#strongly implied easter

[woah-uhuh-uhuh-uhuh]

haptic nerve blocking easter eggs

idk if these are obvious or not but I want to point them out so here you go!!! dont mind the self indulgence djsflkds

(also to everyone who rbed and or left nice tags. I love you. ;_; im going to happiness cry im in genuine SHOCK from the attention that it got in 1 night what the fuck literally what the absolute FUCK im going to explode. aaawuwuhfhfdh /pos ;____; )

SQUIP speech bubbles are based on 「Japanese quotation marks」 when I could finagle it

2. Michael's glasses, eyebrow, and pupil hidden in the girl sitting at the front! As well as his hair and headphones in the border.

On his left headphone, I used R instead of L because A) I flipped the panel after drawing it [as you can see from the alphabet lol] and B) I didn't want to use L and risk it looking like a speech bubble that says "L" lmao.. Later on page 5, I labeled Michael's headphones again hoping to prompt you to go back to this part in page 3 and look for his face OTL

Also as someone pointed out, Jenna and Brooke are in the left part of this panel, plus Rich in front of the alphabet (and in my mind, Jake partially covered by the speech bubble lol). And as many pointed out, you can see Michael's dialogue in the bottom of this panel too.

3. Vague silhouette of Michael's face in the border of page 3

4. In PE, the biggest yell in the background is "Get him!" implying they're telling Michael to get Jeremy or vice versa (because of course, everyone else can still see Michael).

(Also: the Michael progression of page 3 is kind of "oh, maybe he's ignoring me because the teacher's teaching?" to "come on dude this isn't funny... but I guess we're opponents and he's trying to score this goal...?" to "okay, everyone's slacking off right now including Jeremy so why isn't he responding, is he dead? Am *I* dead?!"

I imagine the final page is when Jeremy's walking out of school; Michael kind of realizes what's happening and tries to hold Jeremy still so he can't walk away again and so he has to acknowledge him. And throughout, the touches get progressively more personal from a tap on the shoulder, the back, grabbing arms, touching hair, and then a full body hug.)

5. Finally, as a stretch: in the last page, I omitted Jeremy's mouth partly because I couldn't draw a mouth that conveyed this emotion strongly enough (lol), but also as a bit of a reversal of Michael being "muted" by the squip - Jeremy is visually "muted" upon finally being forced to acknowledge him. It's a stretch because Jeremy literally talks in this panel lol (unless he's just thinking, I guess).

OK thats pretty much it bye sdlkfjdsfkdjsf

#posts #my art #i hope this is vaguely interesting and not entirely obvious jdslkfjdsklfjdsf

[disastergoose]

listening to the Gender Spiral podcast is so cool because there’s a lot of little Easter eggs about Dimension 20 and ally beardsley’s transmasc journey — they outright said creating Pete Conlan and Liam Wilhelmina were a huge part of that experience. they also talk a lot about the unique intersection and experience of being a transmasc person that could give birth, and joking about creating the term “masculine fertile”, which made me think of their character Mother Timothy Goose, who is strongly implied by the narrative to be a trans man who gave birth to a biological son. it’s just so cool dude. where else do we have these stories

#ally beardsley #gender spiral #pete conlan #liam wilhelmina #mother timothy goose #d20 #dimension 20

[asherlockstudy]

So, the journey was more about them (not the chicken). 👀

Of course.

I am gonna analyze the video here and... well... I have reasons that make me feel and think strongly about it and this may be evident in this post. Sometimes I might get a little judgy, a little confrontational... just fyi.

I have this feeling now, I feel vindicated, not so much about this video being obviously once more about their journey towards coming out but instead because I am vindicated in that they WANT people to pick up on their hints and some "brightbrains" who say "don't assume blah blah blah" are actually working AGAINST what Rhett and Link are trying to achieve right now. They are making their job HARDER. I will talk about it in a minute. Let's analyze this.

WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD

So they get to pick from four chickens in specific, they intentionally asked for four. My assumption is them and the wives, because obviously here we do not have just the issue of the sexuality, we also have the issue of what happens next with the marriages. It's not just a sexuality coming out, it's likely a coming out from two marriages, very well established situations, which makes it much harder overall under the public spotlights. (If someone gets hives at the implication that they will not come out together just because they get hard when they watch a Kevin Costner movie next to their beloved wives, well, it's not my problem. Perhaps stop reading at this point. What is going on is not just a label issue.)

The chicken was used as an allegory of a scared, even cowardly individual. Rhett says the initial idea was to give them names based on personalities (which strengthens the argument they were symbolizing four particular individuals) but kinda gave up on it and they named them Chloe, Lucy, Birdie and Drumstick. Chloe - short for Cloaca - is Link, she's the most eager one, Link has his mentality changed by the egg song, he is the chicken in the egg, he gives that speech for the choice of Chloe, and then of course he is the one who helps Chloe "cross" the road. Cloaca Chloe is Link.

Drumstick is the only one whose name could be perceived as derogatory (makes me suspect the name was indeed pre-selected) and Drumstick stubbornly remains last. Rhett very consciously says that apparently "Drumstick is the slowest one to pick up on what's going on". That's obviously either Jessie or Christy but I am a little confused as to who it really is because I would think the one, let's say, more innocent to start suspecting things would be Jessie but the one intentionally more unwilling to follow through with this plan would be Christy. Unless something has changed lately, I don't know. Maybe I am wrong about the "innocence" part though. I just think Christy is way more suspicious but on the other hand Jessie is very socially skilled and emotionally intelligent. So even though Christy could have been always more suspicious of Rhett and Link's relationship, in the end it may have been Jessie that picked up on the things that were really happening.

I wonder whether the shot of Drumstick hidden in the plants was a conscious choice...

Anyway, next. Eggs here is a symbolism for sex. Link confesses to Rhett he's not big on them and Rhett informs him there are so many ways to try eggs until you find the way you enjoy them. (What if this is how it all started?) But it actually has a double meaning. This is not the first time Rhett has implied Link is too vanilla and too hesitant to try new things. In GMM many times, like once he laughed "We are the most vanilla men in the world" and you can rest assured he doesn't consider himself responsible for it. Back to the video's context, this is an epiphany for Link - this realisation. He is pictured inside the egg, expressing his confusion and despair. The sequence of the song does not end happily. The egg does not crack yet and Link says how he is so confused he is on the verge of dying.

An easter egg (hehehe) is how many egg dishes Rhett is shown enjoying throughout the video. We know it, he loves sex A LOT and he loves it in as many ways as possible.

The roads where they are training the chicken are not coming out attempts, but technically the "coming out with each other". In the very first road, the chicken is very hesitant and uneager to walk. Eventually, Rhett loses patience, grabs the chicken and rushes it across the busy road, to Link's bafflement. They later both agree that this is not the way to do it, because the chicken did not enjoy the crossing. It was all too rushed and haphazard. This is perfectly aligned with what I have described before in at least two posts such as They dug a hole and PUZZLE: The recurrent Rhink storyline is not even new!!!!!!! If you know, you know. If you don't and are positively interested so far, I really think you should read them. AND I REALLY have to remind to everyone that the PUZZLE VIDEO IS FROM 2015!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS FORGET THAT, YOU VERY FEW FOLKS WHO KINDA BELIEVE ME BUT NOT QUITE. Sorry for the screaming. it's just... it's hugely important if you want to put things into perspective.

Want more argument line after line?

Rhett: Come on, Chloe. Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on. Get it. Get it. Get it. Come on, come on, Chloe. We're running out of time Chloe! (grabs the chicken) Link: 10 seconds- what? What are you doing?! (fast road crossing) Four, three, two, one. Rhett: Ah. Ahhh, God... I'm sorry, I panicked.... (apologetically to Link) I was just going on instict. The numbers were getting low*, single digits... Link: You are a results oriented person. Rhett: Right, I mean, she got to the other side! Link: Yeah... but it did not feel... great. Let's go back to the question. Why did the chicken cross the road? What if it wasn't to get to the other side? What if it was to have a glorious crossing experience?

Now compare this to the digging and the Puzzle videos or the paragraph with the bike pedalling in TLCOBC. They are all the same exact thing, the same incident. Digging is crossing, up to this point at least. *Rhett saying digits getting low, AKA falling, compare this with the missing head puzzle piece situation in the Puzzle and the hardship of pushing the shovel in the hard ground in We dug a medium sized hole. Like I have described, Rhett was having some physical limitations the first times and Link's ground was too tightly hard. (Link has numerous times also blessed us with the information that he has a very tight asshole. Sorry. He has chosen to say this.) Plus, Link makes an argument that... for the chicken it was not about getting to the other side, like, getting this done for some reason or ticking something off a list or just because it was a way to confirm something about the chicken's identity etc, but instead he wanted this to be a glorious experience. For him and, I dare say, for the other one who was involved. So this crossing was supposed to be ultimately founded on sincere emotional reasons, according to Link.

Anyway since Link, I mean, Chloe did not enjoy that very first rushed, rapid road crossing, they decide to try again in conditions more suitable for him her. They go to a small neighborhood road, where everything is just more peaceful and intimate and slow paced. And they are just the two of them.

Uhhhh except Jason Segel shows up with his own chicken and advices them that a chicken can't be forced into it but has to take the lead. "Incidentally", Segel's chicken is Paul Rudd and Rhett and Link emphasize on the fact that Paul Rudd is his friend and co-star. Segel and Rudd have played in a few movies together but undoubtedly the reference here is this one:

Now, the movie is exclusively a bromantic comedy, however it has some themes such as that the one's fiancé feels like a third wheel and initially the friend causes strain to the couple's relationship. Also, Rudd, the shorter more brunette half of the duo is the chicken in the stroller and Segel is his tall guide who "walks him out". Just in case you needed more proof Chloe was actually Link that Rhett walks out in various modes of frenzy or calm intimacy. Ahem.

The scene changes abruptly after Segel's advice. We do not see how the second attempt unfolded once they left it to Chloe to take the initiative while crossing the road. I don't remember in which post it was (could be in the linked ones) but I wondered once why they always talk or are inspired by the first, very unfortunate time and never the second or, say, the first mutually enjoyable time. I had reasoned they probably keep this off limits, just for them. I respect this fully, although the cave-girl in my brain dies to know what an inspired metaphor from that experience would look like!

The chicken couldn't realistically cross this highway. So they had to come up with a plan - a van with a build in simulation of crossing the road. I believe this could be an allegory for the fact that the official crossing will happen through an isolated, monitored, secure environment - that of a studio. I mean, aside from the fact that it was a necessary measure for the chicken in this case. We see again Rhett doing weird-ass maths with a hint of delirium in his eye - this is consistent with his overthinking anxiety while trying to take a nap and with his overpreparing for the night in the ghost-free house and for the quest for the brown diamond. It shows how Rhett, who struggles more with the actual crossing, has assumed a position of supposedly curating the crossing experience and overfixating about it, instead of doing it.

True enough, they go on a little competition about who gets to drive the car (plan the whole thing) and who is with the chicken (comes out). Unsurprisingly, Rhett convinces Link he is the one who has to be with the chicken.

A VERY interesting moment to me was the commentary about the animal monitor from the American Humane Society. Given how much of a serious deal this is, I can't be sceptical about whether this man was indeed the animal monitor or just acting like one. However, I am having so many thoughts about how Rhett and Link decided to make use of his (non)involvement. Usually, you don't make monitors and everyone else checking what you do a part of your final project. Usually, they are edited out or somewhere in a corner since their job is not to be part of your movie but instead to ensure all your practices remain lawful, harmless and sensible. The fact that he sits next to Rhett and is depicted multiple times, always taking notes (writing comments?), albeit blurred, makes me suspect Rhett and Link (certain they wouldn't mistreat the chicken), asked him to have a tiny part in the video. They also stressed he was checking on Chloe through a monitor showing him everything, like an audience. But why make a deal out of it? They make a big deal out of his UN-responsiveness, which is a little strange, since it is not his job to be responsive but rather to be as discreet as possible. And yet, here we are, Rhett and Link have something to say about it.

Would anybody make an educated guess whether the animal monitor is used here for another metaphor? The animal monitor is the fanbase. The unresponsive, stone-faced fanbase. They did explain recently they are not getting the reaction they wished for from the fans regarding the videos. And just so you do not get confused, they did clarify they are seeing and are thankful for the positive reception from the viewers. Still, they said, it is not what they were looking for! It's not a "bravo" they are after, they are after getting their message across, they are after seeing some understanding or realisation from the fans, who insist on not understanding or not wanting to understand. That's what I have been saying for months at this point. They want you to understand and acknowledge and expect this BEFORE they speak openly about it. I am not being evil or incosiderate or delusional for discussing this here openly as a few very clever individuals have insinuated - THEY WANT THIS TO START BEING DISCUSSED. They want to minimize the shock impact this will have if they do it on their own suddenly one Monday morning on GMM. And there's MORE proof of that later.

The highway goes in two directions of five lanes each and then there is also the median. They do the first five lanes with Link holding the chicken to walk on the treadmill. Then they reach the median, what they call liminal space. They stress this a lot so I think there is significance to it. They employed Hank Green to explain this better;

Liminal space is the concept of having left one state of being, but not yet having arrived at your next stage.

And because it is stressed, I think it signifies Rhett and Link's current stage: they are in liminal space, which means they have given up on their past selves but are not still quite where they are determined to be. Quite possibly it also means Link (and perhaps Rhett) has already done half the work; in his private relationships, with family and friends. And he is now in liminal space because he is hovering between his previous life and the future one where he can't get yet as long as he is a public persona who is still obligated to cross the next half of the road; the world.

Once they reach the median Rhett helps Link turn around the equipment, in order to give Chloe the illusion she is crossing the opposite direction lanes.

Rhett: I am not doing a lot. Link: I know you are not doing a lot! Rhett: I'm trying to remain in liminal space.

If you have doubts, consider please, what is the point for Rhett saying this in the context of the chicken's crossing? Does he want to keep the car forever in the median? Does he want to stay in the median while Link and the chicken leave him with the car? Does he want to stop the project? What does it mean? Nothing. It means nothing in the text plot of the video, but it means EVERYTHING for all the things we've been saying all this year and is the reason for the occasional apparent strain between Rhett and Link. Rhett does not want to leave liminal space as much as Link. Or, rather, he wants to but he is too scared of the consequences, especially when it comes to the reaction of his father and their fanbase, which could affect their career. Rhett here confirms indeed that he'd rather keep what's happening between them a secret or only known to their closest people (the ones it affects) but Link can't suffer it anymore. Rhett complies with it for Link's sake, both out of necesity and perhaps also out of love.

They also make a huge deal out of passing the bridge to reach the other lanes and of course they are much more excited about the second half. That's what happens now. We are at that stage of crossing the second half but unlike in the video we have not reached the EXIT (out). I wonder whether there is significance in that Link opts to keep the chicken in the stroller for the second half. My assumption is that in the first half (coming out to the loved ones) it was a process that took a lot of time like with the baby steps of the chicken, with a lot of pauses in the beginning. But once they decided to leave the liminal space behind, now the developments will be much faster and consequential. Now the chicken will be running on wheels.

Meanwhile, as the job's done and Rhett and Link are cheering for their success, the animal monitor is still taking notes in pure apathy. This alone makes it very likely something's up in his case. He almost certainly stands in for the commentators of their channels, who write, write, write irrelevant stuff while so many things happen under their nose.

The video ends with another cry from Rhett and Link that people will understand it's all about them and it's not just silly meaningless content.

Yes, the journey Link has been talking about the entire year.

Y'all, this is a cry at this point. If it was just cryptic work inspired by their private lives, which however they would want to keep entirely secret, they wouldn't make such pleas to be understood. They want people to start considering it, thinking it, discussing it. They want to prepare the fans' brains before the news falls on them in the likes of a huge asteroid. Still not sure about it?

Like I said, Rhett and Link have freaked out by their failure to communicate their message. So, this time Rhett wanted to check on the situation himself, in real time. They released the video in a later time, when more people could watch and Rhett did something he almost never has done before. He was liking and replying to comments personally. He did like a lot of the positive comments... perhaps he sighed in these ones

but there were SO many which were like this one

This person got nothing from that video and the last scene and everything they have said about their scripted videos and I can sense Rhett's disbelief and sarcasm from here. Also, notice how he did not heart that comment lol

Anyway from a quick scroll through the comments, I believe there are a few which could give them a little faith but ultimately the results were still underwhelming.

Last but not least, Rhett wasn't the only one reading the comments in real time with no chill left. Link found a different way to drive the point home:

Doodling hearts over the video, above their heads, on Rhett and on the first comment, which indeed was ambiguous.

(shoutout to @mpay22 for the screenshots)

They have no chill anymore but who's to blame them... Even I have no chill anymore with all the stuff I see regarding that situation and the whole thing does not concern me one bit.............. let alone them, whose entire future and happiness depend on it.

Thanks for reading my long - occasionally intense - answer / post.

#rhink #rhett and link #randl #r&l #r&l videos #mythical #rhett mclaughlin #link neal #anon #mail #long post #tw long post

[littlealeta]

I'm going to debunk some common Catherine theories real quick.

Catherine takes place in Japan.

Not every Japanese media takes place in Japan.

This was also kinda proven false in the art book, which says that it's a mix of Japanese and American culture. Everyone has English names, which strongly implies that it definitely takes place in America. The reason for some of the Japanese influences are either Atlus didn't do their research or it takes place in a fictional town where Japanese people are common, similar to how Black people are common in the South or Hispanics are common in New Mexico.

