More weight than you expected pressed against you. Dean mumbled something in your ears and you were suddenly grateful the others were more than a few feet away.

Sam and Bobby took Dean into their arms, ushering him into the house and onto the nearest place to lie down which happened to be the couch. Bobby pulled up a chair and the medical supplies. Sam was speedtalking through what happened, clearly anxious. You stood to the back of the room, trying to distance yourself. You shouldn't feel this heavy.

At the same time, you felt like you were intruding. The brothers were closer to your father than you had originally been led to believe. These weren't just some 'kid hunters that he occasionally helped out'. Your dad was caring after Dean no differently than he looked after you when you were sick. He was like a father to them.

The thought made something deep in your stomach curl. You weren't sure why the thought was so unpleasant, but you slipped back outside and sat on the front steps of the battered porch. You took a few breaths and placed your head in your hands. The bright afternoon sun warmed your body. You glanced around at the dirty, unorganized property. This was supposed to be home, yet you felt so out of place.

You wished you had grabbed your camera, but you had left it on the sidetable in the living room, discarded in such a frenzied panic. The sun was beginning to set already. You were sure if you wandered long enough, there would be some fun wildlife to capture on film. Nevertheless, you were stuck here. Breaking you from your thoughts, the door behind you creaked open and Sam stepped outside.

He gave a small smile. It took a few seconds to realize he was waiting for an invitation, so you nodded. The younger brother sat down near you on the steps. His plaid shirt was missing, leaving just a regular tee. He released a stressed breath that turned into a nervous laugh.

"How is he?" You asked, your voice surprisingly steady and calm.

Sam's eyes were many shades darker than Dean's, you noticed for the first time as he looked at you. "Much better. He's resting now. I feel so ridiculous. If we hadn't separated..."

You hadn't expected to have to console Sam, but that's what you were going to do. It was clear he was beating himself up about what happened to Dean. Some logic would have pointed to that being the case. Splitting up on hunts sometimes went great. Other times not so much. This just happened to be one of those times. Regardless, you were more prone to lead with your heart over your head.

"Sam, it's not your fault. From what you said, this was something the two of you agreed on. Right? And you said he's doing better. So give it a little time, I'm sure he'll be back on his feet. I'm sure you've done more good than harm," you said.

The shaggier-head brother seemed to ponder this before he nodded in agreement. "I guess... There's been so much pain around us these past few years. Ever since I left Stanford, things-"

"Hold up. You went to Stanford?" You exclaimed.

Color filled Sam's cheeks. "Yeah, I was pre-law. That was another lifetime.":

"Dude, that's amazing! All I did was attend some horribly preppy private school and learn how to take a bunch of photographs," you laughed.

"That's something I was never that good at. Theatre and debate were my thing. Of course, that's one of the many things Dean laughs at. He's always been about the life, hunting, that is," Sam said, beginning to trail off in thought.

This reminded you about what Bobby had said. Like you, they had lost their mother too young to remember. They also lost their dad not too long ago. It was easy to see what Sam meant about being surrounded by pain. That was a common theme among all hunters.

"I guess having a hobby for me besides hunting is what holds onto my sanity. This life ain't easy and I know my dad wishes I wouldn't, but it's like they say, once you start, there ain't no going back. I know I'm meant to be a hunter, no matter the consequences. I think Dean feels the same way."

You hadn't even thought about it before you said it. Hunting was something you weren't willing to give up. Dean had to feel the same, you were sure. It was reassuring, but there was still an uneasy feeling in your gut. The conversation lasted another ten minutes before Sam decided to go on a burger run, knowing Dean would be hungry when he awoke. The pair of you parted and you decided to go back inside. Bobby was washing up in the kitchen.

"I need a nap." Hello to you, too.

Bobby disappeared to another side of the house, leaving you to your lonesome once more. You made your way into the living room. Dean was sprawled across, covering the couch. He was out like a light. You took a seat hesitantly in your dad's chair, still watching Dean. His mouth was parted slightly and he snored softly. His hair was a wreck, parted in every direction possible. He looked so different than he had just days ago.

You remained quiet to not wake him as you leaned near him, reaching past his head to grab your camera. The idea lingered in your mind before shaking it off. You scanned through your most recent shoots. You became so focused on the small screen that you forgot the bigger picture of the man behind it. A small groan escaped Dean's lips as he stretched his arms. He blinked a few times before his green eyes settled on you.

"What the hell's going on?" He asked. He tried sitting up, but it was becoming clear his left shoulder and leg were in pain. His breaths quickly became ragged with his chest heaving.

Hello to you as well. Hunters and their manners.

"You were napping," you responded, setting the camera on your lap.

"Why do I feel like shit?" He continued to moan and groan, voice dry. You itched to get up and help, but remained seated and resorted to tapping your foot.

"Probably cause you got your ass beat."

Dean squinted, trying to figure out if you were being sarcastic or honest. Both was typically the answer, though there was more to it.

"I mean, really, Dean, letting one measly monster throw you across the room and leave your little brother to finish the job?" You clicked your tongue thrice and shook your head.

"Alright already. I got it. I got beat. Don't rub it in." Dean closed his eyes and took a breath.

He apparently was not in the mood to play. But you figured a little bit of play might cheer the poor man up.

You lowered your voice, repeating what he said twice. "Don't rub it in. Those words don't ring a bell. In fact-"

The sound that came from Dean could have been considered a growl, but it was too broken to be anything but an annoyed scowl. "Y/N..."

"Dean," you were tempted to mock. You stood up, setting the camera aside once more. "Quit complaining."

You moved to stand at his side and after a moment, Dean turned his palm over. You took it without hesitation. His fingers intertwined yours tightly. His neck cracked as he strained to look up at you. His breathing had steadied, though his chest was still exerting extra force to breathe normally.

"Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but I do a whole lotta complaining." His mouth remained open for a moment, as if he was going to say something else and changed his mind.

"You think getting hurt gives you a pass?" You asked, your voice softening. Dean's hand tugged, the question causing an eyeroll, but you obliged, squatting down to sit on the floor. This made the two of you much closer.

He pursed his lips, clearly happier at the shorter distance. "I certainly think so."

You rested your chin on the edge of the cushion, about half of a foot away from Dean. Just as his breathing seemed normal, yours caught. You were close enough to just lean over and though your back might be uncomfortable, it would have been worth it, to press your lips against his. The look in his eyes agreed. Dean swallowed, not looking away. His thumb began to run over your knuckles. He didn't even seem to realize he was doing it.

"Dean-"

"Kiss me." His voice was but a whisper, the two words unnecessarily soft, a plead. It would be rude to not oblige in a time like this. You propped your body closer against the couch, using a hand to hold his face. You met plush, soft lips, quite the pleasant surprise from the thought of dry, cracked expectations after the day he had. The kiss lingered for a few moments, nothing more than the two of you together.

You pulled away. Heart hammering in your chest, you were startled with the scary fact that you cared for Dean. He was not another one night stand. He was not a friend or your father's. He was not a hunter. He was so much more than all of those.

"Wait," Dean said, reaching for my hand again. Urgeny filled his eyes and color darkened the freckles on his cheeks. "Don't go."

"Who said I was going anywhere, sugar?" Your use of the nickname he told you to call him the night you first met, some joke about being sweet, brought a hint of a smile to Dean's face.

"Good," he huffed.

"As much as I agree what we're doing would be a fun way to pass the time, I actually want to hear how you're doing. Do you need some Advil or more pillows or something?" You asked.

A crooked grin filled his face. This was the first time he had looked at ease since arriving a couple of hours ago. Maybe there was some hope, after all.

- 

Wattpad/Pinterest: writerfangirlbooks

Tags: @akshi8278​ 

#supernatural #supernatural dean #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom #SPN #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spnfandom #spn dean #dean #dean winchester #winchesters #the winchesters #winchester boys #winchester brothers #bobby singer #dean x reader #dean x y/n

[retphienix]

It's been 6 years :)

On March 30th, 2015 I decided I wanted a gaming side blog. (so we're early, but shush, it's the month for me)

I didn't know what I'd use it for exactly, but I had ideas- something I always have even if most of them only get as far as daydreamin' or writing out before closing them :P

For proof on the lack of direction the blog initially had- the March 30th date is the anniversary of my first post, an in-depth and lengthy review of Dragon Warrior Monsters for the GBC.

If you know the blog then you know "Extremely long and in-depth reviews" aren't the norm around here. As a matter of fact, that first post is the ONLY one I've done!

The closest I've come to ever repeating that would be the (word of the day) Directionless video I put out on Hades to get a grip on the concept of making videos, but that wasn't nearly as much of a 'review' as that first post is.

Tangent, definitely planning on trying my hand at videos some more for the foreseeable future. Probably not gonna use the tagline Full Impressions that I tossed as a whim for the Hades video but yeah- I'm excited to try my hand at a few videos :) tangent over.

It didn't take me long to come up with what I'd like to do for the blog though :)

A few months later I liveblogged a challenge run of FFT where I used only Ramza- a solo run. - Which maybe only happened because I tried a nuzlocke run a year prior on my main account-

(Nuzlocke | FFT challenge run)

Thanks to that haphazard liveblog experiment I started to realize a couple things which became the primary motivators behind this blog.

1) I LOVE sharing experiences. No brainer, I'm sure, but being able to share my experiences, and compare them with others' experiences, and just that mutual sharing is uplifting and feels good to do.