2. Rin is a child

No, she's not. First of all, you have to be 18+ to work at a bar and Erica confirms she is not a kid. Plus, if she really was a child, Vincent would've enrolled her in school. And also, IF SHE REALLY WAS A CHILD, THE RIN ROUTE WOULD'VE ENDED WITH VINCENT THROWN IN JAIL. She's a generic adult anime character with childlike qualities. If you go down her route, you'll find out she's an angel, which means that she technically doesn't have an age. The reason why she looks young is probably a combination of her being an otherwordly species and because many of today's 20 year olds still look like high schoolers.

3. Catherine takes place in the Persona universe

Just because Vincent was an Easter Egg in Persona 3 doesn't mean that it's canon that Catherine takes place in Persona's world. Easter eggs are usually used by companies to promote their other products, not to establish canon.

4. Catherine and Vincent are Joker's parents

Joker is Japanese while Vincent and Catherine are Americans. And again, CATHERINE DOES NOT TAKE PLACE IN THE PERSONA UNIVERSE.

#catherine game #catherine full body #persona #persona 3 #atlus #theories

[sarcasticgaypotato]

Do you agree with Ossy Flawol's video on Chell's backstory? What would be your own idea(s) about her? Also, when did Chell begin to develop feelings for GLaDOS in The Resurrection Project? Since we've only read it through GLaDOS' POV. I really loved reading TRP, so I also wanted to ask if you'd like to tell us about Chell's POV in the fic (I'm new to this blog so I am probably not aware if a question like this has been asked before). Thank you!

Alright two big questions here (and technically a third one) so I'll try and keep my answers separate so it doesn't bleed into one big long ramble. Ossy Flawol's video 'Who Is Chell?'

I thought it was well done! They clearly did their research, the video is edited nicely, and I think it's a perfectly good theory.

However, I think some of their conclusions are a bit of a stretch. While the bring your daughter to work day theory they offer is good, they don't do quite enough to convince me. I personally think it's very likely that the potato battery easter egg is just that; an easter egg, not canon lore. That doesn't mean I don't think it's fun to consider the implications if it was canon, it just means that I think the original intention behind putting it in there was just 'oh haha wouldn't this be fun' and not any serious lore plans.

I also think Flawol puts a bit too much stock into GLaDOS's insults without really considering them as a whole. They fixate strongly on the idea that there's 'half-truths' to her insults, but they neglect to mention all the jokes made about Chell's weight and her potential brain damage. We can certainly headcanon these being things Chell is specifically sensitive about, but considering there's no evidence to support it, I think it more likely that they're just...generic insults. Yes GLaDOS makes them in a very targeted manner, but 'you're fat and stupid' is hardly a unique insult to bully someone with.

Further, if Flawol believes we can trust that GLaDOS's lines have some element of truth to them, what about the 'good people don't end up here' line? Nothing in their theory implies that Chell has done anything that would make her sensitive about that comment, just that she's independent.

All in all I enjoyed the video, but there's a bit too much cherry-picking in certain spots for me to 100% agree with it. Definitely worth a watch though! (I was happy to see them point out the stupidity of the 'Caroline and Cave are Chell's parents' theory. Anybody who does that gets a thumbs up in my book.)

As for my own ideas about Chell? I've got some other asks in my inbox about Chell where I'll be tackling more of that soon, so keep an eye out!

When did Chell develop feelings for GLaDOS in 'The Resurrection Project'? What is Chell's POV?

I love this question because Chell's perspective throughout TRP is something that's kept purposefully unknown. The reader only ever sees her through GLaDOS's eyes, making her thoughts, feelings, and intentions a bit of a mystery.

Playing the games, it's easy to take it for granted how much we project onto Chell. We can easily imagine Chell's perspective because we're playing it, but what would it be like to be GLaDOS? How would you interpret someone like Chell?

Do you think Chell set up handgun practice as a way to get close to GLaDOS? Was she lying about only being able to get one shower? What was going through her mind when she held GLaDOS through her nightmare?

I'm hesitant to say too much about Chell, even years later, because I think a lot of the fun is how the reader interprets it. However, I can give a bit of the thought process behind her.

GLaDOS saved Chell's life at the end of Portal 2. She kept her word, she let her go. They worked together as a team to defeat Wheatley and they worked together well. Chell never forgot any of that, even when she initially comes off as cold to GLaDOS in the beginning of TRP.

Chell wonders if this is all some elaborate trick, but dismisses that once she sees how miserable GLaDOS is. From there, she finds this situation is a bit like when they were working together in Aperture, because GLaDOS isn't in a position of power over her, and it's not bad. They work well together, Chell might be catching some feelings, but all that has to clash with her lingering distrust.

There's a reason why, despite moments of them getting closer, Chell takes a long time to actually speak to GLaDOS. That is, in a lot of ways, the final hurdle she had to overcome. That was the biggest show of trust Chell could give her, and thus it's no surprise that she kisses GLaDOS soon after.

#chelldos #portal #portal 2 #the resurrection project #trp #chell #glados #I've got more chell thoughts on the way but it takes me 10 years to write anything #so just hang tight everybody

[bandcampfun2021]

This is part 2 of my analysis of the 2nd official Fnaf trailer. If you haven't seen part 1 of my analysis, I recommend you give that a read-through so that you can fully understand what's happening in that segment.

Now there are several things and little Easter eggs that I have to admire about this scene: this guy's Midnight Motorist T-shirt, the fact that we actually get to see the kitchen from the first game, the cranking and whirling as Chica slowly walks up behind this guy, and finally the cupcake having its own jumpscare.

We then see Mike pulling up to Freddy's, juxtaposed with William telling him, "I have a job for you. Piece of cake, really." This strongly implies that the two men have known each other for at least a few years or at least long enough for William to pick up on Mike's habits or him moving from job to job every few months.

As for this next shot, I do have to admire just how amazing Freddy's looks when Mike turns the power on. This just might be the most visually pleasing live-action film of October, solely due to how precise the attention to detail is.

Now, this next shot of Bonnie opening his eyes may have happen when Mike and Abby first come in. But it most likely happens when Mike is asleep and Abby takes the opportunity to wander out and explore the pizzeria.

#five nights at freddy's movie #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #abby schmidt #michael afton #william afton #part two

[grazhir]

Sims 4 - More

Still seeing oddities in the food menus, but I'm too tired to give a shit at the moment (entries with a blank blue !icon and maybe no listing of ingredients). This is down to the core.package, core.script, and the food&drink.package.

On the plus side? The Spice Festival swag stall has all four spices with the correct names, so there's that. Game repair helped, certainly.

Still having issues with shit not always wanting to go from Sprouting stage to Mature stage (thank you, shift+click). Sometimes they do (maybe because I left the lot, IDEK, and sometimes they don't, but it was much worse prior to the repair.

I remembered one thing that bugs the hell out of me, and that's the Skills tab. What the hell determines the order? Because I swear it's not the same from look to look. I wish I could just force it to always sort alphabetically or by level. Whatever.

Current girl is a Daughter of the Easter Hare and in debt for $500k (minus whatever she's had garnished). I remember the downside to that trait now. It's pretty much impossible to get anything fitness related done.

Fucked around with a separated bed mattress, to add a swatch in a light/pastel pink. No, it wasn't perfect. No, I don't care. My bunny has a pink and white bed, okay? Good.

She also has pink bunny ears when she's in her slut uniform (which, naturally, is also pink, and uses a slutty top and skirt, both of which more strongly imply "slut" rather than blatantly saying "I might as well be naked for all the good this outfit is in failing to cover certain things".

Exported the white/silver version of the hair she's using (from both packages, with and without a fringe), the loaded them up in PSP to select, flood fill in a new layer, transparency... (Yeah, I have Photoshop, no, I've never gotten around to learning it.)

So a pink and blue option that isn't the EA standard of heavy saturation. I want pink hair to go with her pink stuff.

I'll have to check next time I go in if I got it right this time.

#sims 4 #sims 4 mods

[hazelcephalopod]

Things I’d have liked to seen instead of most of the latter seasons of Supernatural.

A) all the lowercase G gods were once somewhere near Chuck-gods power. But they are empowered by worship, which few of them are currently getting. Death and the Empty are implied to be related to these gods but do not require worship for their power, and Amara is a being more like them.

Note: Death and the Empties existence implies more is going on cosmologically than is presented. The reapers and other creatures could as well.

B) Chuck-god has particular talent for creating beings with “the divine spark” aka Angels. It is strongly implied that angels may eventually be able to grow into god like power and may actually *be* neophyte gods. Part of their apotheosis involves learning to love.

C) Gabriel and Loki continue to pop up, even after being killed. If asked which they really are they reply that they don’t remember. If this is true or not is left in question.

D) Chuck-god is a liar. He and several other gods created this universe and he’s been taking all the credit. Maybe Amara is less just evil, idk.

E) Cas does make good on his deal to return to the Empty, for whatever reason/s. However another being makes some deal to set him free and avoid some multiverse destruction in the final season. (Maybe the weird cosmic horror Easter eggs could come into play here)

F) Near copies of our universe are implied or explicitly revealed to be the result of strange time travel/magic shenanigans. Other universes also exist that are similar or completely different from the main one, and most are created by different god-beings.

G) the general public becomes increasingly aware of the supernatural as the show goes on. Until by the last season it’s just being talked about on the news. Maybe the government makes their own Hunter organization (undecided if I want that org to be awful at their jobs in a comedic way, or decent at their jobs but frustrating for the Winchesters).

H) more good witches and magic users with happier endings. Sam learns more magic.

I) happier endings for everyone. Also more diversity. All the side characters don’t need to be killed off, they can just go do other things.

J) Chuck-god and Amara can cause problems, but Death shows up like an older brother to put a stop to it and is like “oh did you think I’d actually died? Plz. This was my retirement until these two shits (Chuck-god and Amara) caused problems. It is not yet this universes time.”

K) truly stakes do not always have to be deadly. (I swear the pun was an accident)

#spn #long post #none of this happened for many reasons but throwing noodles of ideas is fun

[always-outlander]

A Formal Review of “Go Tell The Bees That I Am Gone,” Outlander Book Nine - SPOILERS AHEAD

As I finally have a moment to sit down with my laptop, and have also taken an adequate 12 hours to decompress from finishing this book, I am now ready to write up my formal review. 

So with that said, if you are not caught up on books 1-8 (and/or read at a normal pace so you haven’t quite finished Go Tell The Bees), please proceed with caution as there will be spoilers! 

First I will start with a very surface level review, which is that I did very much enjoy this book. Is it my favorite of all of them? No, but I also have a hard time pulling out a favorite (because I think we can all agree book 1 is the best, but beyond that, they are all strong in my opinion). As with all of Diana’s books and true to her writing in general, there were many moments of absolute genius. I found that this book heavily referenced previous book events, and also quite a few of the novella’s she has written over the years. One of my favorites was Claire retelling Jamie of eating her peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the bench in Edinburgh right before finding him again in the print shop, and letting her cellophane wrapper float away in the wind, a moment which we actually saw in season 3 on one of the title cards. Call backs to moments like these in this book felt like special little Easter eggs, and when I read them I was intimately reminiscent of Jamie and Claire’s origin story and just how far they’ve come so far. It raised the stakes, but also provided the nostalgia that gets me every time. 

And while there are many, many good moments here, there are also mediocre moments. I will say that by now I am used to Diana’s writing style, which is highly descriptive and takes the time to explain even the most minuscule of details. This can sometimes make the chapter (and book) feel like it is being dragged on forever - and this book is nearly 1000 pages long - but it is also why I feel so strongly for this book series. Those details paint an incredibly detailed and complete picture, and she paints with that broad brush in every scene, not just the scenes with Jamie and Claire present. There was not as many intimate scenes and conversations between Jamie and Claire in this one either, which was palpable. They are the heart of this story and I personally felt like they were not central this time around. It wasn’t until the third act that they made there typical exclamations of love for one another known and felt, and that did feel odd to me. Jamie was “quiet” in this book, more than ever before. I found myself wishing for chapters from his point of view, so that I had a few more moments with his thoughts.

What also tended to frustrate me, was that there were moments which are insignificant to the plot and somehow earned pages of prose, and I found myself dying for certain scenes or conversations to be longer. Specifically, all of the moments shared between Bree and William. These scenes and chapters were the highlight of this book for me. There is SO MUCH to be said there, and while I do understand that William is still in a state of denial/frustration over his true parentage, its also been YEARS since he last saw Bree. Surely by now he would have questions for her. And surely Bree, as outspoken as she is, would initiate those difficult but necessary conversations with him. I loved the two of them together and their dynamic jumps off the page, but damn it give me more! 

Bree & Roger

Similar to the previous books, this one does take a while to get going. The first half+ of the book does not feel like a true ascent, but rather re-establishes the plot and explains the landscape in which we will move forward in the story. Bree and Roger are back, and we do not get to take part in the hard conversations between Bree and her parents regarding her attack. It is instead implied those conversations take place, and we do get far less of Bree and Roger in this book than I thought we would. Given the events of the last book I was surprised by this, but I also don’t know that we needed to, now that they are back on the Ridge. When they returned, Bree brought a number of books back with her. One of them is written by her late father, Frank. This book becomes significant to Jamie, as he feels it was written directly to him. 

Jem and Mandy are growing so fast, and I loved their dynamic with Jamie, Claire now that they have more to offer to the storyline. As they grow older I feel that they will become some of my favorite characters. Along with Germain, who we got more of this book, but still far too little of Fergus and Marsali. Give me more Farsali! 

In this book, many big moments take place for both Bree and Roger. But because we don’t spend a whole lot of time with them, those moments feel slightly glossed over. Roger formally becomes a minister and takes part in two major battles (one in Savannah, the other alongside Jamie at Kings Mountain in 1780). Bree is diagnosed with an irregular heartbeat, which she thinks might be a side effect of time travel. She also becomes pregnant with their third child, and delivers him (David William Ian Fraser MacKenzie) on September 16th, 1780 at Frasers Ridge. 

William

We also had far less Lord John that I expected, but he is at the center of the plot by book’s end. I am glad that instead, we got more of William in this book. I won’t lie, in the overarching story I didn’t really care for him so far. He came across as incredibly immature in MOBY, and I had a hard time finding anything redeeming in him. When you have a father like Jamie (and Lord John, for that matter), you wouldn’t expect him to be such a damn baby. In this book, however, he is 21 and thankfully the increased age has made him more likable (at least for me). He starts off the book similarly to where we left him, heartbroken over Jane, angry over Jamie Fraser, and looking for his cousin Benjamin despite reports that he had been killed. He has also resigned his commission in the British Army, having decided that he does not wish to be the Earle or Ellesmere now that he knows he is actually a bastard. I found his storyline in this book far more entertaining than in the last. It felt like he had a true purpose for his meandering up and down the east coast, in search of his cousin who (in an exciting and interesting plot twist) is a turncoat, who faked his own death so that he could take up office in the American military. 

This therein creates the subplot, involving Ben’s estranged wife (and fake widow, seeing as he is actually still alive), Amaranthus. She is in Savannah with her newborn son Trever, taking refuge with William’s uncle Hal. Amaranthus tries to entice William with an offer to provide him with a male heir so that he no longer is obliged to be the Earle of Ellesmere. William is attracted to her and wrestles with this offer for the first half of the book. In truth, I hated Amaranthus and thought William should know better than to fall for someone so calculated, but alas. He is a stupid boy, who needs a woman not a lassie, as Murtagh would say. I really hope he does not end up with this woman for a wife.

William meets Brianna in Savannah by the middle of the book, the two of them having been conveniently set up by Lord John and Jamie to be in the same place as the same time so that they can reconnect. Bree has come to Savannah to commission a portrait of a wealthy heiress, and she and William later end up traveling to the American camp so that she can paint the portrait of a fallen general. William stays with her all night, and repeatedly refers to her as his sister in public, a moment which tugged at my heart strings and felt incredibly significant for both him and Bree. As I said before, the scenes with the two of them together were my favorite. I could read a whole book of them getting to know each other.

In a later encounter with Ezekeil Richardson - the Captain under which William performed several intelligence missions for in MOBY - Richardson makes mention that he knows Williams sister, which makes William uneasy. He sends a letter to Brianna, warning her of him and providing her with a sketch of his face. Brianna recognizes the man as one of the men who attacked her at Lallybroch, and informs Rodger that he must be a time traveler. 

Lord John

As mentioned above, we did have far less of Lord John than I would have liked (he is one of my favorite characters), but he is very important as we head towards the tenth book of the series. For most of this book he is with his brother Hal, offering him aid and assistance as he tries to wrap his head around the questionable events surrounding his missing son, Benjamin. He spends much of the book in Savannah, and in the beginning of the book he and William reunite after a long time apart at his house on Twelve Oglethorpe Street. William brings his friend, John Cinnamon, with him as Cinnamon is convinced that Lord John is his true father. This is obviously a point of contention for William, having found out that the Earl of Elsmere was not his true father himself. 

Lord John informs Cinnamon that sadly he is not his father either, but uses William’s time in Savannah to try and re-establish their relationship. He has also spent considerable time with Ben’s widow, Amarathus, and introduces the two of them. Hal eventually receives a letter from Denzell Hunter, the Quaker Doctor who had married his daughter, Dottie in MOBY. He informs Hal that he has been arrested, and that Dottie fell ill in the prison while with him. He asks that he come retrieve her and bring her home so that she might recover, and Hal sends William to Virginia under the protection of a British Commission. 