2) Liveblogging is an EXCEPTIONAL motivator to buckle down and play all those games I said I'd play (cue everyone laughing because I'm still way behind and have an immeasurable backlog).

But I mean that, on both respects. I have plenty of motivators toward the blog today, but if I were to be concise it's pretty much "It's easier to beat games if I liveblog them- otherwise I get distracted and play other games" and "I love sharing experiences and thoughts with people about my favorite thing- games."

Since 2015 I've tackled around 70 games as full playthroughs, and an untold ton as one offs or just to ramble about for a bit.

I've had a lot of highlights over the years, and I don't talk much about it as an overall experience so I thought for the anniversary I'd try to do just that. Not everything- I can't say I have photographic memory that would bring all of it up without prompting after all :P But whatever comes to mind as I browse some of my old stuff- as well as some thoughts on what I'd like to see in the future.

It's gonna be a bit self-centric I assume as I type this preamble to it, so let me say outright that this blog wouldn't be half of what it is without all the people who've given it the time of day over the years.

From recommending games they love or appreciate, to comparing thoughts, to offering kind words for analysis I've done over the years, to pointing out when I'm dumb and misread a situation :P- to, yes, even the people who decided "Fuck this guy's ramble" and deleted my captions before reblogging my gifs way back during Hamtaro (Of COURSE I remember that! It's amusing lol).

This is better because of others, because of the interactions and the people I've gotten the chance to chat with or befriend. It's just a liveblog more or less, my own little bit of fun I toss out for myself if for anyone- so seeing others enjoy this or that from the work I put into sharing my experiences or thoughts is always a joy in itself :)

Anyway, onto selfishly rambling about some tidbits of the past :)

Also sorry but no, opted to not shove a ton of photos in, it does have a handful of links to old posts though :P

This'll be disorganized as heck as I'll add to it over time before I feel it's worth posting (or the tumblr post editor becomes a hassle and more or less forces me to).

First~

FFT Solo Ramza Challenge: Considering it was roughly the first thing this blog has done, it's also something that's stuck in my head a lot more clearly than most of the other stuff I've done to be honest lol.

In truth, this is partially because FFT is my favorite game, bar none. But it's also because the whole experience was pretty new to me. Prior to it I had really only done one self-imposed-challenge that wasn't requested by the game in some manner and that was a nuzlocke run of Blue version.

So adding a challenge to my favorite game was a fantastic experience!

Notes I just wanted to say today about that run: If anyone enjoys FFT I honestly recommend giving it a shot for the unique story it lends itself to. I do recommend skipping the rules until after the second battle but that's up to YOU to decide.

My first post on the subject is me complaining about spending 4 hours grinding out the second fight and, despite hyperbole being my natural state, that was NOT hyperbole.

It DID take 60~ restarts to beat. It DID take 4 hours. The reason is that that 2nd battle is RNG as HECK, you HAVE to have Delita do some meaningful actions, you HAVE to have the enemies miss and make poor plays, you damn near HAVE to crit a few instances to save yourself from taking too much damage.

It's a numbers game to the extreme, so I wouldn't fault anyone for 'cheating' and skipping the 2nd fight for the ruleset lol.

The memory that stands out the most for that run is actually isolated in a post in which Ramza (Purrick in this run) talks like a total badass as just ONE DUDE running into a room full of enemies. I just think on that as a great encapsulated view of what it was like. The run started off face grindingly difficult, but because FFT is a game that offers so much freedom to the player it was extremely easy to 'break' the game into making Purrick overpowered as hell.

That's something I love about some tactical RPGs, I love having the ability to play smart so that I can play stupid later on, and breaking the game into making him one shot god is certainly a good payoff for playing smart early on :P

RetQuick: I miss RetQuick, it was primarily a short experiment I did in 2015 where I'd play a game for a short span of time (REALLY short, like 10-20 minutes) and record that for the purpose of making gifs and saying a short piece on what I thought.

It's one of those formats where the purpose was pretty shallow- but had a reason. I wanted to try making some gifs with some tools that existed online, so I made an excuse to do just that.

I also wanted to play a TON of games, usually through emulation on my sister's PSP, and this let me do that.

These two minor goals came together and so I spent a while making RetQuicks which were honestly more fun to make than they had any right to be. I mean the gifs were tedious but the playing? The thought sharing? The end product ocassionally having more appeal than just a photoset? It was fun.

I'm thinking whenever I have trouble picking a game for the blog I'll revisit the format... sorta.

I already reused it for a short stint to show clips I had no plan on expanding into a playthrough, but that died as well as it was too similar to Tidbits posts (another tag I no longer really use).

My thought is to rebrand retquick as something of a tryout for what game comes next. Play a handful of my backlog games for an hour or so each and say some thoughts before saying which one I'll continue as the main game for that period of time.

Old Tag Stuff: One of those things that only sticks to me since I made the decisions but it's always funny for me to look back on my old posts because I was apprehensive as hell toward making my posts visible. The reason my early playthroughs on the My-Tags page are variants of Ret instead of just "The name of the game so people can find this post" is because I felt like a liveblog would just spam the tag to hell-

Something I don't remotely feel bad for doing anymore.

So I avoided getting any sort of spotlight for quite a while on the blog for little reason.

Why Retphienix?: This is just a dumb thought I wanted to share and I'm sure I've said before.

It stands for retro!

Yeah!

Ain't that dumb and also not a real shorthand? lol

I think I have some sort of deer in headlights anxiety towards naming things, I mean do you think I think Full Impressions is a good summation for a video? I don't. But perhaps that's overshadowed by the other inexperiences and anxiety driven decisions that had- doesn't matter.

Retphienix is Retphienix because I sat there in 2015 and thought "Well... what do I name an alt account?"

My main is Redphienix, which yes, is ALSO a terrible name AND is misspelled. But it's that because of sentimental reasons. As a kid I misspelled Redphoenix when making my gamertag (I knew how to spell Phoenix back then as well, I was too excited about xbox live and misspelled it) and it's become something of a sentimental misspelling.

So I wanted to make a mix on that for my game blog, but I had no idea what. In the end I thought "RetroPhienix? I don't know. Retphienix is closer to Redphienix. I'll do that" and so it was done.

And just like how Redphienix is both bad and misspelled but exists because of sentimental reasons- Retphienix has acquired the same 'flavor' in my eye lol.

Aspirations for the blog: I have no immediate ramp up plans or road map or whatever, and in truth I'll be happy if the blog stays just as it is forever- up until tumblr ends- I cry over lost posts- and I reopen it on another platform.

But I do have blurry half-considered daydreams that I'd like to see happen for the blog through some hard work or shifts on my part.

One is something I'm already doing kinda, hence my embarrassing means of bringing it up a lot lately. Videos- I want those. I wanna make some looks back on series people don't talk about that I enjoy, I want to make videos sharing my thoughts on games I beat for the blog (like what full impressions kinda was, but I don't think they'll have a unified name from here on out). Maybe retrospectives, but mostly when I think of making a video tied to retphienix or me in general it's me looking at a game that said something to me, and saying it louder with my own interpretations on it.

You know the kind, videos where they talk about a video game but not the whole thing- just a singular message they really heard loud and clear from it intentionally or not. I dig those and I know I end a lot of games having plenty to say that could be directed into such a format.

We'll see.

And I'm along for the ride on that one as well- currently I'm keeping my eyes on whatever is directly next, which happens to be "I plan on playing Omori, if it clicks as something to talk about I would like to take a shot at that in a video too!"

The other is that I'd like to build a small community. Wouldn't know the first thing on doing that in a modern sense, but just a little online friend group to chat with and play games together. Something that could open up multiplayer and coop experiences being better shared on the blog and would just in general expand my gaming to what it used to be back on the 360 when I had a large group to play with.

Since the 360 era ended I've pretty much closed off- stopped playing competitive games due to lack of interest- and slowed down to playing all games either solo, with randoms (and no mic usually), or with my cousin. It's a rare instance when I play with some good people like @gamesception or another friend of mine, John.

When I diverted from playing competitive games nonstop toward other genres I didn't intend to also cut out all my online gaming buds, it just kinda happened, and I never really put any effort into rectifying that.

So more or less I'd like to one day sit down and work on a discord server, and then buck up and put the leg work in to make some gamin' buds again, but that's such a vague concept anymore.

Sounds all sad and what not but it's more ambivalent, I made decisions that

changed how gaming worked for me after the 360 and this is just where it landed for better and worse- I'd just like to see if I can make it a little better :P

General things I think when I think retphienix: Honestly? I think of how much fun I've had over the years and how thankful I am to have had an outlet that encouraged me to explore more of the medium.

I REALLY love games. I went to college for games, I've written LEAGUES about games, I've played countless games, my childhood was games, my adult life is games- games games games yada yada yada.

So when I think of retphienix I think of how without it I probably wouldn't have explored a lot of the corners of gaming that I have.

I genuinely, and I mean this, might not have sat down and beaten FF7 for myself and would have considered the amount I played as a kid to be enough.

I might not have played Chrono Trigger yet, and I KNOW I wouldn't have played Chrono Cross, and I'm happy as hell to have played both of those. CT was a mind blowing moment for me that showed me just how good an RPG can be, and CC gave me miles to think of in terms of innovating an RPG and how beholden to the narrative a sequel should be (I don't feel CC should have been chrono at all lol).