When William returns to Savannah without Dottie, he informs Lord John of the truth he uncovered; Ben is very much alive, in New Jersey, under the alias of General Raphael Bleeker. Ben is a traitor, and when she realized there was no talking him out of it, Amaranthus suggested Ben fake his death so that Hal would still take her and their son Trevor in. Lord John informs Hal, who later leaves Savannah in search of Ben in New Jersey. While Hal is away, Lord John receives a suspicious letter from a ship captain claiming that his Tomas Byrd (his former Valet from the Lord John Grey Novellas) is in need of monetary assistance aboard a ship in port. Lord John goes to investigate, and is kidnapped by Ezekiel Richardson. 

Richardson has blackmailed John with written confessions from both Neil Stapleton and Percy Wainwright (both from the Lord John Series), claiming they had intimate relations with John. Richardson’s plan is to use John as leverage in an effort to prevent Hal from returning to England and advising the House of Lords to withdraw from the war. He asks John if he is aware of what Claire Fraser and her family are (i.e. time travelers) and tells him that he too, is one of them. 

It seems Richardson’s true mission is to try and abolish slavery. If Britain remains in America and wins the war, then America would remain a British colony and would not engage in slave trading. Existing slaves would be freed under the Slavery Abolition Act in 1833, and the civil war will be prevented. I am unsure how this plot line will tie in with Brianna, as at first it seemed like Richardson came back in time to go after her, and this appears to be an all together different storyline. When John thinks all hope of being found is lost, he asks one final request of Percy; that he find William, and tell him that he loves him. Percy does find William, and in an act of bravery and love for John, tells William where he is.

Jamie

Oh Jamie, the poor guy can never catch a break and this book is no exception. After having been banished from his own community, Jamie is back on the Ridge and set to build his new house with his family around him. All appears to be going well on the surface, but for the duration of this book Jamie is dealing with the inner turmoil caused by Frank Randall and his book, ‘The Soul of a Rebel.’ Jamie reads it and feels as though Frank wrote it to him. In it, Frank calls out many signifiant dates which Claire, Jamie, Bree and Rodger refer to throughout the book. For Jamie though, it is the chapter in which Frank calls out the death of a Jamie Fraser on October 7th, 1780 at Kings Mountain that has him convinced that this is the day and place he will die. 

In the meantime, Jamie is also dealing with Captain Cunningham, a former member of the British Navy, who has hatched a plan to aid the growing Loyalist militia right under Jamie’s nose. It later comes to Jamie’s attention that Cunningham plan to arrest Jamie and see him delivered to Patrick Ferguson (leader of the Loyalist Militia, who will eventually lead the battle at Kings Mountain). Jamie is attacked and wounded but not killed in Cunningham’s effort to capture him, and Cunningham is paralyzed. 

In an effort to protect his family and tenants, Jamie begins to raise his own Militia and seeks out other allies in the backcountry. All the while, Frank’s book is in the back of his mind. He does not tell Claire of Frank’s account on Kings Mountain, as he is still unsure that the James Fraser Frank refers to is actually him. 

He has Bree and Rodger smuggle guns to Fergus and Marsali in Charles Town, and continues to train the men of the Ridge for much of the book. In a turn of events, Ulysses makes a reappearance and is now a Captain in the British Army. It is not a friendly visit, however, and he informs Jamie that according to the Secretary of State for the American Department, Jamie’s land grant had been fraudulently obtained and he is to surrender Frasers Ridge and leave his home immediately. Jamie follows him after he departs and attacks him in an effort to obtain the document and destroy it, but with no such luck. In the attack, one of Ulysses men, Sergeant Jackson, breaks his leg and Jamie brings him back to Claire to help aid him.

When that fateful day at King’s Mountain finally arrives, Jamie is shot multiple times and does in fact die, but Claire is able to save him with her blue healing powers (something I am very curious about and hope we get a more detailed explanation on in the next book). I won’t lie, I cried when he left her for this battle having been inside his head leading up to this moment and watched him draw up a will and testament in the previous chapter in preparation for the end of his life. I did think that if he was convinced he was going die, we would have at least had a scene with him and Bree before he left, but that’s just me being nit-picky. 

In our last scene with Jamie, he is standing on the front porch of the New House, having just discovered that Sergeant Jackson obtained the land grant documents and sent them to Claire as a thank you for tending to his leg. The Ridge is safe, and for a moment it appears that all is resolved. William then rides up to the house in search of Jamie. The ship on which Lord John has been help captive is no longer in port, and William needs Jamie’s help once more.

Claire

Like Jamie, Claire starts out this book with a strong desire to find a sense of normalcy again. With Bree and Rodger back, she knows that something in their time must have gone horribly wrong, but is selfishly grateful that her family is by her side once more. Brianna brought her back a medical book from the future, which she uses throughout this story to help heal the injured on The Ridge. In the first half of this book, we also see Claire take Fanny (who was given to Claire and Jamie by William at the end of the last book) under her wing. Fanny is still struggling with the death of her sister, Jane, and Claire is able to provide her with reassurance, love, and comfort. Fanny proves to be a great help to Claire and Jamie. To me, she is the only real link we get between Jamie, Claire and William in the entire book (save a few comments and internal monologues by them both throughout the book). 

It is in the early part of the book that we see Claire receive her bees from John Quincy Meyers, and begin her relationship with them. Evidently it is tradition to speak with your bees and inform them of the ongoings of your house, so that they feel a connection with you and don’t flee to build a new hive somewhere else. Throughout the book I find her moments in the garden really lovely, as it is a call back to her love of plants and to previous comments made by Jamie, Bree and Frank that she would live in her garden with her plants and herbs if she could. This sentiment is a really sweet part of her storyline, and I love that it serves as inspiration for the title.

When Captain Cunningham starts to rouse trouble on the Ridge, Claire finds a rather odd friendship struck between herself and Captain Cunningham’s mother, Elspeth. The two find a mutual respect between them, and when Captain Cunningham’s plan to capture Jamie is discovered, Elspeth and Claire spend the night together in the living room of the New House, waiting for the outcome. When Jamie arrives back at the house, he is wounded and Cunningham has been shot in the back. Claire is able to help Cunningham as best she can, but unfortunately he is paralyzed. This relationship with the mother of the enemy serves as insight into one of Claire and Jamie’s strengths as a couple - despite the growing tensions and lines being drawn between the sides, they still treat the people around them with respect. Jamie did not need to bring Cunningham to Claire, but he is an extension of her and knows her desire and ability to heal anyone in need. This is echo’d again when he brings Sergeant Jackson back to the house, and Claire and Jamie’s kindness towards him is what ultimately saves the Ridge. Jackson repays them by recovering the land grant, and saving their home from Ulysses and the British Government. 

There are two instances when Claire uses her “blue” healing powers in this book, the first of which when Agnes Cloudtree appears on their door. Her mother is in labor, and is having trouble delivering the baby. When Claire arrives, she discovers that Susannah is having twins, and one of them is stuck. When she is able to deliver the first baby, she discovers the second (a girl), is stillborn. This immediately gives her flashbacks to Faith, and is one of many mentions of Faith in this book. I always disliked that Claire and Jamie do not think of or talk about Faith more, but they certainly do in this book. Together, she and Jamie morn over this baby girl, reliving the loss of Faith together again. For Jamie, it is the first time he truly sees the loss of an infant, as he was not with Claire when she delivered Faith. In her sadness, Claire refuses to put the baby down, and eventually breaths life back into her with her hands. 

The second instance is on Kings Mountain, when Claire joins Jamie on the battlefield and discovers him shot and dying on the edge of a cliff. Some of my favorite Claire and Jamie moments come just prior to this battle, when Jamie shares with Claire that he believes he will die and Claire, in her stubborn way, informs him that he is not allowed to. It was a call back to the first book after Wentworth, and again when Jamie was bit by a snake and nearly died. Diana’s writing in this scene is very vague and so the way in which Claire is able to heal Jamie is not clear, but she lays with him on that cliff face for days, refusing to let go of him and once again, uses her hands to breathe new life back into his body. She had been told by the Native American healer that when her hair is all white, she will come into her full power. By the end of this book, we are nearly there.

Honorable Mentions

- Roger met young Jenny Fraser in MOBY, and he tells Jamie about that day at the beginning of this book, and of meeting his father Brian and Jack Randall. Roger feels that Jamie should should make Jenny aware of their time travel situation prior to seeing him again. This is a scene that I wish we got. We never see Roger and Jenny talk about this together in the book. In fact, we never even see them talk to each other at all.

- Fergus and Marsali begin this book separated from Germain following the death of Henri-Christian. The family needed time apart, as Marsali couldn’t look at Germain without seeing Henri-Christian and Claire volunteered that he stay with them. Marsali eventually sends Germain a heartbreaking note asking him to return to them, and informing him (and the rest of the family) that she has given birth to twins. When we do meet up with them, they are continuing their work for the rebels through print, and Fergus sends a letter at the end of the book stating that he “cannot leave undone the Work of Freedom to which I am called.” I hope we spend more time with Fergus in the next book, and that he can elaborate on what it is he is being called to do. 

- Ian and Rachel are raising their son, Oggy alongside Jenny at the Ridge. Ian is later informed that the village of his former wife, Works with Her Hands (aka Emily), has been attacked and her husband killed. Ian is compelled to travel to New York to see that she and her children are safe, and brings Rachel, Oggy and Jenny along with him. The scene were Rachel meets with Ian’s former wife was very heartwarming, and my love for Rachel only grows in this book. While there, Ian discovers that he has a son by Emily, and is asked to take him with him back to the Ridge. Emily also asks that she be able to name Ian’s son for him (since Ian had named hers), and chooses the name Hunter. 

- Jamie does have a handful of dreams in this book, though it is unclear if any of them are dreams in which he appears in the future. He does have a couple of dreams of Culloden, and a conversation with Jenny where he remembers more of that day. Specifically, seeing Murtagh on the battlefield right before his death. We had not been given this closure in the books like we have on the show, so this passage was really special to me. 

- Jenny meets an Indian known as Sachem while in New York, who immediately takes a liking to Jenny. He travels back to The Ridge with Ian and their family, and meets with Claire. He tells her that he died from a snakebite and was brought back to life, wherein he now sees ghosts. He tells Claire that he sees Ian Murray (Sr.) follow Jenny around often. He also sees a small child following Claire around, though she is faint (implied that it is Faith), and a man with round glasses and a strange hat (Frank Randall). He tells her that it is the ghost of a man who loved her, and means her no harm. Sachem also tells her that this man often follows her husband Jamie, too. 

Final Thoughts

All and all, it was another good read. This book was engaging, descriptive and dense, filled with the characters and writing that make Outlander so special. It did feel like its main purpose was to set up the finale, and I do hope 10 is not the last book, but if it is, ‘Go Tell The Bees’ certainly laid solid foundations. Unlike previous books there aren’t as many open-ended storylines here, and the direction heading into the next book is clear for everyone, not just Claire and Jamie. I just ask that Diana provide us with plenty of moments and conversations shared between Jamie and William, William and Bree, and Claire and William in the next book. Basically, we need William to get to know this family, and they need to get to know him. I think having had William become a man independent of the Fraser influence will make this dynamic incredibly engaging, and now that William is not quite as malleable as he would have been as a young child, they will all be able to teach one another and converse as adults.

I also know that the world building is ongoing and there are hundreds of characters to write about and weave into these books, but we all read because we fell in love with Jamie and Claire. They are of course central to this story too, but I do hope that the next book really zeroes in on them, their love, and their dynamic. Claire’s chapters are always in first person so I feel connected to her always, but I wanted more Jamie in this story, especially considering he is now connected with Frank in such a significant way via his book (and evidently his ghost).

I can’t wait to see how this dysfunctional and ever growing family turn out in the next one. Let’s all pray it won’t take 7 years to find out. 

#outlander #outlander book #outlander spoilers #outlander book nine #outlander book 9 #go tell the bees that i am gone #go tell the bees #diana gabaldon #outlander series #outlander book quote #outlander review #review #book review

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Deltarune Theory: The True Identity and Importance of “Everyman”

I’ve been away from the Undertale theory scene for a long time. It’s been so long that a whole new-fangled game got announced, and I’ve got some theories on it.

Are these theories about Gaster or Sans or whatever’s going on with Kris? Not exactly. At least, not yet. I’ve got a better character in mind.

Let’s start with Everyman: Undertale’s most obscure character and (I think) one of the most pivotal in Deltarune.

This is a two-part theory: the first part outlines who Everyman is and why I think he’ll be important in Deltarune. The second part? You’ll have to read and find out.

This is a long one and with loads of images, so strap yourselves in.

Sections

Part 1: Introduction to Everyman

Who is Everyman?

“So Everyman’s just an Easter egg, right?”

Everyman’s Importance

Why did Everyman appear in True Lab?

Why Everyman will have a bigger role in Deltarune

Part 2: Everyman is ???

What will Everyman’s role be?

Jevil’s Connection to Everyman

The Spade King’s clue

Additional Evidence

“Seriously?”

The Gaster connection

The “Strange Son”

Who made who?

“Seriously, who is Everyman?”

End

Closing Summary

Final Conclusions

Who is Everyman?

"Everyman” is a special attack that appears during the Reaper Bird amalgamate fight in True Lab.

This same figure appears twice in Deltarune’s first chapter:

Once as graffiti in an alleyway in Hometown...

...and again as a rare bullet attack during Jevil’s fight.

The name “Everyman” only ever appears in-game next to his graffiti portrait in Hometown. Everyman’s sprites are simply titled “strangeman” in Undertale’s game files:

[Image transcript: UTModTool is showing multiple highlighted sprite entries that begin with “spr_strangeman”. On the right is the file “spr_strangeman_walk” opened, showing a picture of Everyman. End image transcript]

Some time after Undertale’s release there was a since-deleted tweet from Toby with a picture of Reaper Bird’s attack that he titled “Everyman,” which is where fans first got the name.

[Image transcript: A tweet from toby fox that says “Everyman”. The first reply says “Is that his name. please thell me thats his obj name.” Toby’s response repeats “Everyman.” The next reply says “everything i aspire to be.” Toby responds again with “’Everyman’ you aspire to be.” Toby then adds another tweet saying “Description. Just a good guy that shows up on occasion.” end image transcript.]

This is a web archive screenshot so the image of Everyman’s bullet sprite wasn’t preserved here. Special thanks to catcat for tracking this one down!

“So Everyman’s just an Easter egg, right?”

I don’t think so. I’d be more inclined to write off Everyman’s role in Deltarune as a mere cameo if he had only shown up once. But it’s odd that Toby felt the need to include Everyman twice in a single chapter. To me this seems less like a one-off cameo and more like foreshadowing for a greater role in the full game.

Let’s compare Everyman’s appearances to instances of character foreshadowing and one-off cameos from Undertale and Deltarune:

Mettaton

[Image transcript: four Undertale screenshots arranged in a grid. In the top-left screenshot, the narration text box reads “(the machine isn’t working.)” as Frisk stares at Mettaton in Snowdin’s colored tile puzzle room. In the top-right screenshot, the narration textbox is reading a TV announcement in Papyrus’ house: “(It says ‘STAY TUNED FOR A NEW PROGRAM - MTT.’)”. In the bottom-left screenshot, Napstablook’s text box says “there’s a show i like to watch on it... sometimes...” as Frisk looks at their television. In the bottom-right screenshot, Undyne’s text box says “This oven is some top-of-the-line MTT thing.” as Frisk stares at her oven. End image transcript.]

Mettaton is foreshadowed multiple times before he makes his proper introduction in Alphys’ Lab. This includes a direct on-screen appearance of his rectangular form as part of Snowdin’s colored tile puzzle. What’s interesting is that half of these references (including the tile puzzle) only make sense in hindsight to a first-time player. For all we know there could be other, more-cryptic Everyman references already in Deltarune that we don’t have the full context to understand yet.

Rouxls Kaard

Despite his legendary introductory sequence catching many-a-player off-guard, Rouxls Kaard actually is foreshadowed a couple of times before his stunning debut.

[Image transcript: four Deltarune screenshots arranged in a grid. In the top-left screenshot, Ralsei is reading a message from Rouxls Kaard: “It says... ‘Thoust fools, thou will NEVER figure it out now!’. This is continued in the top-right screenshot: “Then it, um, says, ‘PS - I make my own Rules. - RK’”. In the bottom-left screenshot, a puzzle-master says “ROUXLS KAARD... Lord of the Puzzles... Be careful...!” In the bottom-right screenshot, one of Clover’s heads says “RK came by... What a hunk!” End image transcript.]

I’ve noticed from watching Let’s Plays that many people don’t even realize that these lines were meant to foreshadow him (and I’m pretty sure I didn’t realize it either on my first playthrough).

Ice-E

Now here’s something that’s an example of both a one-off cameo and proper foreshadowing! In Undertale, Ice-E is referenced exactly once in the entire game—as part of Sans’ Monster Kidz Word Search puzzle. No other character mentions Ice-E, Ice-E does not appear in-person, nor does the Ice-E’s restaurant appear... in Undertale. Deltarune is a completely different story.

[image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. in the left screenshot, Kris looks under their sink and the narration text box says: “A can of Ice-E’s Cool Boys Body Spray ‘Spray For The Boys,’ Flamin’ Hot Pizza Flavor.” In the right screenshot, Kris reads a chart in the hospital. The narration text box says: “(It’s a classic 1-to-10 pain scale, using ICE-E as a model.)” End image transcript.]