I DEFINITELY wouldn't have given New Vegas another chance. And I know I'm a sourpuss on NV, I've been that way since I maxed my achievements on the 360 for it, but replaying it really did reveal to me how exceedingly negative I was being.

My memories had become "It's brown and a boring location >:(" and "The factions all suck and it doesn't do anything with the idea of bad factions >:(" and became "It's... a little brown guys, not a big fan of the area" and "They didn't do enough with exploring the gray factions" while adding "Wait. This is pretty damn fun. And 90% of the additions are stellar. And I forgot about Dead Money, my favorite dlc in any game ever with a story that tears at my heart every time I think of it, NV good actually?"

Faxanadu would have remained a cool game I saw on SSFF and not a game I played to the end and fell in love with the aesthetic feel it has!

Also that's a game I cheated like crazy on lol, I would do it again! Save state scumming games meant to be rudely difficult is only fair :P

I probably would have never sat down to play through Windwaker which was such a positive and uplifting experience that I now get the most relaxed and warm feeling in my heart when I see those blue waves.

There's so many experiences I would have left on the table in favor of like... putting more hours into a live service title or something.

Maybe, and no offense to my cousin or anyone else playing it, but maybe I'd be no-lifing World of Warcraft nonstop just stagnating my interest toward the skinner box mechanics of an MMO?

Some offense, actually but lightheartedly lol.

But beyond the entire games I've played for the blog, when I think retphienix I picture all the time making gifs, all those games I played on the PSP for short stints, buying a retron 5 to add to what I could explore and being stoked when they shipped a freebie box of old controllers to go with it, getting angry at the retron for being a Piece Of Shit lol, crying at the end of damn near every game with an emotional story because I'm a big emotional mess of a person who finds investing and crying at a story way too easy thanks to empathy pulls, oh!-

Getting excited whenever I found that I had a "*controversial*" opinion that no one would care about lol. Like the one that comes to mind is that I thoroughly believe that Dragon Ball Z II: Gekishin Freeza!! for the NES is WAY better than the fandom recognized and appreciated sequel/remake Dragon Ball Z: Legend of the Super Saiyan!

How many people do you hear talking about either game, let alone saying the NES game that is roughly half of the SNES remake is the better one :P But I stand by that! The SNES one is a remake of DBZ1 and 2 for the NES but it loses all the charm and some of the fun of the NES ones by being a lackluster SNES game!

lol

I admitted wholeheartedly that this post would be a lit-

little directionless (gotta love the new tumblr poster making me break sentences like that), but to sum things up.

It's been 6 years. It's been an untold amount of work to be honest- liveblogging a game, at least for me, hasn't been the easiest thing. It's a lot of thinking out my thoughts (heh), it's a lot of learning tools to make the capturing process possible, it's a lot of experimenting, it's a lot of writing and editing, and, well, sometimes it's just tough.

I mean I went to school for coding, not video editing, not writing, not image processing, not this or that- but this hobby has introduced a lot of things even if only at a VERY base level (I admit fully to using online alternatives to make gifs for instance).

I learned a lot about, well, a lot of things in order to use this blog to learn more about games- and all that work has become part of why I've loved all 6 years of this blog.

6 years of gaming, work, and you all- and it's been worth the investment :) Here's to many more and all of you whether you stumble upon this post or not- literally anyone who's interacted in these 6 years, thank you, and anyone who hasn't I offer you well wishes as well.

<3

#Retphienix #gaming #video games #gaming liveblog

[popculturebuffet]

Mickey Mouse Birthday Shortstravaganza!

It’s Mickey and Minnie’s Birthday! It was 92 Years Ago Today everyone’s faviorite mouse came in on a tide of whistling, romance and animal abuse and swept into America’s hearts and wallets. Okay I am a day late on this, I had a busy day, but hey a belated celebratoin’s still good right? Right? Eh i’m doing it anyway.   Anyway since then he’s been one of animations most iconic characters, and while out of the classic power trio I vastly prefer donald and goofy, they still woudln’t be around without Disney’s big cheese and having not seen a ton of Mickey’s shorts, I felt I owed it to the big eared one to take a look at a bunch of his shorts for his birthday and see how I liked em. If your curious about my previous Donald Duck marathon, it’s CLICK THIS LINK.  Unlike last time all of these shorts are on Disney+ as more of Mickey’s library is on there and one or two of these were added recently, as Disney tends to add a few a month. I do wish there were more on there.. but unlike with say the handful of shows they haven’t put on there, i’m a bit more forgiving here. For one thing, YouTube has all the shorts available from various uploaders and DIsney hasn’t touched them despite Plus’ launch. Given like most companies Disney usually has their bots a cirlcing for their content, this has to be delebrate on there part and it’s a good gesture from the company. So while not in crisp HD like the Plus copies, or as easily avaliable, you can find any short that’s happened. So the shorts not all being up at once isn’t an issue like most of the shows that are absent on Plus. 

They also heavily need to cherry pick their library as some shorts simply haven’t aged well or have offensive stuff. With the exception of “The Beach Picnic”, which has a racist caricature of native americans via ants.. yes really, most of the shorts are fine to show kids, and have aged pretty well. And as my last marathon showed some shorts.. just haven’t. While not you know racist, seriously why is the Beach Picnic on there?, “Donald’s Penguin”, while utterly adorable at first, ends with Donald trying to murder a baby penguin with a shot gun. No amount of content warnings is going to get past one of their beloved icons pointing a shotgun at a baby. While Disney’s self conciousness can be silly, the splash edit and not putting the Darkwing Duck episode “Hot Spells” on plus for instance, this is one time when I can agree with them: if someone is curious about a paticuarlly offensive short or a propoganda one, youtube exists. But given Plus is trying to be all ages and dosen’t have censoring they have to be careful what they put on there, and I can respect that. I don’t think anyone’s crying a river over the fact that the goofy short where his reflection keeps saying “Hey Fat”, over and over while he struggles with his weight isn’t on Disney Plus and thankfully never will be. But seriously get rid of the “Beach Picnic”. It’s not a good short and you already have one batch of native american stereotypes with “Peter Pan”, I don’t think racist ants are the hill you want to die on disney.

So yeah, this time all of these are from Disney Plus, and since I watched them all at once, their in Watch order rather than chronological like last time. So with all that out of the way...

After the cut

1. Steamboat Willie (1928): It’s All Fun and Games Until Mickey Strangles an Innocent Duck Starting from the obvious source, Steamboat Willie was the start of Mickey’s career. And it’s.. okay. The animation is fantastic and the first half is pretty good: Theirs a pretty good gag with one of the cows. But the finale, with Mickey abusing various animals just isn’t that funny A LITTLE rattling of an animal for comedy is fine.. but the things Mickey does here are just sociopathic> And yes I know it was the 1920′s, but even in that lawless, racist, sexist time, they knew better than to strangle a duck, or, in the moment that puts it over the top, remove suckling pigs fromt heir mom and then play a pig’s teats like an insturment to make it squeal musically.. I assure you I did not make this up. That actually happens.  The pacing is also fairly slow at points, with some gags dragged out, though that can be chalked up to having no way to edit the damn thing, so that part I can forgive more.  What makes up for it, like I said, are some good jokes, and some gorgeous animation. Decades later and while clearly made a long time ago, it still looks vibrant and really pops even in black and white. It shows just how talented Disney was and how far the company could go with this medium.  One last thing to note is Mickey’s Early personality. While he’d retain trickster aspects at times, here he bounces between the loveable jolly mouse we’d come to know for the rest of his career who sometimes has a wild streak.. and a total asshole who strangles a duck. It’s just intresting to see such a diffrent side of him,  most of which would end up going to Donald over time. Overall the short is decent, not the best of Disney’s catalogue but worth a watch for the historical significance despite it’s shortcomings, pun unintended. 

2. Thru the Mirror (1936): That Was a Weird One This was easily my favorite of the bunch and as of now, my favorite Mickey Mouse Theatrical Short. Part of it is that it’s entirely bonkers; The film STARTS with Mickey , sound asleep, some how astral projecting as his soul, his spirit or whatever lead shis body and having been reading Alice Thorugh the Looking Glass, goes into a mirror world. But instead of encountring evil goatee mickey, he encounters a bunch of living objects and a bunch of fun set pieces for jokes ensue. He dances with playing cards, fights an army of them, has a sword fight with the king after dancing with the queen which.. no Mickey, bad mickey, your in a relationship and so is she. Bad Mouse bad. It is entirely fucking insane, even including a living nut cracker which.. words can’t.. look

They.. they had to know how this looked right? did the director have a ball busting fetish? I mean okay if he did, nothing wrong with that, but maybe don’t put it in your children’s cartoon.  That being said it does eat the shells which I find creative. And that’s what really makes this one pop. The creativity. Not a single minute is boring, every minute has something intresting going on, but without throwing too muchi n your face. It’s just a wonderful short and one that like Mr. Duck Steps out, i’ll be rewatching a LOTTTT. 

3. Mickey’s Rival (1936): Mortimer: The Original Bro From the same year we have disappointment. Having grown up with the disney classic House of Mouse, I was a huge fan of Mortimer. So when I first saw this, I was happy to see where he came from.. then justifably blocked it out of my mind till this review. While I love mortimer, I love Mickey having a sleazy rival and one diffrent than Pete who has different goals and tactics than the big guy. But his debut just has him as an obnoxious snickering bro.. which to be fair is who he is, but without the venre of charm his later version would have.  Mortimer just spends the short being a pranking douche, and blatantly hitting on Minnie in front of Mickey while their on a date. Which even in an open relationship is a no no, so he has no leg to stand on.. metaphorically. He also walks weird in this one because, and this is true, he’s carying 9 volt batteries in his pants. Yes really. That’s the level of Douche we’re dealing with. Someone so up their own ass they carry batteries int heir pocket instead of money or a mask or children’s trading cards like a normal person or a me.  What makes it frustrating is Minnie just swoons over the guy. And not like “Awww he’s so funny”, I mean romantically then has the gaul to say “your just jealous” when Mickey is understandably fuming over the jackass who swooped in, pranked him, is hitting on his girlfriend in front of him by teasing a bull, and in general is just the worst. Yes.. yes he is. Justifably. Jealousy is an ugly emotion but there’s a line between some dude bro like Mortimer getting mad your friends with someone you could be in a relationship with, boy, girl, neither, both, whatever your into, and Mickey getting mad his girlfriend is chuckling all over her ex who agian, crashed their date and treated him like garbage and is very transparently hitting on her in the middle of it.  It’s also just not a very funny short, outside of the bit pictured and tha’ts more for the sheer aburdity of Mortimer elctifying his pant for a really dumb gag about stealing people’s pants button. He’s very lucky we didn’t see Mickey’s Epic Mickey is what i’m saying. But given he’s a frat bro, the 1930′s version granted but a bro nonetheless,  he’d probably find that hilarious until he noticed the sheer size and scope.  Overall a forgetable, frustrating short. The one bright spot is mickey and mortimer’s cars which have faces and stuff and look neat.. otherwise it was just a waste of my time and the only good thing it did was bringing Mortimer into our lives. And that ain’t nothing. 

4. Mickey Down Under (1948): ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

This is a quick one.. because this one was a vacum. I mean I can at least say for Mickey’s Rival it’s interesting.. i’ts not good but it’s interesting. this is just.. Mickey farts around with a boomerang with his dog and then pisses off an ostrich. There’s not really a lot of consequence or intrest is what i’m saying. I can’t even find a good opening to make a letterkenny joke. No one got close to fucking an ostrich here. It’s telling by the fact theirs no gif’s of this one that no one cares and it baffles me this is one of the ones Disney chose to gussy up for D+ release. But still no donald messing around with a robot? 

5. The Band Concert (1935): That’s More Like It.  Okay scooting back a year we have the band concert. This is my third time watching this one and it’s a delight. Like the last one I don’t have a ton to say.. but it’s more because this one is just so good rather than because it wasted my time. It’s got a fun concept and the breakout performance from my boy donald duck as he constantly fucks with the band’s performance by either getting in their faces or hilariously pulling Flute’s out of thin heir. I miss that gimmick for donald, his love of pulling objects out of the either via magic and shenanigans. They should bring it back. Also his shenanigans remind me of opus and that’s never a bad thing. 

Also Horace takes off his shirt. For the Ladies. A Classic for good reason. 

6. On Ice (1935): Donald is a Bastard Man Another great one from the same year. This time around we have what i’ve come to call a Mickey and the Gang Messaround. This is back when Donald and Goofy were supporting characters, so generally each of the big three do something, usually coming together for the climax.  In this case Mickey tries to help Minnie with her skating, with him adorably following her around with a pillow before showing off for her, just really sweet stuff. Goofy’s bit is hilariously dumb, as fitting my boy, as he feeds fish tobaco to get them to spit into a spitoon, and tries to club them, with predictable results. While not the most enivrionmentally friendly just the sheer oddness, the fact it sort of works minus him actually clubbing them, and one of hte fish smacking him in the face all make it work.  The only bit that reallyd osen’t is Donald and pluto... it was present a bit before but here illustrates why I really dread Pluto based shorts. While I don’t hate the dog, he’s a dog I love dogs, most of the gags in his old shorts, and even up to mouseworks are him either being blamed for shit that’s not his fault, a pet peve of mine, or being tourtured in some way...

But dosen’t work at all now. He puts the poor dog on skates and then laughs at him and even sings a song mocking the poor dog, before justifably nearly ending up going over a watterfall, then ending up clubbed in the head. Good. I love donald but good god is he unsympathetic here.. and for some reason they teamed the two up again for more shorts! Why. It’s why I don’t get why Pluto was the star of his own shorts: if this is all they had.. why do it? Was the 30′s, 40′s and 50′s equilvent of a micheal bay audience really that into dog abuse?  So yeah otherwise a good short but that segment drags it down. not Donald’s best work. 

7. Clock Cleaners(1937): This is a Great One Not much to say on this one. It’s pretty good, has some fun set pieces, and some great jokes from all three characters. Mickey deals with a seagull, donald effs with a main spring and Goofy fights some statues. All good clean fun. My lack of brevity is more because I don’t have any jokes rather than this genuinely being bad. It’s pretty good. 

8.. Mickey and the Seal(1948): More Pluto Torture Porn! 

This one’s more of a mixed bag. On the one hand, it is really cute, as a young seal ends up going home with mickey after he visits the zoo to feed them fish. On the other hand.. it’s mostly Pluto chasing after the seal, Mickey being kind of a dick to pluto and not getting he clearly saw SOMETHING in his house, and then teasing him at the end despite him having been right. That being said the ending, with the seal brining back all it’s buddies to mickey’s house, is fricking amazing. ALso the seals in this unvierse who aren’t antrho can speak. That.. that raises a lot of questions I don’t think disney can answer. 

9. Ye Olden Days (1933): Jaunty Dueling Music Now this.. this was a fun one. Mickey and Minnie head to Medivil times, proving that the current shorts tendency to jaunt to various settings isn’t a new thing, and it’ sjust a much of a fun change up here as it was there. Mickey, a wondering minstral, ends up trying to rescue Minnie after her father throws her in a dungeon for not wanting to marry Prince Dippy Dog, who hopes she can learn to love him. I can’t tell if he’s genuine or a dick here. But it’s fun, especially the part where, after Minnie declares she loves mickey which.. it’s been a few hours slow down, they decide on a duel and thus sing some ragtime, 1930′s getting ready for duel music that’s just catchy. if X Of Swords ever gets a movie, I want to use this song. Just.. really good stuff. A fun short with some great gag,s a great concept, and my boy goofy as the villian. What’s not to like? Alright one more. 

10. MIckey’s BIrthday Party (1942): Big Chicken Breasts We end on another all together now, Mickey and the Gang Messaround that was a great note to end on. I did watch another short, Pluto’s Birthday party.. but it was both more of a Pluto short and more Pluto torture nonsense, so yeah, skipping that one, as I ended up one short of my 12 goal because I can’t count, apparently. So Mickey gets 10, but this one’s a good note to go out on. 

Minnie throws a suprise party for mickey which almost turns into a live sex celebration as Mickey clearly is a wee bit horny going in. But it turns into a fun dance party, with Donald throwing out razzes like a good buddy, Goofy making a cake, and some fun gags with a piano they all bought him. It’s a really good short. That’s the problem with Mickey Shorts and doing all D+ ones: There just isn’t the weirdly offensive stuff to talk about there is. He’s not a bad character, but there’s a reason in every short that features all three, Donald and Goofy easily outshine him. Mickey’s not a bad character, but when not in trickster mode, there just isn’t a lot for him to do. It’s why the comics reinvented him, much like they did for donald, into a plucky detective/reporter who reguarly sovles crimes. He’s not bad, and as seen with Ye Olden Days and Thru the Miror, his blank slateness cna be put to good effect and house of mouse gave him more of a personality, but here he’s just the bland good guy to Donald’s loveable scmap and goofy’s loveable dumbass. It’s an issue comedy has to this day: having a lead whose just.. not as intresting as the rest of the ensemble.  There is weirdness to note, as Donald dances with Clara Cluck> That’s not the weird part, he and daisy took a while to be etched in stone. The weird parts are 1. Donald wearing a sombrero and smoking a cigar, and 2. Clara’s MASSIVE boobs.. yes really. Clara Cuck has giant breasts. Like actual boobs that sway around while she dances with donald. it’s.. bizzare. Not terrible, who doesn’t like big chicken boobs but just.. really really weird to see ina  Disney cartoon.But yeah it’s jus ta fun note to end on. 

And that was MIckey’s Birthday special. I enjoyed it even if I had less to say than I thought. If you liked this review, you can comission your own for five bucks, just hit up my pms or my discord , avaliable on request. You can check out my ohter disney reviews in the disney tab on my blog and until next time, ther’es always another rainbow. 