In Deltarune chapter 1 we find numerous references and bits of foreshadowing for Ice-E and, lo and behold, we see that Ice-E’s restaurant exists in Hometown at the end of chapter 1. And notice how it’s multiple references and not just a one-off like last time.

In every example of foreshadowing listed above we’re given more than one hint of a character’s presence, and so far Everyman fits this same pattern. This makes me feel safe in assuming he will have a bigger role in the full game.

Everyman’s Importance

What’s interesting is that in Chapter 1, Everyman appears in both the light and dark worlds. So far Deltarune has kept the light and dark worlds largely separate from one another, with only Kris and Susie traveling between them (as far as we know).

Everyman’s presence in both worlds implies that either he can travel between both worlds as well, or at least that lightners and darkners are both familiar with him.

Based on what we know, I’d wager that Everyman is a lightner—specifically, a monster.  I say this for two reasons: 1.) so far we’ve only seen lightners (Kris and Susie) travel between both worlds, and 2.) this would explain Everyman’s appearance as one of Reaper Bird’s attacks in Undertale’s True Lab.

Why did Everyman appear in the True Lab?

The worlds of Undertale and Deltarune are connected. Toby has all-but-confirmed this himself.

[Image transcript: A screenshot from the official Deltarune website’s question-and-answer page. The question says “So there’s no connections between the two games?”. The answer says “It’s a different world that might even have different rules. That doesn’t mean there will be no connections at all though.” End image transcript.]

One major connection between Undertale and Deltarune is their largely-shared cast of characters. Many major characters from Undertale make an appearance in Deltarune’s first chapter, and Toby has shown that at least some characters from Deltarune’s universe have counterparts in the Undertale universe as well.

The Undertale Alarm Clock App makes reference to Rudolph Holiday living in the Underground some time prior to the events of Undertale.

[Image transcript: A dialogue box where Asgore says “Rudy... loved the holidays, you know.” End image transcript.]

This dialogue also strongly implies that Undertale’s universe has a counterpart for Noelle.

[Image transcript: Another dialogue box from Asgore. He says: “With a warm slice of fruitcake on the table. His youngest daughter peeking shyly from around the corner...” End image transcript]

Depending on how one interprets the Clamgirl NPC’s dialogue, there may or may not be an Undertale version of Susie (aka “Suzy”) too.

[Image transcript: Two Undertale screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, Clamgirl tells Frisk: “Synchronicity...? My neighbor’s daughter looks about your age.” In the right screenshot her dialogue continues: “Her name is ‘Suzy.’ I feel like you two should be friends.” End image transcript.]

I’d argue that Everyman also had a “counterpart” in Undertale’s universe who lived as a monster in the Underground. Much like Rudy, the Underground’s Everyman likely grew old and eventually “fell down”. But unlike Rudy, Everyman was sent to the True Lab for the royal scientist’s soul experiments and became part of the Reaper Bird amalgamate.

This would fit with the pattern that we see with most other amalgamates, namely that they each seem to be made up of one named/noteworthy monster combined with several other generic monsters. The formula goes like this:

Lemon Bread = Shyra (Shyren’s Sister) + Aaron + Moldbygg

Endogeny = Muttler + various dog enemies

Snowdrake Mother = Crystal (Snowdrake’s Mom) + Vegetoids(?)

Reaper Bird = Everyman + Astigmatism + Whimsalot + Final Froggit

The Memoryheads seem to not “fit” with the other amalgamates, perhaps intentionally, so I’ll leave them out for now.

Long story short: Everyman was most likely a monster since he was part of an amalgamate and (as far as we know) amalgamates can only be made of monsters.

Why Everyman will have a bigger role in Deltarune

We see in Deltarune that three of the monsters who became amalgamates in Undertale have since passed away. This fits a trend I’ve noticed of Toby trying to “explain” the absence of characters who are prominent in one of his games but not the other.

The examples I cited above of Rudy, Noelle, and (possibly) Susie existing in Undertale’s universe also serve as “excuses” for where those characters were and why they were absent from the events of Undertale’s story. Rudy was dead and Noelle and “Suzy” were living with their families (presumably) in parts of the Underground where Frisk never ventured.

Shyra, Muttler, and Crystal are similarly “excused” from Deltarune’s story when the graveyard informs the player of their passing. Gerson is likewise excluded from Deltarune due to having passed away before the events of the game.

Conveniently, Everyman is not listed among the amalgamate monsters who have passed away in Hometown, and the alleyway graffiti implies he’s alive and well.

We know that Deltarune’s timeline and character ages don’t match up perfectly with Undertale’s—Deltarune Asriel is still alive and slightly older than Kris, who’s roughly the same age as DR Monster Kid. Conversely, Undertale Asriel died long before Frisk entered the Underground, yet Frisk is still seemingly in the same age bracket as UT Monster Kid (who’s barely younger than Asriel in Deltarune). Like Rudy, we can assume that Deltarune’s Everyman is younger than the Everyman who “fell down” in the Underground.

What will Everyman’s role be?

Remember when I said this was a two-part theory? Well, here’s the second half of my theory: Everyman is the Knight.

[Image transcript: A text box that says “Yes, you read that correctly.” End image transcript.]

Yes, the same Knight mentioned by Seam, Jevil, and the King of Spades. The same Knight who’s pulling new dark fountains out of the earth and who’s implied to be a major antagonist in the full game.

I could hedge my bets by saying Everyman is merely “connected” to the Knight, but if the Knight is a character we already know of then I think Everyman is the most likely candidate.

Let’s start with the name: Everyman’s sprites are titled “strangeman” in Undertale’s files. The very first mention we get of the Knight in Deltarune is Seam describing a “strange knight” who appeared, complete with red font for emphasis.

[Image transcript: Seam speaking inside of a shop, saying: “But, recently, a strange knight appeared... And three of the kings were locked away.” End image transcript.]

The word “strange” seems to be used selectively and very deliberately in Deltarune’s first chapter. Here’s a breakdown of all the times it’s used:

Seam referring to the knight

Seam referring to the Knight’s “strange son” (more on that later)

Telling Seam about Jevil (”Strange Prisoner”)

Seam referring to the “strange someone” that Jevil met

Seam mentioning the “strange words” Jevil said

Rouxls Kaard referring to Lancer (”a strange and irritating darling!”)

Narration before Kris seals the dark fountain (”You felt something strange.”)

Flavor text during the Jevil fight (”Kris gazed strangely”)

The Devilsknife/Jevilstail appearing in a “strange chest” outside of Jevil’s cell upon defeating him (this may be dummied out or only triggers if your inventory is full of weapons/armors and Jevil can’t give his item to you)

The description of the key to Jevil’s cell (”something feels strange about it”)

With the exception of the line from Rouxls Kaard, every instance of “strange” somehow connects to the Knight or Jevil. If the Knight is indeed the “strange someone” who Jevil met then the list tightens even further, to the point where all but one use of the word “strange” is associated with a single character and his handiwork—a very “strange man”, as it were. Speaking of Jevil...

Jevil’s connection to the Knight and Everyman

Jevil’s fight is one of two places where Everyman appears in Deltarune chapter 1. Not only that, but Everyman’s sprite only appears as a rare event during Jevil’s carousel attack, implying that his appearance is somehow significant.

Interestingly enough, the other two sprites that appear during this attack are one with a head that vaguely resembles Mysteryman (believed to be Gaster) and another with the head of a horse, a.k.a. the same as a knight piece on a chess board. It’s also worth pointing out that it’s rarer for the Everyman sprite to appear than it is for either of the other two sprites to appear.

We can also see the Everyman sprite represented in the official Chaos Revolving Keychain from Fangamer.

Jevil mentions the Knight once you defeat him, showing that he has knowledge of his existence.

[Image transcript: Jevil saying “THE HAND OF THE KNIGHT IS DRIFTING FORWARD.” End image transcript.]

This is interesting since Seam’s dialogue implies that Jevil was imprisoned well before the Knight overthrew the three kings at Card Castle. I can think of three possible explanations for this seeming timeline discrepancy:

Jevil is somehow intrinsically “aware” of things that go on outside of his cell

The Knight or someone else visited Jevil in jail to tell him about what happened with the three kings

The Knight is the same “strange someone” that Jevil met before he was locked up

The first explanation is the least likely, imo, due to Jevil asking who Kris, Ralsei, and Susie are when he first meets them.

[Image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, Jevil is talking to the fun gang and he says: “BUT LO, THREE VISITORS STANDING INSIDE?” This continues in the right screenshot, where Jevil says: “WHO ARE YOU FEW?” End image transcript.]

If Jevil was aware of the outside world then he’d surely know of the fun gang’s antics by that point.

The second explanation doesn’t seem very likely either. Seam is the only character who acknowledges Jevil’s existence and we never see Seam visit Card Castle, even after the Spade King has been overthrown.

[Image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, Jack Person tells the fun gang: “By the by, I asked Seam to come here, but...” Continuing onto the right screenshot, where Jack Person finishes by saying “There wasn’t any interest.” End image transcript.]

Jevil’s cell doesn’t seem to have any guards and it’s kept on its own floor, so that would rule out Jevil hearing about the knight from other prisoners.

If someone in the castle brings food to Jevil then he may have overheard it from them, but even that is speculative. Does Jevil even need to eat? He says his body “cannot be killed,” after all.

[Image transcript: Jevil saying “THIS BODY CANNOT BE KILLED!” End image transcript.]

And I’m not sure if the King of Spades would be so accommodating towards a dangerous prisoner.

That just leaves the third explanation, which seems the most likely to me. It’s also the tidiest explanation for how Jevil would be aware of both the Knight and Everyman—they’re the same person.

We can only speculate as to why the “strange someone” caused Jevil to run amok. If that strange someone was the Knight then I would assume that setting Jevil loose may have been his attempt to overthrow or destabilize Card Castle’s leadership. We know that the Knight eventually overthrew the three other kings himself, so that may have been his plan B after Jevil failed or he merely wished to remove Jevil as an obstacle. Either way, the Knight toppled the quadrumvirate and installed the Spade King as the protector of Card Castle’s dark fountain.

The Spade King’s clue

The Spade King is the closest ally of the Knight that we’ve seen so far. The exact nature of their relationship isn’t fully known, but the King’s words imply that he reveres and is loyal to the Knight.

[Image description: Four Deltarune screenshots arranged in a grid. In the top-left, the King of Spades says “By the Knight’s will, I shall shatter your heart to pieces!”. In the top-right, the King says “For the KNIGHT has appeared.” In the bottom-left, the King says “The KNIGHT that pulls the Fountains from the Earth.” In the bottom-right, the King says “My KNIGHT... I shall not fail you...” End image transcript.]

Both characters share an interest in maintaining the existence of dark fountains, given that the Knight has been said to create new fountains by pulling them up from the Earth.

Unlike Jevil, the Spade King’s attacks never make explicit reference to Everyman’s visage, but he does give a possible nod that many players have overlooked. When the Spade King is defeated, he makes a curious gesture by letting his cloak fly away like a butterfly.

While this may be a simple artistic flourish, I always found this moment to be odd and unfitting for a brutish character like the King. It’s also worth pointing out how the King’s cloak is clearly not a part of his body, unlike what’s implied with Lancer’s “clothes”.

[Image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, the battle narration says: “You tell Lancer you can’t tell the difference between his clothes and his body.” The narration continues in the right screenshot, saying “He seems flattered... His ATTACK POWER went down!” End transcript.]

What if the King didn’t always have that butterfly-shaped cloak? Did someone give it to him? Think of where else we’ve seen butterfly motifs before.

At first blush, this seems obvious—the Reaper Bird is clearly made from the Core mercenaries, including Whimsalot. Whimsalot attacks with butterfly bullets, so that’s where Reaper Bird got them from, right? Case closed. Well, not so fast.

It turns out there are two different sets of butterfly bullets in Undertale’s game files, and Reaper Bird’s are different from Whimsalot’s.

[Image transcript: Two groups of butterfly bullet sprites. The left group is labeled “Whimsun / Whimsalot.” The right group is labeled “Reaper Bird”. End image transcript.]

Notice how Reaper Bird’s butterflies are smaller and have pointier, more symmetrical wings? While those differences could be chalked up to limited pixel resolution, it’s interesting how Toby went out of his way to create an entirely unique set of butterfly bullets for Reaper Bird when it arguably would have made more sense for him to recycle the Whimsun butterflies like he did for Whimsalot.

If you want to compare the sprites for yourself I suggest either looking at the game files directly or looking at an actual playthrough of Undertale. I’ve noticed that Spriter’s Resource mistakenly has Reaper Bird’s butterflies listed under Whimsun’s sprite sheet (which is a completely understandable mix-up).

To drive the point home, notice the string names that are used for these butterflies:

[Image transcript: An UTModTool window showing multiple named strings. Highlighted in red are six strings that each contain “obj_strangeman_butterfly” in their names. End image transcript.]

They’re “strangeman” butterflies. Not “amalgamate” or “Reaper Bird” butterflies (despite Reaper Bird having its own share of dedicated strings and named sprites), and they’re not “Whimsalot” butterflies either. Toby clearly delineates them as belonging to strangeman, a.k.a. Everyman, meaning that Everyman is specifically associated with butterfly imagery. The Spade King also makes use of butterfly imagery immediately after he mentions the Knight in his final turn.

Between the King and Jevil, this makes two characters that can be linked to both Everyman and the Knight.

Additional Evidence

Let’s circle back to Reaper Bird for a second. It’s commonly known that this amalgamate is made from Astigmatism, Final Froggit, and Whimsalot. To wit:

These enemies are part of the mercenary group that Mettaton hires to attack you in the Core. Have you ever noticed how out-of-place they seem? Almost every other set of enemies in the game is somehow themed around their environment — Snowdin enemies are ice creatures, Hotland enemies are fire/lava-themed, etc. These mercenaries are themed around medieval warfare and yet they show up in the Core, the most high-tech area in the entire Underground.

What’s even stranger is that this medieval theme seems to come out of nowhere. Astigmatism, Final Froggit, and Whimsalot act as “upgraded” versions of Loox, Froggit, and Whimsun, respectively. And yet their Ruins counterparts don’t have any medieval theming whatsoever—it was added purely for the mercenaries. For whatever reason they’re all dressed like a bunch of wizards and... knights.

[Image transcript: Two Undertale screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, a Core NPC says “Why do I look like a black sausage and not a knight or a wizard?” This continues on the right, where it says “Well... Everyone has an angle they look best from.” End image transcript.]

That’s not my interpretation of their designs—the game outright calls them knights.

On the one hand, it’s true that Asgore’s royal guards also dress up like knights, but the Core mercenaries are explicitly not part of the royal guard—they’re mercenaries.

[Image transcript: Battle flavor text that states “Mercenaries emerge from the shadows.” End image transcript.]

Assuming that Asgore has a dress code for his guards or is just old-fashioned in his sensibilities, there’s still no reason why fighters outside of the guard should follow their standard. Even some of the royal sentries don’t follow this theming, as seen with Doggo and Sans (who’s technically a sentry):

With the abundance of knight-themed royal guard and sentry enemies that exist already, Toby could’ve easily designed the Core Mercenaries to more accurately fit with the Core’s futuristic theme. Doesn’t it seem a little too coincidental that Everyman would wind up as part of the same amalgamate as these otherwise out-of-place knights?

When we look at the other amalgamates, we can see that Lemon Bread (a.k.a. Shyren’s sister) is made up of Waterfall enemies. Endogeny is made up entirely of dog-based enemies. These two amalgamates each have a “theme” for their component monsters that fits the “main” named monster they’re each made of, and Reaper Bird has a clear theme of its own. Why would Everyman be paired with a bunch of knights if he was not connected to them in some way?

Even the Undertale artbook groups Everyman’s concept art with the Core Mercenaries, specifically the ones that look the most like knights and wizards in-game. The book also repeats the name “Everyman” and Toby’s cryptic phrase of “Just a good guy who shows up on occasion.”

Perhaps Everyman knew the Core mercenaries when he was alive? Were they his fellow knights? Or did they work for him before he fell down and they had to then lend their services elsewhere?

“The Knight? Seriously?”

Some of you may be shaking your heads dismissively at the idea of Everyman being the Knight (or you more likely clicked over to another tab by now). I mean, just look at the guy:

What part of this design makes you think “knight”, let alone THE Knight? Well, Seam does refer to the Knight as a “strange” knight, and Everyman certainly fits that bill. But more importantly, we haven’t seen an actual overworld sprite for Everyman yet—we’ve only seen some graffiti and a couple of magic bullet attacks, which are always abstract and simplified.

Not pictured: Froggit, Migosp, Temmie, Moldbygg, Tsunderplane, Mettaton, or Endogeny.

Everyman’s “proper” design would almost certainly differ from his Pillsbury Doughboy-esque bullet sprite, especially if he’s wearing a cloak or a suit of armor. And even if his design doesn’t differ that much, so what? It’s not like this series has ever had an opponent that looks goofy or non-threatening, right?

Another little tidbit I noticed: one of Reaper Bird’s attacks consists of Everyman repeatedly removing his own head.

Or maybe it’s not his head? Perhaps it’s a helmet? Like one that a knight would wear? After all, it’s not unheard of for helmets to have beak-like protrusions.