#mickey mouse #minnie mouse #donald duck #goofy goof #clara cluck #hoarace horsecollar #clarabelle cow #mortimer mouse #mickey's birthday #classic disney shorts

[werezmastarbucks]

Whitmore guy - the boy in a shirt with a bat

Part One

Part Two

Kai Parker x fem!Reader slowburn

whatever gifs I’m going to use on this one, I hope the creators are okay with that

The Mystic Falls team decide they want to get rid of Kai Parker for good - and in a way that would ensure he won’t be able to come back. Death is not secure enough this time, so they go with Malivore. Who knows what the poor bastard is doing down there, but six months later, a new guy comes to work at the college - and meets the reader seemingly for the first time.

word count: 2987 ish

warnings: none

music: blink-182 - down, blink-182 - always, green day - the last of the american girls; Y/N quotes don’t leave me by - you guessed it - blink-182

MAY

Y/N was almost done. Almost-almost done, and the clock was only showing half past seven. It’s still half an hour until full sunset, and she has every chance to wrap it up and go rush to the football field in the town, perch herself on the seats and watch.

It’s just that all the troubles of all the Whitmore students were hanging like dead weight on her, and realistically, if she worked all day, every day, with a five hour sleep, and a twenty minutes lunch break, Christmas included, she would finish reading and delegating all student complaints and applications by the year 2098.

She threw herself back in the chair and pressed her palms against her eyes, letting the green specks poke the darkness. Then she realized that the music she’s been hearing for the last hour wasn’t playing in her head – the sound has been coming from the outside world.

Y/N opened her eyes and listened. Yup, she was sure it was her own brain because nobody’s listened to that reeeally old stuff in years. There’s just nobody left in the whole state of Virginia who’s openly a blink-182 fan.

She jumped up from her chair excitedly, happiness striking in her head like a flare gun; somebody was listening to their song! At the college! Somewhere on the floor! And it wasn’t her!

Y/N left her office and walked down the quiet corridor, following the sound like a thread. What a song it was, too.

Tidal waves they rip right through me

Tears from eyes worn cold and sad

Pick me up now…

The epic teenage angst made you want to go get all the bad tattoos you could possibly spend your money on.

Y/N knew she loved that song some time ago, but couldn’t remember why. It pulled on a surprisingly sturdy thread in her heart and made it bleed in a second; like she was a teenager again, like she was on the verge of a breakdown, and the whole world was full of amazement and bursting, vivid sensations.

Y/N almost ran to the sound, holding her lip between her teeth and never noticing it. Her face was lit with anticipation as she paused in front of the door. Somebody was playing music in the gatherings hall, where the acoustics were crazy, and all the space all but welcomed all kinds of dancing, prancing and hopping. The song ended, and another started to play; and yet she knew it again.

It went like this:

I’ve been here before a few times,

And I’m quite aware we’re dying…

 Y/N pushed the door and it gave. She saw the hall, lit by all the lamps, although she was quite sure that the maintenance had already turned everything off except her office.

A guy was crouching on the floor next to the window, and a big sports bag was lying at his feet. Weird, he looked like a schoolboy, and the next second he stood up and she saw he was a young man. The guy didn’t seem to notice her at first, so Y/N had a couple of seconds to stare at the stranger. He was all jumpy, tall, boyish in a way; his dark hair was a little messed up, as he probably ruffled it with his hands; she’s never seen him here before. Being the welfare office worker, Y/N knew pretty much everyone in this huge place, - which was scary, by the way, - but this one was probably new. She couldn’t really place him neither with students nor with the staff. So she just placed him with the good music lovers. She already liked this dude. He was wearing a grey shirt with a stupid drawing of a cartoonish bat, green blood spilling out of its mouth. And Converses. Again, who still wears Converses in Whitmore or Mystic Falls?

He looked up, watching her for a second, and then waved his hand. They couldn’t really hear each other over the music, but the guy still said something. Y/N motioned towards his portable speaker which was spitting out the fast chords and energetic drumming. That was the best. That was the best song in the world, and she was almost sorry when the bat guy ran towards the speaker and turned the volume down.

“Hey- woah, I didn’t realize there was somebody alive here!” he exclaimed.

“Are you having a party?” she asked instead of a hello. They stared at each other for a mere second before letting out the air from their lungs.

“Does that bother you?”

“No way. I was drawn here like a rat by a flute. Man, I haven’t heard Blink on speakers or even on the radio, for ages”.

He smiled, and Y/N melted. The guy was approaching her slowly, walking like he owned the place. His smile was white, and his eyes, in contrast, seemed completely black, but, as he came closer, she saw they were dark blue. It’s just his pupils - so enlarged they covered almost everything, trying to devour his eye. He sure looked like he was high.

Something hit her, and backed off immediately. There was something about him, something weird, outlandish, not Mystic Falls at all, neither Whitmore, but hey. Everything in the closest vicinity of Mystic Falls is completely consumed by its spores. Everything was Mystic Falls color, the people, the nature, and the college; people spoke, walked and loved in such a way that you could tell they all come from the same place, full of scandals and vampires.

This dude, though. He looked a bit mad, Y/N reckoned, his wide smile never touched his dark eyes, and they shone with something that made her look just a little too long. He smelled like trouble. After all these years she’s been rubbing elbows with all kinds of bad, Y/N could tell who’s what. She could tell a beast when she met one. Vampires looked different to her, call it intuition or habit.

But this dude… he just looked different. He was like ink, like milk, like blood. His face looked perfect all-American beautiful, with lean triangle chin and strong jaw line. And yet, it was crooked somehow. He looked youthful, but the look about him said old. The fact that he was keeping silent a second too long, was standing an inch too close, looking at her too closely, all said trouble. It was blinding how quick she felt all that, in a flash, and against all odds, she smiled.

She didn’t know what he was.

“Ha, you’re staring”, he said, amused.

“Dude, I’m trying to remember if I’d seen you before”.

His sharp eyebrows, like two eagle wings, were drawn together in mocking concentration.

“Well. Have you?” There was an inviting smirk on his lips, showcasing two things: he had a very nice mouth. And. There was a reason enough to keep distance.

“No. I have excellent memory for faces”.

He shrugged like nothing in his easy, carefree life, mattered.

“Yeah, me neither. This is the first time my eyes are on you”.

“Wow”, she nodded, “you’re weird enough”.

“I’ve been said that”.

“How dangerous are you?”

“Uhm…” he pretended to ponder, poking his chin with his right index finger. Y/N saw a large steel ring on it, with a pretty, strange scattering of tiny dark dots. A very unusual marking, too, but she said nothing. He had a face of a TV star. She could very well picture him in a sitcom with a lame title like “My crazy family”, in which he would be the geeky, but sexy, smart oldest son of a little bit absent-minded parents.

“Like… eight out of fourteen. I’ve been to a camp once… it was a type of… you know, like a summer camp?”

Y/N found she had to actually focus to follow his thought. She looked straight at him attentively, feeling bright magenta giggle rising inside of her.

“Uh-huh. The Crystal Lake type? Or the Sleepaway Camp?”

“Get out!” he exclaimed, stretching his vowels. They laughed exactly at the moment for Billie Joe to yell about the Last of the American Girls.

“No, more like a concentration camp”, he offered, “but like, you’re alone there, so you have to do all the torturing yourself”.

“God’s sake, what kind of camp was it?”

“I literally just told you”, he replied with a pause, and his articulate face went blank. Y/N couldn’t hold off a sniff. She felt like she was a bit drunk, but that was more of overworking, late evening, lots of coffee and that everlasting feeling of despair one gets upon realizing that work will never end.

“Anyway, I learnt a lot of useful stuff there”, the boy said, “how to start a fire, how to make a knot, you know, the type you’re not getting out of, ever. A-and, like, how to make stakes out of sticks”.

Alert reddened Y/N skull from the inside. She tilted her head. Reading him was in vain. This dude was misty, he was shut off like a persona that’s uncrackable simply because it never really existed.

“What for?”

“Oh, you know, grilled sausages and stuff”.

She reprimanded herself silently for being a basket case. Yeah, sure. Grilled sausages, and only then – killing vampires; that’s how it works in the normal world.

“What about you?” he asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

“How dangerous are you?”

“Ow, extremely. I mean, look at me”.

She stretched out her arms, displaying herself (like a complete sellout, she thought. There goes the very first male who listens to Green Day and blink-182 and you’re already opening your ribcage for him, what a piece of work).

Diligently, the guy took a step back to get a better view. It was all very comical, with a very characteristic soundtrack.

“I am really looking, and I have thoughts. What exactly do you mean?”

“Small. Disproportional limbs. Frail muscles. Do you see? Very angry as a result. Very angry all my life. So, very dangerous”.

He smiled joyfully, wide, bright sparkles exploding in the dark of his eyes.

“I got it. Not gonna piss you off. Actually, I guess, since I’m new here, I should bond with the strong ones, right? I’ll be working as your computer guy. You need something fixed, so that you owe me a favor and don’t kill me when you get mad?”

Y/N scratched her temple, thinking if she needed anything in her laptop fixed. Ridiculously, there was something.

“Funny you should ask. I have the stupidest problem… I… what’s your name again?”

“Oh, my manners”, the guy sighed gravely, and outstretched his hand, “Mal. And you..?”

She considered his palm for a second before shaking it. A light buzz stung her which she barely noticed. Mal’s shirt was probably all synthetic fabric. She told him her name, and he gave a nod.

“Are you really an IT guy?”

“Why would I lie?” he asked, puzzled. He pointed behind his back, turning a little:

“You see that wall? I’m tearing out the old wiring right now. That’s why I’m here so late. Tomorrow you’re gonna have new wi-fi, with the dopest name and the password you’ll never guess”.

Y/N could instantly think of a thousand passwords that were puns for punk rock songs’ names. She abstained from vocalizing them all immediately.

“Alright then”.

“What stupid problem are you having? Have you tried to…” his eyebrows moved suggestively, like he was about to say something R-rated. “…you know?”

“Nah, it’s with the browser. The default search engine is Yahoo for some reason, and I hate Yahoo with burning passion… I’ve no idea how to make it Google again”.

“Are you for real?”

“Yeah. I’m the college sociologist, not a bloody programmer”.

Mal couldn’t help laughing. He headed for the doors, hopping a little in the rhythm of the song.

“Perhaps I made a mistake in detecting you as one of the leaders of this pride”, he mumbled, “where’s your office? You’re the sociologist here?”

Y/N followed him into the corridor.

“Yup”.

“What exactly does it mean?”

“If they need somebody to listen to how they’re closeted gays, I listen. If they need me to fill out the forms for their loans, I fill them out. If teachers had a party the night before and can’t come in now because they’re hungover, I come in instead and take their classes. If…”

“Gee, how much do they pay you for that?”

Y/N felt her face move, all parts of it separately. Just thinking about it was unnerving. But that’s the job she asked for. That’s the responsibility she’d grown into. She’d been a teacher herself for some time, and then got tired of the creative pressure of coming up with the new ways of explaining one thing every day; she thought this position would bring some diversity in her everyday thinking style. She was being silly. However, when she realized she was worked up, it also brought a strange taste of satisfaction in a way that she was giving all of her, and her conscience was clear. She explained all that to Mal. Then she pushed her door and they found themselves in her darkened office. The first pink flames of raspberry sunset were trying the sky.

“Damn it”, she swore, “I’m late for sunset again”. How the fuck long did she spend in the gatherings hall?!

“You like watching it?”

“Sure. It’s like the doorframe syndrome, have you heard about it?”

Mal smiled, sprinting to her laptop that’s been waiting for her on the desk, abandoned.

“Oh yeah”, he sneered, “I was just thinking about it, but then I entered this room and forgot”.

Y/N sat in the armchair on the opposite side of her desk, thinking to herself, he’s probably gonna die really soon. Like Brandon, the last interesting dude she’d met in Mystic Falls back when she was on the haul, working at the Grill. Brandon was the best bartender the place had ever seen in its prolonged history, and he was also very clearly interested in Y/N, too. They worked together a lot, and drank at night even more. They got to know each other pretty well, which made it even worse when someone came in, in the broad daylight, and broke his neck. Just when Y/N thought that the Mystic Falls curse has been lifted and normal people could feel safe. It’s been two years, or even more, since then, and now she sat there, cynical and certain, that such a cool dude like Mal wouldn’t last here long. The place consumes people like him – those who wake up her desire to live again.

“Oh-kay, I’ll just close all this porn here”, Mal looked at the screen. Y/N has been writing a report when she heard the music, and left the document open. “You wanna Google by default?”

“Yes”.

“Come here and learn while I’m alive”, Mal said solemnly, not noticing the look she gave him, stunned at the sinister coincidence of thinking.

She circled the desk and stood at his shoulder. Mal smelled of candy (literally this time), so sweet it was almost suffocating. Did he fucking rub it in his hair?! Y/N thought of tricksters casually, the Scandinavians like Loki, whose only downfall was in that extra sweet smell of all kinds of sugar poison that gave them away. Could Mal be a malevolent spirit, luring her into a trap? What’s he gonna do? Eat her insides?

“Are you looking?”

“Yes”.

“It’s two seconds. See?”

“Oh”.

Mal turned to her in her own armchair like he owned it and looked up without a shade of awkwardness.

“You seriously didn’t know how to do that? I don’t even need to be an IT specialist to be able to fix that”.

“What are you getting at?” Y/N barked defensively. She prided herself in not understanding anything about computers, like it made her old in a wise way.

“I gotta tell you before we kick it off – I have a girlfriend”.

Y/N digested it for a second.

“Oh, you smug face”, she spat out, “you think I’m hitting on you?”

“I mean…” his innocent-wild eyes acted very well.

“I don’t know shit about this computer crap, I thank God every day I manage to even turn it on…”

“You’re cool and very nice, but…”

“I don’t hit on people”, Y/N banged herself in the chest, “people hit on me”.

Mal puffed with laughter, still looking up.

“Okay, sorry. I’ve never met anyone like you. Quiet so… helpless”.

“There. Don’t you ever assume…”

“We’re gonna be friends though, right?”

Y/N shrugged.

“Sure. Emos gotta stick together, or else we commit unspeakable things. Now, get out of my office”.

“I prefer to think of myself as a broke-free treasure hunter, thank you very much”.

Mal was smiling like a cunning happy brat as he walked out of the door. He stopped half way, catching himself on the handle. Having crossed the line of the doorframe, he must have recalled something.

“What did you say about the sunsets? And the syndrome?”

“Oh, yeah”, Y/N uttered, propping herself back at the computer. She could feel evening migraine coming, together with the song blasting and echoing from the hall down the corridor. “When I see that, you know, the bloody pink when it’s just ending, I feel like I’m remembering something I’d forgotten. It’s a weird feeling. Kind of like a déjà vu backwards. You ever had that?”

Mal blinked, thinking. Seriously, this time. Looking at him, Y/N decided, that yes, they were going to be friends. He was making her feel something. Something good about all this job, and all that was in her past. All that she thought she outgrew. He was clear, black and white, sturdy, holding on to her door like he was keeping it in place.

“You have to have your head checked, Y/N. It might be terminal…”

“Get out, Mal. Don’t let my door hit your ass”.

“Jesus, you’re really obsessed with blink-182, aren’t you?”

Y/N felt no shame.

#kai parker #kai parker x reader #kai parker imagine #vampire diaries #imagine #whitmore guy

[antichristsxbox]

Hi! I’d like to request Michael x Reader where Michael has to deal with a very drunk reader? Perhaps scare off drunken suitors? 👀

Summary: The reader and Michael are at a party, but Michael isn’t too thrilled when another guy tries to hit on you. I choose to make this a college party where both the reader and Michael are students attending a frat party. Also, warning, this is smutty! :)

From the writer: Hey, Anon! Sorry it took me so long to answer this, I was trying to think of a good setting/context for this to happen. Also, I’m sorry if there’s a few imperfections as I only proofread this a couple of times and didn’t have anybody else look it over. I was just eager for you guys to read this and I’m excited about it because I really need to practice writing smut, so let me know if you like this! If you happen to like this, check out the new fic I’m working on here! I’m planning on making it a few more chapters and some chapters will definitely contain smut. If that’s not your thing, check out my masterlist with plenty more things to read! Also, I’m sorry I couldn’t find a better gif but I love Jimmy Fallon so I think this is alright. :)

Word count: 2,125

“You can’t make me,” you say, downing another shot of Tito’s. You would much rather chase with cranberry juice, but this bar only has diet cranberry. Diet drinks have a really weird aftertaste, and mixed with alcohol, they just bring out the worst notes in each other.

Michael had been trying to get you to slow your roll, but it’s Friday night. There are only two weekend nights in the entire week, and you may as well make the most of it before it’s back to class on Monday. As you lower the glass from your lips, you see your friends heading outside to watch the game of pong. It’s always interesting to see who think they’re going to the the pong champs this week. Or, even better, when another drunk frat guy decides to jump on the folding table and make a complete fool of himself— effectively ending the game of pong when cups and booze come crashing down to the floor with him. Luckily, that hasn’t happened tonight, so far. There is always something entertaining to do— it’s always fun to watch. As you head out with your friends, Michael is now conversing with his lab partner. Both giant nerds, you must applaud them for managing to stay this sober when it’s already nearly eleven o’clock.

Pong has been going well, but somehow, you’ve ended up on a team with your girlfriends rather than being passive observers. On the opposing side, your friends from your art history class, all guys more apt to hold their alcohol than you and your friends. A ping-pong ball landed in a cup right in front of you— warm, gnatty lite makes its way down your throat. Coming up for air only after the last sip was taken, your team makes their shot. Still, you’re a few cups behind the opposing team, but you could be doing much worse.

Eventually, the game is lost to the opposing team and your friends retreat back inside with you. With the winning team quickly following, the room is now bombarded with loud shouts and whoops! from rowdy frat boys.

“Hey, Baby, what’s happening?” a guy wearing a Kappa Alpha dude-tank asks, walking in front of you and blocking you from moving any further in your tracks.

“Ugh, not you,” you say, shoving past him and making your way towards the front of the room. But, Kappa Alpha dude has another plan in mind. As you sit on the stained, alcohol-smelling couch, he follows quickly and is now sitting next to you. It takes a lot to ward off a guy like this, but it may be easier if another guy was with you for the scare factor. Reaching for your phone, you text Michael and tell him to meet you in the living room. It shouldn’t be long now.

As Michael’s eyes lock with yours, you gesture to the guy sitting next to you in an annoyed manner.

“Hey, man,” Michael says, placing a hand on the frat guy’s shoulder, “that’s my girl, you should be heading off now.”

Frat guy does not take this well. He stands, shoves Michael into the dingy lamp next to the couch, and retreats back towards his friends. Although Michael can be hotheaded at times, he decides to let this one go, as this other man is obviously very inebriated and would likely not remember this instance tomorrow. Battery and assault charges may also be harsher towards a defenseless, drunk college boy.