And this is a series where helmets can come in any shape or size to better fit the needs of the wearer.

Just some food for thought.

The Gaster connection

It’s time to address the elephant in the room: “Isn’t Gaster supposed to be the Knight?” If you haven’t heard by now, this is one of the prevailing theories in the fandom. To be honest, if the Knight ends up not being Everyman then Gaster is the next-best candidate, imo, but these two theories don’t have to be mutually-exclusive. I think a case can be made that Everyman and Gaster are connected in some way.

Let me say up front that this section is highly speculative (unlike the previous sections, which clearly aren’t the least bit speculative). We’re dealing with two super-obscure characters who’ve yet to make a proper on-screen appearance in either game. It’s already hard enough to figure out how either of them connect to the broader Undertale universe, let alone to each other, but I’ll give it a shot.

For starters, we can affirm that both Gaster and Everyman are linked to the True Lab. There’s no shortage of fan theories and speculation on Gaster’s prior usage of the True Lab in his own experiments and I won’t get into all that here, but suffice it to say the True Lab has Gaster’s name written all over it.

(Am I the only one who thinks the DT Extractor looks more like Everyman’s head than it does a Gaster Blaster? Forget I said anything.)

We’ve covered how Everyman appears as one of Reaper Bird’s attacks. Interestingly, the amalgamate Memoryhead has an attack that resembles the head of Mysteryman, the figure believed to be Gaster (which I’ll assume here for simplicity’s sake).

If we follow the logic of my prior “Everyman is the named/important monster that makes up Reaper Bird, fitting the pattern of other amalgamates” argument, then Gaster (or pieces of him) could fill the same role for the Memoryheads.

Everyman and Gaster’s sprites both have the suffix of “man” in Undertale’s game files. Here are all the sprites that use this same naming scheme:

strangeman - Everyman

mysteryman - “Gaster”

snowman - gives you the snowman piece

riverman - a.k.a. River Person

darkman - the shadowy overworld sprites used for the Core Mercenaries

watchingman - The spoon-shaped amalgamate that tucks Frisk into bed

The snowman’s inclusion is a bit of a fluke, because what else would you call a snowman without using “man” in the name? If we exclude the snowman, each instance of “man” represents a mysterious figure that ties back to Everyman and/or Gaster.

We’ve already covered the connection between Everyman and the Core Mercenaries, and it’s easy to connect the “watchingman” amalgamate with the True Lab. River Person is also frequently linked to Gaster in fan theories (and they allude to “the man from the other world” and “the man who speaks in hands”), so what we’re left with is a close-knit community of strange, mysterious "man”s.

This naming scheme looks very intentional on Toby’s part, and he seems to be continuing it in Deltarune by referring to the secret unseen NPC who gives you the egg behind the tree in Scarlet Forest as simply “a man.”

[Image transcript: Narration from the secret egg room. The text box states: “(Well, there is a man here.)” End image transcript]

The Knight’s “Strange Son”?

Remember when I said I’d get back to the Knight’s “strange son”? That’s now. I’m a little iffy on this topic because it involves stacking a whole ton of assumptions onto a single line of dialogue that’s phrased in an ambiguous way. But, if it means what I think it means, it could shed a ton of light on Everyman’s possible connection to Gaster and whether either of them are the Knight.

When you ask Seam about the “Kingdom”, Seam says this:

[Image transcript: Three of Seam’s text boxes arranged vertically. In order, they read: “Historically, this land was ruled by the Four Kings, from CARD CASTLE to the East. But, recently, a strange knight appeared... And three of the kings were locked away. The remaining king put him and his strange son into power.” End image transcript]

Let’s focus on that last sentence. On my first playthrough I misread this line as “the knight put the king and his strange son into power” because that sounds a lot closer to the events that happened—the Spade King and his “strange son” Lancer are in power now because the three kings were locked away, presumably by the Knight.

But the actual text states the opposite—the remaining king (Spade King) put him (the Knight) and his strange son (i.e., the Knight’s son) into power. Or does it? The line could also read as—the remaining king (Spade King) put him (the Knight) and his (the King’s) strange son (Lancer) into power. The second way is  awkwardly-structured but technically valid. And this is assuming that Toby didn’t make any grammatical errors when he typed these lines, which he has done on occasion.

[Image transcript: A dialogue box where Dr. Alphys says “I felt so guilty knowing I hadn’t do anything to stop you.” End image transcript.]

Not to be too hard on Toby, but even if Seam’s line is grammatically correct it’s still clunky and murky in its conception—at this point in the game we’ve only just been introduced to Lancer and the fact that his dad is the King, and now this line is potentially introducing yet another father/son duo that is closely connected with Lancer’s dad—is it any wonder that this line is often glossed over by fans?

The second reading, where Lancer is the “strange son,” is also awkward because the Spade King would have little need to put Lancer “into power”. Lancer was already a prince and, presumably, already wielded power in that role. Various NPCs make reference to Lancer bossing them around, and such a thing could’ve easily happened before the three kings were deposed.

If we take Seam’s line with the first reading (where the Knight has a “strange son”) and assume there were no grammatical errors, then this is the only time in chapter 1 that the Knight is ever referred to as having a son. It’s also the only time that the Knight is addressed with pronouns, implying that the Knight is male. If true, this would rule out the theory that Kris (or any potential alter ego that Kris has) is the knight, since Kris is neither male nor do they have a son. This would also rule out Susie, who’s never been a popular contender for being the Knight but is referred to as a “dark knight” on her stats page.

Who made who?

So then, who’s male, widely believed to be the Knight, and is often depicted as having one or more sons?

This (alleged) guy!

“But wait,” you might ask, “isn’t your theory that Everyman is the Knight?” Well, the Knight and his “strange son” seem to be working as a duo in the scenario that Seam outlines, given that the Spade King put both of them “into power.”

Because of Everyman’s connections to the Knight that I’ve laid out, plus the more popular theory that Gaster is the Knight, it’s possible that one may be the Knight and the other may be the Knight’s “strange son.” The way I see it, it doesn’t make a huge difference which one is which.

Now, I don’t think that Gaster and Everyman would be father and son in the strict biological sense. There are a number of reasons for this, but for starters I’m not even sure if Everyman and Gaster are the same species. My inclination is that Everyman is a monster, while Gaster may be a darkner. The latter is mostly my own guess and springboards off of a popular theory that Sans is a darkner, but it’s a whole other can of worms that I won’t get into now.

More importantly, Gaster is strongly implied to have some sort of connection to Sans and Papyrus. All three of them are also connected with special fonts that they each use. As far as I can tell, there’s no widely-used font by the name of “Everyman”, so this would imply that Everyman is not a skeleton and therefore not biologically related to them. However, there’s more than one way to start a family.

Gaster was the royal scientist in Undertale’s universe and it’s not out of the realm of possibility that he (or his potential Deltarune counterpart) could find the means to create life forms artificially.

[Image transcript: The vessel creation scene from Deltarune. The on-screen text says “YOU HAVE CREATED A WONDERFUL FORM.” End image transcript.]

Everyman could be a creation of Gaster’s and thus he’d be Gaster’s “son”.

There’s also another possibility: Everyman is Gaster’s creator. We know that the Knight is pulling new dark fountains out of the Earth. I think the Knight, regardless of who they are, must be able to survive without a dark fountain to give their body form, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to venture into areas where new fountains have yet to be pulled up. The Knight is almost certainly a lightner, and I’ve already detailed why I think Everyman is a lightner as well.

We don’t fully understand how dark fountains interact with darkners, but it’s stated multiple times that dark fountains “give form” to the Dark World.

[Image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, Ralsei’s narration says “Today the FOUNTAIN OF DARKNESS-” and continues into the right screenshot, saying: “The geyser that gives this land form-” End image transcript.]

In the dummied-out manual pages, Ralsei also mentions how his dark fountain gives his body form.

[Image transcript: Ralsei’s manual excerpt, whic says “Dedicated to The unending pillar of darkness that gives my body form.” End image transcript]

Darkners need dark fountains in order to maintain their forms. They may not even be able to survive at all without them. From this point of view, when the Knight creates new dark fountains he’s bringing new darkners to life. If Gaster is a darkner himself, then it’s not unthinkable to imagine that Everyman may have brought him to life in this way and could thus be called his “father”. Seam does refer to lightners as the “creators” of darkners, after all.

[Image transcript: Seam’s dialogue box saying “They were like Gods to us. Our protectors. Our creators. Those who gave us purpose...” End image transcript.]

Ultimately the question of who’s the father and who’s the son is purely speculative. We don’t even know for sure if the Knight has a son, let alone whether it’s Everyman, Gaster, or someone else entirely. It’s very much a “the chicken or the egg?” kind of question.

[Image transcript: Two images. The right is a screenshot of the egg room with narration stating “(You received an Egg)”. End image transcript.]

Hmm...

“Seriously, who is Everyman?”

Let’s bring this home with the question we started with: Who is Everyman? I’ve gone into evidence that he existed as an actual person in Undertale and will likely play a role in Deltarune, but this doesn’t tell us much about the kind of character he is. We don’t even know if “Everyman” is his real name.

If Everyman is indeed a prominent character in Deltarune then there are two possibilities: 1.) he’s a brand new character we’ve never met before, or 2.) he’s someone that we have met before. The first option, while a strong possibility, doesn’t leave us with much to talk about, so let’s look at the second.

Right out the gate I can confidently say that Everyman is not a character that we talked to or had significant interaction with in Undertale. The obvious reason is that he was busy being stuck inside Reaper Bird and he couldn’t have been in two places at once (as far as we know). This means that Everyman would have to be a character introduced in Deltarune chapter 1.

I’ve said before that I believe Everyman is a lightner, so this would rule out any dark world characters. That leaves us with the residents of Hometown who didn’t have direct counterparts in Undertale’s story.

After careful consideration I’ve narrowed the field to two suspects:

Father Alvin

Father Alvin has always struck me as an oddity. He seems like an important member of Hometown’s community, and yet none of the other residents ever talk about him. He’s also conspicuously absent from Undertale’s universe.

The most notable thing about Father Alvin is that his church seems to worship “the Angel”.

[Image transcript: Father Alvin saying “Let the Angel’s power light your way.” End image transcript.]

Ralsei’s prophecy states that the three heroes must seal the dark fountains in order to banish the “Angel’s Heaven.”

[Image transcript: Two Deltaunre screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, Ralsei’s narration says “Only they can seal the fountains.” The right screenshot continues, saying: “And banish the ANGEL’S HEAVEN.” End image transcript.]

This would put the heroes at odds with both the Knight (who’s creating fountains) and whoever is serving this Angel. We can only speculate on the Knight’s motives, but what if he’s acting in service to the Angel?

Something that isn’t brought up much in the fandom is the religious reverence that darkners give to their fountains. The King of Spades refers to the fountains that the Knight creates as “holy” fountains.

[Image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, the King of Spades says “Holy Fountains, whose shadows are creating a new world...” The right screenshot continues, saying “OUR world.” End image transcript.]

The soundtrack that plays at the Fountain is called “The Holy.” Dark fountains can seemingly create life, so it’s easy to imagine the Knight viewing his own mission as some sort of holy rite.

As far as evidence goes for Alvin being Everyman/the Knight, the biggest clue is the drawing signed by Alvin that shows up in the supply closet at the end of chapter 1.

Every other object in the closet represents a part of the dark world that Kris and Susie visited, and yet at no point do they encounter a dark world manifestation of this drawing. We know that the Knight visited Card Castle previously, so this drawing could be meant to represent the Knight’s presence in that part of the dark world.

It’s also worth noting how most of the closet’s toys are arranged from left to right in the order that Kris and Susie encountered them on their journey. Alvin’s drawing is on the far right, just past the open cabinet drawer (i.e., Card Castle), implying that Alvin’s drawing was either at the fountain or that it was effectively the “next” thing that Kris and Susie would’ve encountered if they had stayed.

It’s hard to make out what the drawing could be beyond being a “poorly-drawn picture of a green turtle”, as the flavor text explains. Could it be Everyman? Or is it just a reference to Bold and Brash? Both? Neither? The world may never know. Or it may know when the full game comes out.

Can I also add how strange it is that Alvin’s drawing is in the closet to begin with? Alvin looks to be a pretty old dude, so why would his drawing still be in a school that he no longer attends? I don’t have an answer, I just think it’s weird.

Other clues that could point to Alvin being Everyman are that he is, scientifically speaking, old-looking, which would line up with my hypothesis of Undertale’s Everyman being an older monster who fell down before becoming Reaper Bird.

Alvin also vaguely resembles Everyman as far as their proportions are concerned.

It’s by no means a perfect match, especially if we factor in Alvin’s shell, but both characters possess a round head with some sort of beak or proboscis.

If Everyman actually is Father Alvin, then the title “Everyman” could be a reference to The Summoning of Everyman, a 15th-century religious morality play. I won’t get into the specifics here, but the play focuses on a character named Everyman who must prepare for his inevitable death and judgment for his deeds in life. I don’t really know how much that would tie into Deltarune’s themes or if it’s even a deliberate reference to begin with, so make of it what you will.

Father Alvin was the first character that I suspected of being Everyman when I started writing this theory, but there’s one major sticking point that prevents me from fully embracing the idea: the fact that he lacks a character portrait for his dialogue boxes.

This may seem like a minor nitpick, but dialogue portraits indicate when a character is important to the story, and it would be a pretty big oversight on Toby’s part if a (presumably) recurring antagonist wasn’t given a portrait. Even a three-scene wonder like Rouxls Kaard was given a portrait.

It’s true that recurring characters like Napstablook and Monster Kid weren’t given portraits in Undertale...

But Deltarune has greatly expanded the number of characters with portraits this time around, and we can already infer that Noelle (who had a portrait in chapter 1) will be an important character going forward:

Given Alvin’s limited dialogue in chapter 1 and his lack of a portrait, I’m more inclined to believe that he’ll end up being a minor character, in which case he’d almost certainly not be the Knight (and therefore not Everyman). But who knows, maybe Toby will give him a portrait in the full game.

Thankfully, we have another candidate who might be Everyman:

The Ice-E’s Employees

You think I’m joking? Trust me, you’ll know when I’m joking.

I didn’t initially make the connection between Ice-E’s and Everyman until I saw a post from @curioscurio​ that pointed me in that direction.

Let’s go back to the Everyman graffiti that appears in Hometown.

Notice how the drawing right next to it resembles Ice-E’s head? I can’t believe this was staring me in the face the whole time and I never realized the connection.

Another point in favor of the Ice-E’s workers is that we don’t even know what two of them look like. We know that Burgerpants is one, and another is implied to be the Nice Cream Bunny that we met in Undertale.

[Image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, the Ice-E’s employee says “Psst, can I tell you a mascot secret? I only started working here because...” The right screenshot continues, saying “The logo made me think it was an ice-cream shop...” End image transcript.]

But this still leaves the “purple guy” and “The Warrior”, who remain in full costume for chapter 1, meaning that one of them could resemble Everyman underneath their mask.

Speaking of The Warrior, he certainly fits the bill as being “strange.” His title wouldn’t be out of place among the likes of The Knight, and his dialogue refers to the hospital’s medical staff as “white wizards”, which fits with the medieval theming that’s associated with Everyman’s mercenary cohorts in Undertale.

[Image transcript: Two Deltarune screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, the Warrior says “This castle’s WHITE WIZARDs relegated me to this HEALING CHAMBER...” The right screenshot continues, saying “But my BLOOD is BOILING FOR BATTLE!!!” End image transcript.]

Speaking of the Core Mercenaries, here’s an interesting tidbit:

[Image transcript: Two Undertale screenshots side-by-side. In the left screenshot, a Core NPC says “As a youth, I would sneak out to play by this creepy flaming pit.” The right screenshot continues, saying “Since the CORE is always re-arranging, it was like a game trying to find it.” End image transcript.]

I used to assume that the Core Mercenaries were older monsters who fought in the human-monster war, which would explain their insistence on dressing up as old-timey knights and wizards. However, these lines of dialogue imply that the Mercenaries are far younger—young enough to visit the Core when they were kids.

So why would a bunch of younger monsters dress up like old-school knights and wizards? Simple: they’re LARPers. This would explain why their more casual overworld dialogue doesn’t match their overly-serious battle dialogue whatsoever—the battle is over and, thus, so is the act.

What does this have to do with Ice-E’s? Simple. The Warrior is also a LARPer. But he takes it a step further and never lets the act slip. According to Burgerpants, he terrorizes customers with war chants during his day job, and we see him keeping up the act while he’s injured in the hospital. It’s clear that he’s living in a fantasy world, and someone like that would have every reason to spend time in a strange dark world that “seems like” fantasy.

[Image transcript: Lyrics from Deltarune’s credits theme. It says: “And the places that you know seem like fantasy”. End image transcript.]

Someone like him could grow attached to such a place and want to see it spread as far and wide as possible, with no regard for how it would affect the boring “real world”. All he’d need to do is create new dark fountains to sustain this fantasy world.

I also find it interesting that The Warrior is in the hospital during chapter 1. Burgerpants claims that this is the result of “pizza-related injuries.”

[Image transcript: Two dialogue boxes from Burgerpants. Read from top to bottom, it says “The Warrior - Thankfully absent due to pizza-related injuries. Constantly terrorizing customers with war chants.” End image transcript.]

But what if there was another reason? We can see signs of “some kind of struggle” in the King of Spade’s throne room, complete with tattered wall banners.