Making the ultimate decision to leave the party, you and Michael make your way towards the other side of campus, near his dorm. This year, he was lucky enough to have a single dorm, rather than sharing with a roommate. The walk over includes soaking in how the light hits the long Spanish moss, then a shadow is cast towards your feet. The most simple things seem to provide entertainment when you’re slightly buzzed. Slightly, since most of the alcohol has worn off at this point— a lingering, weak wash over your senses still in the back of your mind.

Without making it a few steps past Michael’s doorway, his hands already tangle in your hair and draw you in for a sloppy, faded kiss. The fruit punch of Michael’s earlier hurricane drink was lingering on his lips. Your hands snake around his waist and pull him closer. Sometimes, Michael’s protectiveness can steer you away or make you angry that he’s upset in the first place. Tonight, however, he kept his cool and was not reactive in his normal, vicious manner.

“Baby,” you drawl while unbuttoning your top and lifting his shirt. Warm skin presses together as you pull each other close again. Same old, except now you’re half-naked. Very close together, yet not the most intimate you’ve been with your beau by a long shot.

A noticeable bulge in his pants can be felt when you brush against him, still enjoying the sweet taste of his drink from earlier on your lips. Your hands make their way to his bulge and brush over his pants where it’s obvious, and he lets out a whimper as your fingertips settle just to the side of where his bulge lies, hands grabbing his hips and pulling him towards you.

Impatiently, his fingers make haste with your belt, then your pants button and zipper, until you’re standing only in your underwear. Similarly, Michael is now undoing his own pants as you make your way to his bed. Oh, he’s gotten so lucky— a full bed, no roommates, and he’s in the party dorm. Your roommate leaves tangles of hair and blobs of toothpaste in your shared sink. Michael is at such a different level, dorm-wise.

He’s finally made his way to the large bed; you’re under the covers, sinking in to his soft mattress and having soft sheets run past your legs as you wrap yourself around Michael’s waist. Hands grasp above your hips and pull you closer, his solid bulge now very present against your most sensitive area. As your hips roll forward, Michael thrusts forward, and he brushes up against you hard enough that you let out a moan and feel your pulse in your cunt. Muscles clench in your pelvis as Michael thrusts again.

The friction of fabric between you has now become annoying. Hands make their way to the band of your underwear and tug down. Freeing Michael from the constraints of his boxers, his hard cock springs up as his underwear is moved past. Warmness is the only feeling as his member brushes past your soaking pussy.

“He wouldn’t make you feel how you do like I can,” Michael says, moving back, but introducing his fingers to your wetness. They toy with your area for a minute, tracing your entrance and folds, then two are pushed inside— Michael knows one is a fairly lackluster sensation for you. He curls up, hitting your inside walls in the spot you need him most. As your moans  increase in length and volume, Michael only quickens his pace with his fingers. You could feel him curl and straighten his fingers. Your hips rolled to match his pace, but were quickly defeated as he picked up his pace in anticipation of your orgasm.

“Michael, I want you,” you say, reaching for his hand and pushing it down. Fingers are great, especially when they’re Michael’s, but you have fingers too. His cock is truly unique. You thought you would get used to him eventually, but every time with him leaves you amazed at how fresh the feeling is of taking somebody so long with so much girth. At least eight and a half inches, and so wide you could barely touch your index finger to your thumb if you wrapped your hand around him.

He shushes you, but uses his hips to press more firmly where you want him. His hands trace over your hips and eventually fall on your breasts. You sit up, tired of his teasing. Using your hands as a guide, you line him up with your entrance and shift so you could straddle his waist. Hindsight, this may not have been a great idea, seeing how tired you are.

“It’s alright, Baby,” he says, sensing how little energy you have for this, but the needing and wanting still being present. Fully letting yourself relax on him, he fills you up, not a space inside untouched by Michael. Every time you were with Michael was less and less painful. This time, there was no pain present at all— only a very full feeling.

He holds on to your hips, gently thrusting up while keeping you balanced on top of him. You love how when you’re on top of him, you can control how deep he is or not. Using your legs to bounce up and match his pace, you find a rhythm that suits the both of your tired, faded selves. At least alcohol almost never had any bearing on how Michael “performs” but this could be due to the fact that he never consumes much when he drinks anyways.

As your legs begin to give out due to tiredness, Michael senses your growing weakness and slows down so you could sit and take a break. Even without him moving, he still feels amazing to sit upon and take in. Clenching your muscles makes Michael moan and thrust forward. His hands cup your ass and push you towards him.

“Mmm, I could go so hard, so fast,” he says, using his legs to push up again.

“Do it, Michael,” you say, running your fingers through his perfect, blonde curls and staring down at his beautiful blue eyes. A small kiss is exchanged before you dismount from his lap and lay down, face-down.

He normally doesn’t opt for doggy-style. He says he likes to see your face, like to read how his movements affect you and what they make you feel— all easy to understand when looking at your face. But, he knows you like how it feels and the depth that can be achieved when you’re giving him such unrestricted access, all bent over and back arched and ass out, combined with his hard thrusts and strength he could easily bottom out in you.

“Yeah, Baby, you’re gonna fucking get it,” he says, gently grabbing your waist to guide you up while he kneels behind you. Slowly, he enters and slides in and out with caution a few times, testing to see if this felt okay with you. Your soft moans let him know that this was good, and he continued to pick up his pace. Having him coming from the back allowed you to feel him fully, a stuffed sensation as he brushes your cervix with every thrust.

Obscene slaps! fill the room as he picks up his pace even more, a new sensation added as his balls slam against your cunt— he thrusts harder and harder, the new experience being a welcome addition as it stimulates you even more. Your walls tighten after a few moments of him giving it to you like this, but he doesn’t stop or let his pace fall behind.

“Oh, Michael!” you exclaim, now-erratic clenching taking over the muscles in your cunt, squeezing Michael with all the force in your body. Your orgasm has arrived, and the feeling is welcome as you ride it out with Michael continuing to thrust into you. His own orgasm is near, you could tell due to his increased panting and thrusts becoming more sparse, but still hard.

He lets out a yelp, then grabs your legs and pulls you onto him as he thrusts forward, his tip making full contact with your cervix. This happens a few more times before he releases his load deep in your pussy, his own warmth combining with your own making your knees weak. As he slowly pulls out from you, you collapse down on the bed. In a child’s pose like position, you rest your head on his pillow with your legs curled up beneath you. You may need some real yoga tomorrow to stretch out and become less sore after this.

“He couldn’t do that,” Michael says, resting his head next to yours on the other pillow. A smug smile takes over his face as you turn to look at him, planting a soft kiss on his lips. He still has a lingering taste of the sugary hurricane drink he has consumed at the party.

“No, he could not, only you can make me come like that,” you say, pulling the sheets over your naked body, ready for a long night of sleep.

“Likewise,” Michael agrees.

///

Tag list: @langdonsoceaneyes @ms-mead @daydreamingofcody @psychobitchtess @swampwitchh13

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon smut #michael langdon alternate universe #michael langdon au #american horror story #ahs

[lovewriting-5]

Rules:

*gif credit goes to @angelshizuka*

9. Confessions

11. Breaking Free

10. Screeching Tires:

We carefully enter the house, I call “Hello! Hello? Claire? Stephen?” When there is no answer, Daniel says “Looks like grandma and grandpa haven’t come back from church yet.” Sean looks at us with a little smile, “Well. At least they won’t yell at us for going out...” He says “That was so cool to spend time with Chris at the market! Did you know Chris’ mom was an artist?”

Sean says “We...didn’t...How so?” He says “She drew comics! You guys should see her drawings, they’re so cool. Just like yours!” Sean tells him “Thanks, dude.” Daniel looks around, “Hey! Uh...” I ask, suspiciously “What? What is it?” He says “Sean, (Y/N)...I wanna go check on the room...upstairs. I know it’s mom’s. Please...”

Sean and I look at each other. I tell him “Daniel, you heard Claire. They will freak out if they know we went inside. We promised them.” “We won’t tell them! We’ll be in total stealth mode! They won’t know anything if we make it quick...” he contradicts.

He also throws in “It’s just...I really want to know what’s inside. What kind of stuff she had. Chris had tons of things that belonged to his mom. And I have nothing! Come on...You guys don’t even have to come with me...if you don’t want to...”

“Fuck it. We’ll come with you...So you don’t make a mess and get us caught.” Sean tell him. The three of us head upstairs and go straight to the locked bedroom door. Daniel tries the knob. Frustrated, he says “The door is still locked! I just...Don’t get why they lock the room. What’s the big deal?” Sean says “We’ll find a way to open it.”

Mischievously, Daniel says “This is super easy! I can just break the lock with powers!” I say “Yeah, we could do that with a hammer...” “Let’s try and find the key instead, right?” Sean says. He says “I’m just gonna clean up real quick.” As soon as he went into the bathroom, I tell Sean “Sean, I’ll keep watch while you and Daniel search for the key.”

They begin searching all around the second floor. I was starting to get a little nervous that Claire and Stephen were going to return any moment. I tell them “Hurry up! They might come back any minute!” Sean says “Yes, we know. I can’t find the fucking key! We just need five minutes.”