[Image transcript: Narration in the Spade King’s throne room. The text box says “(Wall banners. They seem to have been through some kind of struggle...)” End image transcript.]

What if the Knight sustained injuries when he overthrew the three kings and had to go to the hospital afterwards? A “struggle” implies that there was some resistance involved.

Another interesting coincidence is that the previews for Deltarune Chapter 2 strongly imply that it will take place in a dark world that forms in the hospital.

Earlier previews have also implied that Noelle will have a larger role in Chapter 2, and she’d have every reason to be in the hospital visiting her father when things hit the fan.

It feels awfully convenient that a new dark world springs up right in the spot where the Warrior is. I wouldn’t be surprised if chapter 2 gives us our first glimpse of the Knight in person, and what better way than a surprise run-in with the Warrior?

Some of you may be asking why I’d suggest a minor character like The Warrior might be the Knight when he has a single line of dialogue and no dialogue portrait? Simple: characters tend not to have portraits when their face is hidden from view. We see this with Undyne in Undertale:

She doesn’t gain a dialogue portrait until after she removes her helmet. This is also true of Burgerpants in Deltarune.

So, unlike Father Alvin, The Warrior has an excuse for not having a dialogue portrait yet. While Father Alvin has some compelling evidence supporting him being the Knight/Everyman, The Warrior has no major counter-argument that I can think of (unlike Father “no portrait” Alvin), so I give The Warrior the edge as far as Everyman suspects go.

I’d also like point out that if Gaster ends up not being the Knight or the Knight’s “Strange Son,” then we could get a two-for-one deal of Father Alvin as the Knight and The Warrior as his strange son. Definitely not the most likely outcome, but technically possible! I’d imagine those two would have a hilariously awkward dynamic if they were related.

Closing Summary

Wow, this post went on for a while! Let’s summarize what we’ve learned today.

Everyman (in Undertale)

Was likely a monster who “fell down”

Became part of the Reaper Bird Amalgamate

Likely knew the Core Mercenaries

Is connected to butterfly imagery

Described as “strange”

May or may not have looked like his bullet sprite

May or may not have been connected to “mysteryman”/Gaster

May or may not have been connected to the River Person

Everyman (in Deltarune)

Is alive and active

Is known to both lightners and darkners

Can most likely travel between the light and dark worlds

Is known of by Jevil

May or may not resemble his Undertale bullet sprite

May or may not be connected to “mysteryman”/Gaster

May or may not be Father Alvin

May or may not be an Ice-E’s employee

May or may not be the Knight or the Knight’s “strange son”

The Knight

Described as “strange”

Is pulling up new dark fountains from the Earth

Has been to the dark world

Is possibly a lightner/monster

Is connected to the Spade King, who uses butterfly imagery

Overthrew the other three kings at Card Castle

Is known of by Jevil and Seam

May or may not be Everyman

May or may not be “mysteryman”/Gaster

May or may not be the “strange someone” who changed Jevil

Likely male

Likely has a “strange son”

Everyman and the Knight (similarities)

Both are likely monsters

Both are alive and active in Deltarune’s world

Both are (presumably) male

Both have a presence in the dark world

Both are known by Jevil and may have met him previously

Both are associated with butterfly imagery to some degree

Both are connected to knight imagery

Both are described as “strange”

Both may be connected to “mysteryman”/Gaster

Both are foreshadowed in Deltarune chapter 1

Final Conclusions

So what do I really think? I’m reminded of Undertale’s original Kickstarter demo and how much of the full game’s story was left out of it. Right now we’re in a similar situation with Deltarune. I can’t view any of my theories with certainty because at the end of the day I have no idea what Toby’s going to write for the full game, but I can guess.

If I had to put a number to it, I’d say the odds of Everyman making further appearances in Deltarune is 95% and the odds of him being the Knight is about 66%. There’s always the possibility that Gaster will usurp the title of Knight and leave Everyman as the Knight’s “strange son” or as the far less illustrious role of “no one particularly important”.

If Everyman is in the game, I’d give 50/50 odds that he’s one of the Ice-E’s employees, mainly due to the Warrior’s situation lining up well with Chapter 2′s (likely) setting. I’d then give a 25% chance it’s Father Alvin and the remaining 25% as “anyone else”.

Thanks for reading all of this (or skipping to the end). I’ve seen hardly anyone talk about our favorite strange little man and I just wanted to get the word about him out there. Even if you don’t agree with my conclusions, I’m happy to (hopefully) ignite further discussion over this often-overlooked character.

For now I’ve said all that I can say on the topic. All we can do is wait and see what happens. Fingers crossed.

Special thanks to @curioscurio​ for inspiring me to make this post in the first place.

Date published: December 10th, 2020

#deltarune #undertale #everyman #undertale theory #gaster

[year2000electronics]

I am very very behind on Deltarune Easter eggs and theory crafting, so um... Where is gaster?? In Deltarune?? Admitadly I did like one playthrough of each chapter and didn't watch a lot of videos,, so I probably missed something, but everyone seems so convinced gaster has something to do with the questions at the beginning and the secret bosses and if it's not too bothersome I'd like some help getting in the loop 👉👈

im the resident gaster enjoyer so let me enlighten you [cracks knuckles]

- the translation for entry no 17 (gasters entry) is in all caps, so we know gaster would speak in all caps if he were not speaking in wingdings

- the actual character maker in the files is called ‘gonermaker’ which all of gaster’s followers are also called ‘goners’- the fact they share the same monochrome colour scheme STRONGLY suggests the vessel has a connection to gaster

- i dont have the tweets with me rn but i believe a lot of the ‘takeover’ tweets on tobys account (done in all caps, spaced out in the style entry no 17 is) have some more dialogue quirks that imply it could be gaster as the overseer of the ‘survey’ 

- both secret bosses never spell out things 100% so its hard to tell exactly what went down but its implied through stuff like seam’s shop dialogue saying that what jevil told them makes the world feel ‘dark yet darker’ (parallel to dark darker yet darker), and an addison says when they checked spamtons phone there was only garbage noise, when you try to do a call in the dark world a dialogue box pops up that says ‘its just garbage noise’- this garbage noise matches with the ambiance that plays during entry no 17 

- its also theorized that gaster is the man who gives you the egg in the optional easter eggs room, since its an event unlocked in a similar fashion to undertale, the room setup is near identical to gasters in undertale, and ‘a man’ is close to ‘mystery man’ which is what gasters sprite is called 

as of rn theres no way to say what gasters intentions are but his presence is definitely here in one way or another: he’s tied more strongly to the vessel creator but the secret bosses are very likely to have interacted with him in some way shape or form 

#mothra answers

[soul-dwelling]

Maybe this is a loaded question, but you mentioned in a few of your recent posts, that soul eater left a lot of gaps that were filled by the creators of fanfics. Do you have any examples of that? Maybe it's just cause many of the most popular ones are SOMA and I dont care for that ship, but do they include elements like the world and exploring things that were teased like atlantis or the other great elders and stuff like that?

Maybe some of what I'm going to list out of bitterness, as a lot of headcanon or hopes for what could one day be explained is getting contradicted by any interpretations that Fire Force suddenly explains Soul Eater stuff. So, I'm going to do my best to not just say "this gap may be filled in by Fire Force for some readers," as that'll become some real tiresome whining on my part.

I'm also going to avoid bringing up stuff that I think never needed an answer (and Fire Force just insists on trying to over-answer for no good reason): "Why are the Sun and the Moon like that?" They just are. "How can madness exist like this?!" It just does. "How are Jack the Ripper, Al Capone, Rasputin, and maybe even JFK now all alive contemporaneously to Maka and company?!" They just are. This is not our world, this is not our timeline--it's theirs. "How can Stein survive with a screw through his head?" I don't know--how come Soul isn't dead after Maka clubbed him in the head that many times?

Wes Evans, Soul's parents, and Soul's grandmother: If they are just there for character motivation for Soul, fine, but it's weird to bring them all up but not pay that off. Wes isn't there at the DWMA when Soul is honored as the last Death Scythe? Soul Eater NOT had an as-of-yet Japanese-exclusive extra volume, which featured a side-story where Anya mentions Soul and Wes once performed for her mother and father--why not tap into more of that family history? (I could also bring up Tsubaki's mom, Liz and Patty's mom, Kilik's home country, but you get the point--these are details that could be expanded upon but aren't. Plus, it's messed up for NOT to just say "Kilik's home country" rather than, you know, actually confirming it.)

Who were all of Lord Death's initial warriors? Again, Fire Force may give this answer to people, but it feels like the story in Soul Eater ran out before it got to delve into this part.

On a related note, though, diving into the personalities of the Death Scythes and their meisters, Dengu and J'inn, is a massive missed opportunity.

And of course, Maka's mother. Maybe you could get away with not showing her or really giving her much personality--we know she's away, we don't need a strong reason for her being away when we already see Maka can handle herself (and, in the anime, the postcards keep coming in), and avoiding Spirit is a fine enough reason for her to not be seen. Or she has been there all along but never in an actual chapter--that can work, too. But it seems like such a middle finger to readers to never do anything with her, even at the end of the series, or in NOT, or the NOT special volume, or much of anything in the anime. And to potentially pay that off in Fire Force--if she magically shows up in the final chapter--is such a cynical cash-grab to get more readers into a series that is ending anyway.

Arachne creating weapons like the Nakasukasa. That sounds like there could be a story there.

What exactly did the Star Clan do that was so bad? I'm not saying we need justification for Lord Death putting them on his kill list, when being assassins can see like reason enough. But we saw Akane and debatably Ao in NOT having some familial ties to the Star Clan, yet they didn't get in trouble like Black Star's family. (This one is probably the detail that pisses me off the most about Fire Force: "Let's take Rekka, who at this point was assumed to be only an Easter Egg referencing Black Star's design and motif, and instead, if we interpret this manga as a prequel, strongly imply he goes on to be progenitor for the entire Star Clan!" ...No. Rekka is a child-abusing dick--don't make this guy anyone's ancestor. I know that one's ancestry doesn't define you, which is Black Star's entire storyline--but if the Star Clan is already bad enough, we don't need to make them any worse by associating them with some asshole who Shinra should have left dead.)

How else has Lord Death's presence shaped international policies? This isn't me starting this up--Ohkubo started this when he had NOT reveal that Japan's prime minister is required to be a graduate from the DWMA. So, how else did Lord Death shape global politics? How and where are Death Scythes placed? Do Death Scythes have someone filling in for them when they travel back to Death City?

Speaking of which, does Azusa have a meister at all when she's not working on DWMA missions? She was wielded by Sid and Kilik--but who else tends to wield her when she's not assigned to whichever meister is available at the time?

And on the topic of international politics, anything more we should learn about Anya's home country?

What are witch family structures like? Kim seems to know witches by name, she still traveled back to witch meetings (with Jackie), but she also wanted to avoid witches as her magic didn't match with their chaos magic. Does Kim have parents?

How exactly do souls works, and how are zombies created? This is a cheat, after I already said, "I don't care how the Sun and the Moon and time work in this series--I just like what I like!" But Sid's creation, and how some bodies disappear after their souls are taken out, is enough of a biological question, especially when that opens the door for potentially more zombies showing up--but never actually showing up.

What was Ragnarok before he was melted down? We know he assumed a weapon form, we know he became Crona’s blood, but how does he relate to the Black Blood in general?

What was the other form of the Mizune Sisters? Medusa killed off one sister before we saw how her combination with her other sisters may have created a form other than the ones we saw during the Kishin revival or elsewhere in the manga.

How exactly are the werewolves the “Immortal Clan” if they evidently did die off?

#long post #ask dwells #spoiler #spoilers

[starlightshore]

why don't you believe gaster is the knight?

This ask is a bit old sorry for never answering because I was lazy

Basically: I believe gaster is mystery man. Gaster stats are 666s, Fun value is 66. Looks like a skeleton,* is the only follower to not have a counterpart, and has a darkworld door.

*which matters because both Papyrus and sans have gasterblasters. Sans has a darkworld door and both break game world physics and are knowledgeable of the game UI. They're strongly hinted to not originate in the undertale world. W.d. Gaster. Wingdings Aster. Come on.

Anyway mystery man has two cracks. The repeating imagery in "???" Has two cracks on each eye. Jevil too has this.

I think gaster summoned the knight, who is the darkness.

Entry number 19: darker yet darker. Shadows cutting deeper. (Light) photon readings negative. (This is paraphrased) gaster is messing with darkness, he is calling onto it.

I feel gaster is too removed from the world to be the knight. He observes things, he is inaccessible to the physical world. The knight is proactive, creating fountains and chaos and believes in the void and it's unreality. That doesn't sound like Gaster's motivations, it sounds like gaster wants to learn more about this mysterious force rather than IS this force. Gaster summons You with the red soul but isn't directly involved. The knight creates and speaks to those who look into the abyss. Gaster only observes through you, only speaking through a survey, an entry, and UI. He's too clinical and scientific, that's not a believer of chaos.

(Tho Toby did say there is order in chaos in the stream. Though, equally notable, all the more intriguing for a man of science to want to study chaos to find the order hidden in...)

Also minor thing: I like the idea that if gaster discovered the knight in darkness that implies the darkness is an older being than him.

Now this is more speculative here on out.

I've heard the theory gaster is called a knight because dark world wouldn't have a term for royal scientist. counter point to that: I feel a MAGE would better fit for him. Science and Magic go hand in hand, both rely on systems. Now granted I know nothing about chess or cards so idk if there's a matching "mage " term that'd fit that.

Lots of use of "man" with Gaster. The tree Easter egg describes him with "he" and "man" and its "mysteyman." Masculine terms. And yet the knight is a "they."

Veeeery much speculative and personal but on the note of gaster fitting mage more than a knight, the two fit the roles as shown in the undertale storybook intro and collector's edition. Like. Why were they so detailed and singled out in that. Why is Poncho in the deltarune story... why is kris' darkworld form a knight. It's extremely suspicious. I swear they're going to be relevant! I just know it.

Heres my perosnal theory. Not fully grounded but this is how I make sense of things.

I think Poncho becomes the mage and the mage becomes gaster. Why trap monsters underground and not kill them? Why have a knight to stand by the mages when sealing the monsters? Wouldn't killing a lot of monsters cause a huge LV? Gerson implies knowledge of the game mechanics loosely and he says it's how he survived the war. That's like, tying the war to the save power and we know gerson had strange... dreams that sound like undertale.

Anyway somehow the LV causes the knight to become inhuman or something, idk, Mage wanted the barrier up and didn't want monsters to die. Maybe because of magic. Idk I'm grasping at straws here because we don't have enough info. I genuinely, genuinely believe there's more to the knight than "It's just Toby being sneaky about writing gaster into deltarune" and I think it ties into the separation and origins of each universe's main conflict. Barriers and Fountains.

I'm onto you. Toby.

EDIT: two additional thoughts! Poncho is shown as a Lightner, directly opposed to darkners. Mage/Gaster being light, the knight being night I mean darkness.

The two being opposites, the need for the TWO of them. They balance each other. Chaos and order. Magic and Science.

You need light to stop the darkness spreading, you are hope and you shine with power. Gaster is what brought you here, he is the torch that carries you, the angel and your light.

#personal stuff #ut talk #ut theory #dr talk #dr theory #its fucking 6am

[stutterfly]

Snow, Don’t Tell (M) | PJM

Granny Park’s Gossip:

Jimin is the sweetest boy around, no comparison. Always ready to listen to my stories, visits me regularly and tells me all sorts of tales about those friends of his. Might as well adopt them all, I know so much about them! Jiminie’s the best grandson anyone could ask for, really, a little angel, and his little gang of friends is quite the hoot. He’s been a little quiet about himself lately, though. Kept going on and on about that neighbor of his, how cute she always looks and how he likes to help her with her groceries, but I think maybe I teased him just a little too much about that crush of his. Maybe he’ll figure out a way to get closer to her this holiday season, because who knows how much longer he’ll pine over the girl if he doesn’t. 

       ❄  Word Count: 27.2k

       ❄ Pairing: Jimin x Reader

       ❄ Genre:  Neighbors AU / Friends to Lovers / Fluff / Smut / Humor

       ❄ Rating: 18+ / Explicit

       ❄ CW and other tags: heavy sexual tension, grinding, groping, swearing, kissing, biting, hair pulling, fingering, masturbation, teasing, edging, hickeys/ bruising skin, oral sex (male and female receiving), praise kink, love kink, mentions of threesome, hinted foursome, penetrative sex, protected sex, pinching, pierced nips, tiddyfucking, dirty filthy talk, whiny Jimin, Jimin is a Snake spilling all the tea about his friends, angst, mentioned alcoholism, mentions of toxic parents, some negative self-talk which is quashed by the prince himself, feelings of self-consciousness, insecurities about education, basically a slowburn speedrun that’s wet and wild, second-hand embarrassment, exhibitionism/voyeurism, Jimin is everyone’s therapist, reader is a mess, jimin is a mess too The Snowball Effect Collab Masterlist  This is the first fic the series/project The Snowball Effect. Please click the link above to see the summaries and genres for each fic! Also, while each of these fics can stand on their own, they all end up at the same place, occurring simultaneously. There are also little easter eggs and secrets for the other fics woven throughout each of these! For the biggest, fluffiest Snowball Effect experience, we highly recommend you read each of them! Do not repost.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

‘Thank you’ is a powerful phrase. It can hold so much joy, affirmation, and even love. True gratitude is more than a word; it's a feeling. It's those unexpected, kind gestures when everything is falling apart: the small smile across the room to ease the tension, the jokes shared to lighten the load of a stressful existence, or the quarters spent drying a neighbor's laundry.

There's nothing quite like being appreciated, nothing quite like someone else being thoughtful for once, nothing quite like someone saying, "I know you didn't have to do it but you did, and I can't express what it means to me." Okay, so sometimes they don't say it, but it's strongly implied.

Around this time each year work grows incredibly stressful. Everyone is trying to push their work onto someone else's desk and leave the office in hopes of enjoying some time with family and friends. Taking off the last two weeks of the year seemed like a no-brainer. So why is it so hard to turn off the screen and actually do that?

Click. Click.

Another email answered, another client getting their response before the new year. Dark, tired eyes lazily drift across the computer screen, fluttering a moment until he catches his head leaning forwards and sits up straight with a shake of his head. How many more emails can there possibly be? Jimin stretches his arms towards the ceiling and slowly rolls onto his back, resting his head against the plush carpet of his living room. Aren't vacations supposed to be a time of relaxation and fun? Isn't he supposed to be able to turn on his out-of-office message, leave the post-it note on his monitor, and trust in his coworkers? A heavy sigh escapes him and a frustrated groan rumbles in his throat. "Why can't I just turn it off?"

Stifling a yawn, he pulls the phone from his pocket to check the time. Six fifteen. Why am I so tired already? Should I get some dinner?

He blinks a few times, feeling his eyelids grow heavier with each pass they make across his eyes. Still holding the phone, his hand slowly descends until the device is pressed flat onto his chest. He's teetering into a dream when the unmistakable jingle of keychains clattering against one another echoes in the hallway. His eyes immediately snap open, and he brings his phone up again. Oh shit. It's Thursday.

The device slips through his fingers and smacks against his forehead. As he rubs his temple to soothe the dull ache beginning to form, he ponders whether the phone is to blame or if work is the true culprit. Resting his head against the plush carpeting, he blankly stares at the ceiling and loses himself in quiet meditation, thoughtlessness consuming every second that passes. A small sound pokes through the barrier of silence, a muffled humming just barely passing through the wall beyond the couch.

Jimin lifts his head just enough to peer down his body, focusing just beyond the laptop at the wall separating his apartment from yours. The humming continues and he curiously tilts his head towards the sound, as though he can make his ears listen harder than they already are. What are you singing tonight, Snow?

He rolls over, twisting his torso just enough to rest on his elbows as he closes his eyes, hoping turning off one sense will heighten the other. Instead, he begins to imagine you frantically ripping off your work clothes in an attempt to enjoy your evening as fast as possible, quickly donning some thin tanktop you've saved as your last article of clean clothing for the week. You're always braless in the laundry room, your cold, hardened nipples poking out from beneath the flimsy fabric stretched tight around your chest. But it's never thin enough to be as transparent as he would like. His tongue darts out to wet his lips briefly before dragging his teeth over his bottom lip.

The humming wavers between louder and softer as you run between rooms, no doubt collecting everything as fast as possible in case he beats you there. Should he let you win this time?

"Baby, you're a fiiiiiiiiirework!" you belt out, very off-key before mumbling the rest of the lyrics you clearly don't know and slowly going back into a hum.

Laughter spills from Jimin's lips like a water fountain in hopes that it's loud enough for you to hear. When you continue on your tune without missing a beat, he leans back, his laughter dissipating into a wide smile as he slowly rises from the floor.

The laundry bin sits by the door, a pitifully small amount of dirty clothes resting in the bottom of it. He presses his lips together a moment before gathering clean clothes from the hangers in his closet and tossing them on the pile. Opening the door, he grabs the basket, casually strolling past your door and down the hall into the laundry room.

No one else seems to do laundry on Thursday nights. It's no doubt why you chose it as the time to do yours. One of the two washers is always busted. Tonight, however, both seem to be functioning. That won’t do. Jimin hoists himself on top of the machines, giving himself enough leverage to unplug the one that’s always falling into disrepair. Luckily the service ticket has been discarded recently. He pulls it from the top of the exposed trash bin in the corner and places it on top of the “broken” washing machine. He quickly starts loading his laundry into the functioning machine, humming the same tune he heard you singing earlier.

You don’t mind working during the holiday season. Everyone has somewhere to go, family to see. You gladly volunteer to work the shifts no one wants to distract yourself from the fact that you don’t. Overtime pay doesn’t hurt either. It’s easier to take your mind off of the disappointment that family-oriented holidays bring when you have cute little customers to send home happy and clean. Unfortunately, you always seem to get filthy in the process of making that happen.

The pile of dirty fabrics layered in your laundry basket tells you that you should probably start a load before showering if you want to have anything semi-clean to wear tomorrow. Plus, if you want to beat your neighbor to the good machine, you’ll need to hustle. Despite the sweat dripping down your neck, you don your favorite zip-up hoodie to attempt to hide the fact that your bra is in the bin with all the other items slated for a good wash.

You catch yourself in the mirror just before picking up the basket, oversized jacket sliding one of your shoulders and exposing your skin to the chill of the apartment. You’re torn between wanting Jimin to see you like this and hoping that you’ll only see him after showering, as you’re fairly certain you still smell like wet dog.

There’s an undeniable tension cutting through the air any time you’re in a room together, but you’re too much of a chickenshit to do anything about it. You’ve convinced yourself that there’s no way someone as perfect-looking as Jimin could be actually interested in you. You want the flirting and the nights spent watching garbage TV together to lead to something real, but fantasizing about how you’d knock on his door simply to confess your attraction is a lot safer than actually doing it.

Down the hall you go, lifting the heavy basket just past the threshold and dragging it across the carpeted hallway. You pop out one of the headphones in your ears so that no one can sneak up on you as you round the corner to the laundry room. Kicking the basket with your foot, it smacks into the door and you awkwardly reach over the pile of clothes to swing it open. The plastic scrapes across the tile and your field of vision travels from the floor to the machine currently filling with water.

Jimin sits on top of the washer with one leg crossed over the other, hands folded around his knee. A smug grin adorns his features as his eyes roam over your form, drinking in the surprise you offer so freely.

"I beat you again this week, Snow," he teases, bouncing his crossed leg a few times with a mischievous tilt of his head.

A puff of hot air passes through your parted lips, clearly not expecting the man to be waiting so patiently for your arrival. Your nose scrunches up in disapproval as you take a few steps towards him, hands on your hips. "You know I get home late on Thursdays. Can't you let me win for once?"

"Oh, you want me to take it easy on you?" He tuts, tongue poking into the side of his cheek for a moment. He uncrosses his legs and uses his palms to lean forward, raising his eyebrows. He pauses once he's inches from your face, letting the shallow space between you build the tension you've become accustomed to. "That doesn't sound like any fun."

You bite your bottom lip, suppressing the urge to close the distance between you. "What sounds like fun to you then?"

The way his smile falters as his eyes fill with devious wonder causes your heart to skip a beat. You swallow hard as his gaze blatantly drops to your chest and his tongue slowly rolls across his lips. Your first instinct is to cover the nipples you know are practically poking holes through your tanktop, but you power through the shame burning your cheeks long enough for his eyes to finish their journey down your body. When they settle on yours again, they definitely seem darker, full of hunger.

"I can think of a few things," he murmurs in a low voice, barely above a whisper. "But they're a secret." He giggles, a shy smile cutting the devilish tone from his words.

It's a deep enough cut through the thick tension that you can take a step back and release the breath you've unknowingly been holding. You roll your eyes and sigh as you note the repair ticket on the machine beside him. "Well, looks like I'll have to wait until you're done." You hoist the basket of dirty laundry onto the seemingly broken washer beside him, carefully taking out the small container of detergent stuffed towards the top. The words come out before you can stop them. "Do you have a big load?"

He drags his teeth over his lips a few times and allows his smile to grow impossibly wider. "You're talking about laundry, right?"

You clumsily fumble with the bottle of detergent until it hits the washer with a loud bang, trying to recover from your poorly-worded question as you position the container upright and eye the empty bin beside him."Yes. The load! It looks! ....Big... A big... Load. Did you stuff it all in there?" The thoughts pricking your tongue are short and choppy, full of regret and horny confusion.

There's no way to hide the mental images playing in your mind of Jimin taking you from behind, emptying himself into you. There's no way to hide the way you want to sink to your knees and take him into your mouth until he gives you the load you can't stop talking about.

He purses his lips and raises his eyebrows at you again, offering another chance for you to rephrase. You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing you could phase through the floor instead of dealing with the meltdown your brain is obviously having. "I just... Don't break it by stuffing it too full, y'know?"

Jimin snickers behind his hand. "Don't worry. I was able to fit everything in, but it's a reasonable size."

"Knock on my door when you're done," you say quietly, ashamed by the lack of bloodflow in your own head.

You turn to leave but Jimin grabs your wrist, causing you to spin back towards him. "Wait..."

He leans in, strawberry blonde hair falling across his face as he tries to get your attention with eyes that threaten to pierce into your very soul. His head swerves left and right and you mirror his movements to avoid eye contact.

“Look at me,” he pleads, throaty whine ripping through the base of his chest despite the smile on his lips. “Please?”

Your eye flicker to meet his, a pout staining your features that you hope will mask your embarrassment long enough to return to the safety of your apartment. “What?”

“Would you… Like to come over and watch a movie?” Despite the cheesy grin on his face, his voice falters and the tips of his ears are bright red. “I ordered pizza. I don’t think I can eat it all myself and I don't like leftovers.”

You know he has his shy side, but any time it peeks out from behind his confident persona, it still manages to catch you off guard. You do your best not to sound too eager, but you can feel the butterflies fluttering against your stomach and traveling up your chest. They’re telling you to screech your answer until your lungs quit burning.

It’s not like he’s never invited you over his apartment before. You've shared many pizzas, and takeout boxes over trashy reality TV for the past few months. But this thing you two have been dancing around is finally pushing your hormones to a breaking point. He seems interested, but always hesitates, letting moments pass that would be better spent pressing himself into your body or running his tongue across your neck.

It occurs to you that maybe he just likes to tease for some harmless fun and the prospect of things going any further with you isn’t part of the game. Maybe you’re just projecting your desires onto him. His jaw goes slack as you lean towards him, melting beneath his gaze. Dark eyes drift across your chest again, shamelessly spacing out when they settle on the pebbled nipples beneath your shirt.

Then again, maybe you think too much.

Every conversation is deeply rooted in lust, but the flirtatious banter is always coated with a fine film of pleasantries that mask your true intentions. Could he feel the same? If you can just get the static in your brain to subside long enough to form a coherent thought, to allow you to properly express your feelings, maybe you could get an answer out of him. Pushing down the excitement brewing in your gut, your eyes dart away and you nervously clear your throat.

“I… have to clean mastiff spit out of my hair,” you begin, your heart snapping in two when you catch the smile fade with the light in his eyes. “But… I’d love to come over when I’m finished.”

He visibly perks up and hops down from the washer, casually gesturing at the digital timer on its screen. “Meet back here in twenty?”

You unconsciously bite your lip, grinning like an idiot as you make your exit. “It’s a date.”

As the door to the laundry room clicks shut, Jimin bobs his head in disbelief a few times. This time you used the word ‘date.’ Tonight can’t be another movie night where he freezes up. No horror. No action movies or thrillers. It’s time to pick out some cute rom-com for you both to giggle along to, hopefully with an extra mushy scene he can use to set the mood. He jumps in the air, unable to contain his excitement. His cheeks are beginning to hurt with how much smiling he’s been doing, but he doesn’t care. You said it’s a date.

A shiver wracks his body as he closes the door to his apartment. He frowns at the number on the thermostat, quickly pressing the button to raise the temperature until it's obnoxiously higher than it should be. There. It should warm up in no time. He seeks the instant gratification of warmth, however. When it doesn't come he decides the next twenty minutes will be best spent in a hot bath.

He grips the edge of the cold fiberglass surface with his hands, sinking into the steaming water slowly with a satisfied sigh. He tilts his head back, resting it on the tile behind him. The sound of water rushing through your showerhead carries through the wall and he stills all movement, careful not to disturb the surface of the water until he hears the sliding of curtain rings along a metal rod. The pressure of the water pounding against the tub dulls in volume, clearly finding another target to assail. You hiss a string of curses that indicate the temperature is too hot for your liking, but it's far too easy to hear sin in each little gasp you take.

Jimin submerges his hand in the water, leaving the other gripping the edge of the tub. His fingers squeeze the inner flesh of his thigh before forming a tight fist around the base of his hardened cock. He stills, feeling the familiar needy pulse echoing against the grip of his palm, urging him to offer some kind of relief in the form of movement. But he’s determined to listen, straining his ears for any indication of your body’s positioning; what he wouldn’t give to be able to see you right now. What would you do if this wasn’t here? Would you watch me too?

Realizing he’s not going to get much more out of the wall behind him unless you decide to sing, he closes his eyes. It’s almost too easy to imagine the water pelting the tender flesh of your breasts. He can thank the thin fabric of your tanktops for that. The cleavage and pebbled nipples constantly drawing his attention away from your face has created a mirage in his mind that’s almost believable. Stray droplets roll down your body in places he knows his tongue could do a much better job covering. His thumb brushes up and down preemptively against his cock, doing everything he can to show restraint just in case you decide to part those pretty lips of yours and sing for him.

Finally he drags his palm up his shaft, finding a rhythm that begins to ease the throb building in his abdomen. He thinks of standing in that shower with you, strands of sopping wet hair sticking to his face as his mouth collides with the delicate skin of your chest. He thinks of tonguing one nipple and licking a stripe to the other. He thinks of using his hands to massage and squeeze at the heavenly mounds of flesh before him as the water beats down on the pair of you. Most importantly, he thinks of you pleading for more. All restraint he previously showed comes crashing down for a fraction of a second. The moan that rips itself from his throat is shameful enough to bring a blush to his own cheeks, and it’s absolutely loud enough to carry through the walls. Did you hear that? ...Did you like it?

Before he can consider pausing to listen for a subtle response, the loud thud of what sounds like a heavy plastic container hitting your floor breaks him from his daydream. Did I catch you off guard? Jimin does nothing to subdue the cackle spewing from his mouth. You certainly didn’t earn your nickname for your grace. Gradually he picks up the pace, allowing his fist to glide from the base of his cock to the exposed tip poking out of the water. The wet sloshing sound his fist makes as it bobs up and down is enough to drive him over the edge, imagining what it might be like to fuck himself down your throat. A growl starts low in his chest and builds into a whine as it tumbles from his mouth.

The glistening studs in his nipples rhythmically heave with each greedy breath, already cold and hard from the exposure to the air. His free hand instinctively moves to pinch the bit of flesh trapped between one of the studs. The sting adds a new wave of pleasure to the way his hand plunges down into the water and up again. He pants into the air, wishing you were the force guiding the hand over his shaft, creating the pressure and wetness trapped between his fingers.

He thinks of you on the other side of this wall, soapy suds running down your perfect tits, your stomach, your legs. What he wouldn’t give to be on his knees between those legs, latching onto your pussy and performing sinful tricks with pressured flicks of his tongue. You might want to get clean, but he wants to make you filthy, even as soft citrus-scented suds dribble down your body and onto his face. Would your legs buckle under the pleasure? He considers hooking his arms around your legs and leaning you back against the wall for better leverage, sucking on that sensitive, swollen bud as the water cascades down his back. What do you sound like when you really sing?

Almost perfectly timed, a moan breaks through the sound of his frenzied pelvic thrusts sloshing up into his fist. A particularly jagged exhale leaves his lips as he slows, the water undulating like angry waves crashing into one another. Click. Click. Click. The sound of the water pressure in your shower changes drastically. Jimin’s whole body convulses as he realizes what you’re doing. He plants his feet on the wall above the faucet, bending his knees so he can sink down into the tub up to his jaw.

He’s been in your apartment. He’s seen the handheld attachment. Closing your transparent shower curtains for company doesn’t mean it’s suddenly invisible. He holds back a curse as you cry out in pleasure again. This time you sound close to the wall beside him. Too close. You’re doing this on purpose. Do you want me to listen? Two can play at this game, Snow.

He drags his teeth over his lip and pumps himself fast, water spilling from the tub and flooding the cold tile flooring. Loud, unrestrained groans fill the air as the water sloshes between his palm and cock, creating a very wet, obscene squelching sound. He straightens his legs against the wall to bring himself up to a relaxed position as he gasps for release, trying not to drown in the water rolling back and forth in the tub.

It’s almost too cute the way he imagines your face is changing color right now. To his surprise you immediately retaliate with a slew of vulgar curses and frantic pleading. Electric butterflies pulse through his abdomen, quickening the pace at which his climax is travelling. It’s so close now; he can’t even pretend like that didn’t just affect him.

“Y/N…. Please… Come over… Ah...” he moans against the wall, knowing you’re panting just on the other side.

“Oh, fuck… I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum,” you warn in a shrill whisper, volume growing with each repetition until you’re practically shrieking. Just at the peak of your frenzied inhales, your voice dips into a low breathy whimper that he can barely make out. “Jimin… I’m cumming. Fuck...”

He slows his movements so he can better listen to you reach your climax, hearing his name on your lips just before losing the ability to listen to anything over his own thrashing in the water. His palm glides down his cock and back up, desperate to meet his own release. He’s got your voice in his head notifying him you’re about to cum on repeat. It drives him over the edge.