I was sitting at the top step, keeping an eye on the front door. After five minutes, Sean sits down next to me. Frustrated, he says “I give up. This is impossible.” He then says “DANIEL!” Daniel comes walking over to us. Sean asks “You really think you could open this door...without doing too much damage?” A smile shot across his face, he says “Yes! I know I can.”

We stand up and follow him to the door. Cautiously, I tell him “Go for it.” He says “Yes!” Sean reminds him “And don’t blow apart the whole house...” Daniel holds out his hand and uses his power. There was a blast. I holds my arms in front of my face to block it from the debris. We see the damage. Sean asks, annoyed “Really?” He says “Oops...”

The two of them walk in the room. I stay in the doorway to still keep watch. I figured the two of them need to do this together. Daniel says “Wow. There’s not that much left. Where do you think they put the rest of her stuff?” Sean tells him “It’s her teenage room, I’m sure she...sorted through her things before leaving for Seattle. The rest is probably packed in these boxes.”

I could see that there were boxes stacked in the corner near the closet. The rest of the room looked like it hasn’t been touched in years. Daniel asked “Sean...What do you think happened to all the stuff in my room? When we left...” Sean says with sadness in his voice, “I don’t know, enano...I wish I could answer that.” All he says is “Okay...”

I see Daniel picks up a book and goes to sit down in the armchair in the far corner. From the doorway, I say “Okay, you guys seen everything, you wanted to see? Claire and Stephen will be home soon now.” Daniel says “Just...Five more minutes.” He sets the book down and starts looking at the other items in the room.

Daniel asks “Sean...Are you really mad at mom for leaving us with dad?” I know it’s a topic he doesn’t like to talk about. For Daniel’s sake, he says “It’s a bit more complicated than that, man...” Sean picks up a teddy bear that is sitting on the dresser. He shows it to me. I smile and say “Cute.”

Sean says “Hey Daniel, check this out. His name is Ulysses.” He asks “Like...the hero?!” Sean says “I guess.” He says “So cool!” Daniel takes the teddy bear and sits on the ground, “Hi Ulysses! So...You were a friend of my mommy’s? I hope she took good care of you. Did she take you with her when she went on trips? I wonder why mom loved it so much. You’re not that fluffy anymore, little bear...”

Underneath Ulysses there was a folded piece of paper. Sean picks it up and examines it. He asks “Why would Claire lock these up in here?” He goes and sits on the bed. Daniel sets the teddy bear down and follows.

Curiously, Daniel asks “Is that from mom? Huh? Let me see...” as he tries to grab the piece of paper. Sean blocks him, “Daniel...Come on...” As he tries to grab the paper again, “What’s it say? Read it!” Sean blocks him again, “Seriously, stop!” He moves the paper slightly so Daniel can read it. Daniel begins to read, “I’ve heard the news about Seattle. Please help my boys and their friend if they come to you...” I walk into the room further as he reads the letter.

He asks “What? Why did they hide this from us?” Unsure, Sean says “I don’t know...” Daniel continues “You can reach me at this address, it’s a PO Box I use sometimes.” He looks back and forth between Sean and I. Asking no one in particular, “What’s a PO Box?” Sounding disapproved, Sean tells him “Well, a cop out...in this case...” Daniel finishes reading the letter, “I...beg you...please...help my sons.”

“Oh yeah, right...Total bullshit.” Sean says a little angry. “What do you mean? She cares about us!” Daniel says. He says “Well...I don’t...” Trying to sound hopeful, Daniel says “Maybe she...changed her mind! We could try and contact her!”

He says “You don’t even know her, okay?! Don’t get any wrong ideas. We should just...stick to our plan. For now...” Daniel asks “Can I read it again...?” Handing the letter to him, Sean says “Yeah...Then we gotta go...”

Distracted by the letter, we never heard Claire and Stephen coming up the stairs. We knew they were there when Claire says, shocked “My goodness. What happened...?” I say “Shit!” She asks “Excuse me, what are you three doing in here?! Except, visibly...ransacking our house while we’re at church?” Sean and Daniel stand up from the bed with the letter in hand.

I try to explain “Claire...We’re sorry...But we just wanted to - -“ Sean interrupts “We were just looking...for answers...and...uh...” Looking at the door, Claire asks “Were they really worth breaking my door open?!” Calmly, Stephen says “Claire, please. Calm down...” She tells him “No Stephen! They went way out of line here!” She turns back to us, “We specifically told you to stay out of this room!”

Daniel tells her “Uh...I just wanted to see my mom’s stuff!” Claire tells him “This isn’t her room anymore! There is nothing to see in here! It’s time you learn to respect some rules!”

“What’s the problem, then? If there’s nothing to see, why lock us out? Or get mad? It’s like you’re in denial...I know that mom left us...and yeah, it made me mad...but at least we moved on...” Sean says, angrily. Pointing a finger at him, she says “Don’t you dare lecture me, Sean. You don’t know anything about how I feel!” She grabs the letter from his hand, “One letter doesn’t change what she did to me...all of us! She is not welcome back.”

Sean tells her “Just don’t blame us...for being curious about her...” Claire says “But I know her better than anybody! She hasn’t changed! She just feels guilty!” “I can’t hear that.” Stephen says. He then leaves the room.

She was going to go after him but turns back to Sean, “Listen, Sean...I know life has been tough on you the past month...Bless your souls. And...and we put up with a lot of things...But...that...Breaking our door to sneak in the room...That shows you don’t respect us. Then act like I’m the bad guy! After what we’ve done for you! I knew something like this might happen...maybe you three staying here wasn’t such a good idea...” I thought After all you have done for us. We appreciate it but they just want answers.

Having a realization, Sean says “Man! I think I see why mom left now...She couldn’t put up with your stupid rules anymore!” Claire says “Oh...So that’s what you think? Then let me tell you something - -“

There was a loud thump and then Stephen’s screams could be heard from downstairs. Claire yells “STEPHEN!”

We hurry down the stairs to his workshop and find him trapped beneath a cupboard. Frightened, I say “Oh, shit!” Stephen shouts “Get...this...god damn thing off me!” In terror, Claire says “Stephen! No! Hold on, honey! We’ll get it off...” The four of us try and lift it. He says in pain, “NO...stop! My legs!”

Daniel steps back away from the cupboard. I was still trying to think of ways to get Stephen out. Sean must have given him a signal because he yells, “Do it, Daniel! Now!” She asks, confused “Do what? What’s going on? Oh, Lord! What...What are you doing, Daniel?”

Claire and I step out of the way. Daniel holds his hand out and concentrates on the cupboard. The cupboard begins to lift just enough for Sean to pull Stephen out. Daniel falls to the floor in exhaustion. I catch him just before he hits the floor.

She rushes to Stephen’s side, “Oh, my baby...Stephen, are you okay?” Exhausted, Stephen says “Now I am...Thanks to Daniel...You were right, Claire. I should have fixed that cupboard months ago. I guess my laziness will get me someday...” Bewildered, Claire says “What in the name of God was that all about? That’s impossible...What are you, Daniel?” Sean says “Claire...Listen...” Stephen says “They saved me, Claire. That’s all that matters...” Finally accepting what happened, she says “Maybe...It was a miracle...Thank you, Lord...”

All of a sudden the doorbell rings. Claire stands up and looks out the window. She says “It’s the sheriff...” Muffled, the sheriff says “Stephen? Claire?” Claire says “I didn’t...” The sheriff says “It’s about your grandsons and their friend.” She says “We didn’t call them.” Sean tells her “I know, grandma...” It was the first time, I ever heard him call her that since we arrived.

The sheriff tells them “They were spotted at the Christmas market, earlier today...” Still standing close to me, Daniel asks “What are we gonna do?” Stephen says “Go hide in the garage!” Sean says “No...No! No way!” I add “If the police search the house, that makes the two of you accomplices.” She tells us “Get your bags and go out the back door...I will distract him...” I ask “Really?” Stephen says “Yes. Now...”

The sheriff asks again “Stephen?” He says “Get the hell out of here!” The sheriff says “I know you’re in here, your car is in the driveway...” Sounding very caring, Claire says “I’m so sorry...For everything...I wish we could have helped you more...I wish you could stay here with us...Watch out for Daniel.” I tell them “Thanks for helping us...Both of you...” She tells us “Oh, we love you. Now hurry up!”

The three of us sneak into the hallway. Sean says “(Y/N), Daniel, wait for me while I go upstairs and grab our bags!” He runs upstairs. Daniel and I crouch as we run to the back. We hear Claire slightly open the front door and begin talking to the sheriff. Daniel and I have our winter gear on when Sean joins us with our backpacks in hand. Daniel and I throw our backpacks on. I open the back door and quietly say “Hurry!” Sean says “Move your ass, bro...Shit!”

We are in the backyard. We see another cop car pull up. I look around and decide the Eriksen’s yard. I tell them “This way!” We run towards their yard and climb the fence.

We run to the front yard of the Eriksen’s house. We are stopped in our tracks when a third cop car pulls up. We hold for a second and wait. The cop car put on its siren and pulls back out in our direction. All of a sudden Chris runs out into the middle of the road. He holds out his hand. Daniel yells “Chris!”

Daniel then thrusts his hand out and throws the cop car off the road into a tree. Chris turns to face us and is disappointed at the sight. Sean and I pull Daniel away. We run off in the opposite direction.

We came to a clearing up on top of a hill overlooking railroad tracks. We take a rest on a rock.

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