He groans, using pressure and strength to stroke himself one last time as ropes of white begin to shoot straight up towards the ceiling like a fountain and land back in the water. He pumps himself through it, riding each wave of pleasure until he’s sure he’s milked every drop of cum from his cock and the fountain of white subsides. He falls back and lets his arms go limp in the water. Now he’s the one who needs a shower.

Despite wanting to show off a little skin for your date with Jimin, there’s a chill in the complex that seems to permeate deep into your skin, digging straight down to your bones. Even the memory of your bold behavior in the shower can’t keep the heat circulating through your body. By the time you realize how long it has taken you to will yourself from the steamy bathroom, apply some “low-effort” makeup, and wiggle into a pair of fleece-lined leggings, you’re ashamed to have missed the window for your meeting by ten minutes.

You sprint down the hall in an oversized hoodie, desperate to apologize for your tardiness. The electric hum of the dryer greets you, and the washing machine previously occupied by Jimin’s belongings thrums nearby, but he’s nowhere to be found. Your laundry bin sits on top of the washer, its contents within the machine below. The backside of the repair ticket has been scribbled on and left beside your bin. ‘Are you still coming, Snow? ;)’

The ticket crumples in your palm as you stuff it in the cavity of your sweatshirt and make your way back towards Jimin’s door, holding back the nerves swirling in your chest. You want to scream in excitement, but that’s probably not an acceptable reaction, even though you reason with yourself that it is a very human one considering how long you've waited for an opportunity like this.

The door swings open before you can knock, a very bundled up Jimin puffing his cheeks out at you. For a moment you mistake his expression for one of annoyance at you. "The heat is out. Can you believe it?"

"What?"

"I just got an email from the leasing office. They don't know when it will be fixed. They're urging people to buy heaters and get reimbursed for them later," he mumbles, looking down at his phone and re-reading the message as you brush past him, immediately discarding your furry slippers as you go. The carpeting in his apartment feels so much better than yours.

"That explains why I can't stop shivering," you sigh. On your next inhale, the smell of pepperoni wafts into your nostrils, and you make a beeline for the small dining room table across the room, noting the closed box on top of it.

"At least they're offering to take money off of rent 'due to inconvenience.'" Jimin scrunches up his nose, shuffling his sulking form towards you. "But I don't want to go buy a heater."

You already have a slice of pizza stuffed in your mouth when you absentmindedly try to answer. "Ihaabwon." The words are a garbled mess.

His eyes meet yours and you nearly choke, embarrassed for trying to speak with your mouth full. The hand still clutching his phone falls to his side and he grins at you with devilish intent, eyes crinkling in the corners. "You're so cute when your mouth is stuffed."

You chew a few times and swallow hard. When you find the nerve to speak, your voice comes out smaller and softer than you'd like. "...I have one. I'll go get it."

Damn it. What happened to being bold? Maybe you'd be faring better if your heart wasn't pounding so damn fast. Despite this, none of your blood seems to be circulating properly to your fingers, your toes, or even your brain at this junction. You're suspicious it's all being funneled into your swollen clit, which has only just stopped tingling from the barrage of pressure you'd exposed it to. Regardless, you gobble down the rest of the slice as you exit, telling yourself you can't let your nerves get the better of you again. Tonight has already proven you can be braver than you think, and it's time to embrace it.

It's about twenty minutes into the movie when you finally work up the courage to place your hand on his, finding it just as cold and clammy as yours. He gives it a gentle squeeze and twines your fingers together without looking away from the screen. Your rapid heartbeat threatens to give away every ache his touch soothes. You do your best to focus on the flimsy plot of the film, but all you can think about is how nice it feels to finally have his palm pressed against yours.

The space heater across the room rattles, fruitlessly pumping out a stream of hot air that never quite makes it over to the pair of you. It’s now that you’re just noticing the soft glow of yellow string lights, creating a cozy atmosphere that you wish could be half as warm as it looks. You chew your lip as you pretend to watch the screen, feeling the weight of his head coming to rest on your shoulder. You try to avoid the thought of how badly you have to pee right now, resisting the urge to bounce your leg to stave off the sensation. The universe is too cruel.

Suddenly Jimin’s pocket begins buzzing. He pulls out his phone and silences the vibrations, groaning as he turns his face towards your shoulder. “Ugh. Laundry is done. I need to go get it...”

As he rises you feel his hand turn over yours a few times, gently caressing the length of your fingers as though he’ll never feel them again. You move to stand but he presses his palm into your shoulder, encouraging you to stay put. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it, ok? Keep my seat warm.”

You melt into the cushion, grinning foolishly at the wink he gives you before wrapping a blanket around himself and leaving. Trembling hands fumble for the remote control, pausing the movie to hopefully drag out the time you’ll spend with him tonight. You have ample time to relieve the pressure on your bladder, nearly breaking your neck on the wet, slippery tile of the bathroom.

Despite the crumpled proof sitting in your pocket, or your aversion to speaking on what you suspected was only a fucked-out fantasy, the amount of water lingering on that floor confirms its authenticity. Can you really pretend like you didn’t get off just listening to him moan and touch himself? Can you really pretend like he didn’t get off listening to you? You settle down in front of the space heater, warming your fingers on the hot air with a satisfied sigh and spacing out as you lose yourself in the memory.

Jimin returns from laundry duty after a few minutes, but you’re focused on the heat, closing your eyes and trying to get the chill out of your bones. He waddles his laundry bin to the corner of the room, setting it down before creeping up behind you. Soft fleece wraps around shoulders along with his curve of his arms. It’s warm, incredibly soft, and it smells of fresh linen fabric softener.

“You weren’t keeping my spot warm.” The chiding nature of his tone is undercut by the breathy whisper and pillowy lips thawing the cold shell of your ear.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you promise, eyes still closed when you turn your face towards the tickling sensation.

"Oh? Really?" Supple lips skim against your cheek, but he doesn't move any closer. "How?"

You exhale a ragged breath, trying to find the will to close the distance between your lips. All it would take is a nudge, just a subtle turn on your part to do so. But, like always, you freeze. How ridiculous is it that you can mutually masturbate, but sharing a kiss is somehow beyond your courage?

"I'll... keep you warm now. I'm all toasty, see?" Your palm, now slightly less frigid but still equally clammy, cups his chin as you tap your fingers against his cheek.

"I see..." he hums in disapproval, weight of his chin resting on your cold hand. "It seems like you need more time to defrost, but if you come back to the couch with me we can share this blanket I threw in the dryer with your clothes for a few minutes.”

"Hmph, are you saying I wouldn't do a good job keeping you warm?"

You can feel the twitch of his lips against your palm, shy smile forming. "Your hands are still so cold! I'm sure you have your ways. But..." He pauses, gentling bringing his thumb and forefinger across your jawline before pressing them together below your chin. "I'd love to see what they are."

You half-giggle, half-scoff at him. He’s laying it on thick tonight, but it’s not like you mind. In fact, you don’t want the night to end because of it. You both settle in on the couch with Jimin draping the soft blanket across you, remnants of a faint heat in its fibers. Just as the movie resumes, Jimin starts curling the blanket in his fingers, which causes the material to billow in his lap. It’s not like it’s a small blanket, but over the course of a few minutes you’re left with practically no coverage.

“Thief,” you finally accuse, fingers clutching the remaining edge slipping past your shoulder.

He blinks and stares back at you with a surprised smile. “Hmm? We’re sharing aren’t we?”

You roll your eyes and snuggle closer in an attempt to siphon back some coverage. Still his fingers twine the blanket in circles, inching the material further off the slope of your body. Your fingers slither across his chest and down the curve of his arm in search of the hand robbing you of heat. Neither of you are even pretending to watch the movie anymore. He tries to slink back into the cushion, smiling at your futile attempts to free the fabric from his grasp.

“You stop that,” you whisper, leaning against his chest and losing yourself in the way his eyes seem to twinkle in the golden glow of the lights circling the room. When you finally make contact with the fist curled in the blanket, he immediately drops the fabric and clamps down to lace your fingers with his.

“Make me,” he pleads through half-lidded eyes, tongue swiping a quick line across his lips.

You return the pressure on your palm with a squeeze of your own, pressing the back of his hand into the cushion beside him. “Fuck,” you breathe.

Your eyelids flutter for half a second; the electric chill running through your body may be caused by the temperature or simply the way his neck dips to lower his face down to yours. Either way, your breath hitches and you hook your leg over his lap. He takes this as an invitation to slide his free arm around your back, ready to press you even further into his body should you give him a signal to proceed.

You lean further across his lap, arching yourself up into him. “Is that what you want? You want me to make you?” you whisper curiously, lips grazing his as the questions spill from them.

“Please,” he whines breathlessly, voice cracking.

You close the gap with a sly, teasing smile, hungrily smashing your mouths together as though tasting every bit of him will sate that hunger. The hand currently sinking into the couch flies up to his jaw, thumb tracing a line over its contours as you’ve been aching to do for ages. He uses the opportunity to cradle the back of your head, gently positioning it in a way that puts less of a strain on his neck while the hand at your back coaxes you desperately towards him in a lopsided embrace.

The ebb and flow of your kisses have your heads bobbing in time with one another. He inhales greedily over your mouth, immediately coming back down to suck your bottom lip between his teeth. A small satisfied sigh lingers in your throat, and you feel his hand clamp down on the thigh you have spread over his lap.

Just as gravity starts to drive your form further from his embrace, you shift your weight and shimmy your arm out from where it’s trapped against his body. He allows you to pull away for just a moment, your lip snapping back to you with a soft, wet smack. You flit your tongue out to savor any sliver of himself that he’s left behind, already missing the way his tongue tastes when trading exploratory flicks with yours.

Planting your palm into the cushion beside his head, you gain enough leverage to fully straddle his pelvis. You tower above him, relishing in the wonder carved into the way he watches you, mirth creasing thin lines into the outer edges of his eyes. Your thumb glides across his cheek a few times as you lightly cup his jaw with your fingertips, your gaze darting between the reflections of light dancing across his eyes.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” you admit.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time,” he confesses, maintaining steadfast eye contact as he fights the blush prickling the tips of his ears.

It takes all of your self-restraint not to immediately ask why. Instead a joke forms on your tongue before you can quell it. “It’s the smell of wet dog, right? Drives you crazy?”

He giggles, throwing his head back with a loud inhale. “Irresistible!”

A shy smile parts your lips and you descend on him, crashing your mouth down on his to mute the sound of his laughter. Those gentle giggles quickly morph into muffled moans as your tongue dives into his mouth. It takes less than a second for him to counter your intrusion by sliding his tongue against yours rhythmically and you lose yourself in that hypnotic tempo.

His hands settle the top of your knees before his palms start running up to the crease where your thighs meet your hips and then back down again. Your hips involuntarily begin rocking to combat the need building between your legs, but your leggings have pulled away from your skin in the area you crave friction the most.

A staggered whimper breaks out between your frenzied panting. Whether the sound came from him or from you, it’s hard to tell. The few times you’ve opened your eyes to make sure you haven’t been dreaming, he’s looked just as fucked out as you feel. He starts drawing deep circles along the inside of your thighs with his thumbs and your need for him challenges your need to breathe. Gasping for air between wet, sloppy kisses, you card your fingers through his hair, knotting them in place as you roll your body in time with the tongue gliding against yours. This time he blows a puff of air as he moans into you, greedily latching onto your lip and biting down as the sound leaves a croaky trail in his throat.

Sliding his hands along the tops of your thighs isn’t enough. He spreads his fingers; the edge of his thumbs flare towards the inside of your legs, forging a path up towards your clit. The way the material stretches away from your body causes him to abandon his route in favor of following the fabric tucked in that v-shaped channel leading up to your hips. His touch is too light with the layers you’re wearing, but you don’t have time to file a complaint before he slides his fingers beneath your sweatshirt, clamping them down on your skin.

“Ah!” you hiss between kisses, hips wiggling at the chill creeping up your spine. “Your hands--” You don’t get to finish your sentence before he’s biting down hard again and dragging your lower lip through his teeth. “--arr sho--” Your lip snaps back to you, breaking away just long enough to speak in broken gasps before he closes the distance again. “-cold!”

He laughs against your whine, gripping your back and sneaking both thumbs beneath the waistband of your leggings. “Weren’t you going to warm me up?” You can feel him guiding your hips, dragging them in asymmetric loops over his lap.

“Weren’t you going to share the blanket?” you chide, breaking the kiss again.

He grins, gripping a corner of the blanket and throwing it over your shoulder. “I did. Now come back.” He eagerly tries to goad you back to his lips, but you pull back just a bit.

“There are better ways I can warm your hands,” you mumble, yanking his hair to the side to expose his lovely neck, golden skin riddled with goosebumps. Your mouth gets to work kissing and sucking on the sensitive, uncovered bit of flesh, gushing a little bit when he groans beneath you. But it’s not enough. If only your pants weren’t in the way, you could certainly warm more than just his hands.

He gives your hips a firm squeeze, digging his fingers into the soft flesh at your sides. “What ways are those?”

“Take off your sweater,” you tempt in a whisper, dragging your tongue up to his ear. “And I’ll show you.”

He frowns as you lean back, giving him space to do as you’ve suggested. Instead, he tugs at the hem of your sweatshirt, frown morphing into a devilish smile. “You first.”

“I… don’t have anything on underneath,” you admit, shying away from him.

He slips his hands around your jaw, pulling you forward. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“There’s no heat,” you remind him, mimicking his movements and tapping your fingers against his cheek.

“So you want me to take off mine?” he asks, feigning offense. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, dipping his head forward and following your movements. “That seems kind of unfair, don’t you think?”

Your confidence wanes and you squirm under his scrutiny, feeling particularly stupid for trying to be sexy. Sexy isn’t your thing. Floundering under pressure and saying something dumb is definitely your thing. Sweat runs down your neck, despite the fact that you’re still a walking popsicle. In your defense, the art of botching conversations is a skill that runs in your family.

"You're right," you agree, shaking your head. "I'm sorry. It's freezing. I'm an idiot."

You begin to climb off his lap, but his hands catch your hips and bring you back down. "No, no. You're not." He gently presses his lips against yours. "Don't worry. I know you've got me covered."

With a shit-eating grin, he tugs down on the blanket half-draped across your shoulder. You feel him wiggle beneath you before he leans back and shrugs his arms through the holes of his sweater, hastily working the material over his head. At least he has a t-shirt on; you don't feel quite so bad now. The flicker of static charges the air around him, strawberry blonde hair fanning out like it has its own sense of gravity. Without a second thought he moves back in to kiss you and an electric shock zaps the place where your lips connect.

"Ah!" you recoil at the sensation and he giggles between peppering your jaw with kisses. It takes all of your willpower to push him back against the cushion. He even gives you a little pout, his bottom lip protruding.

"You're worse than my clients," you tease, flicking your tongue out at him. "Be a good boy."

"I am," he insists while cupping your jaw and trying to drag your neck low enough to latch his lips onto. When he realizes you aren't having it, he snakes his hands down to your ass and gives both cheeks a firm squeeze.

"Liar." Grinning like an idiot, you grab his wrists and pin them to the cushions while you descend, watching his eyes as long as possible before you press your lips against his neck. You catch a bit of skin between your teeth and he hisses like steam is about to start pouring from his ears. Pressing down with the flat of your tongue, you explore the expanse of his neck for the sounds of pleasure you yearn to hear.

"This..." he exhales a lazy moan, trying to fight his body's will to give in but you can already see his resolve is flimsy. "...isn't fair..."

A deep, throaty moan vibrates beneath your tongue; your pussy throbs at the way the croaky sound crosses over into a melodic hum as you massage wet circles deeper into that spot where his collarbone and neck meet. Another moan escapes him between shaky breaths, higher pitched this time, and twice as needy. His wrists twitch against your palms, fingers digging into the cushion beneath him. Yeah. You want to live in this spot indefinitely.

"Hey..." he trails softly, head falling against the back of the couch. "... You're... Don't leave marks... Snow... hey... Ah... Y/N..."

Your lips smack as you come up for air. He's too drunk on the endorphins swimming through his veins to see your hesitation at the use of your name in lieu of the cute nickname you've grown accustomed to hearing. "You want me to stop?"

He whimpers, self-control buckling faster than you can even get the question out. "No, don't stop. Please, don't stop, Y/N."

He doesn't need to say it twice; you’ve been waiting far too long for this. Your tongue is back on that sensitive spot right by his collarbone and he's moaning against your ear in less than a fraction of a second.

“Mmm… you're gonna make me wear high collared shirts, aren't you?" he whispers, half shaming your actions, half just thinking out loud. There's a subtle attempt to grind his pelvis up into the space between your thighs.

You can’t help but laugh against him, tilting your head back just enough to inspect your handiwork. There’s a criss-crossed reddish-purple mark marring his skin, a placeholder to remind you where to place your tongue later. “It kinda looks like a heart if you squint. Don’t worry. It’s low enough the only way anyone will see it is if you’re walking around shirtless.”

He sighs, picking his head off the couch and trying to peek down at it. “I guess I’ll look at it later when I’m thinking of you on top of me like this.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing as he smiles innocently at you.

“...Are your hands still cold?” You’re already dragging his limp wrists up your thighs to the hem of your oversized sweatshirt

The hoods of his eyelids shade the glaze in his eyes, but do nothing for the way his jaw falls open as you continue dragging his hands upwards. You hiss as his fingers apply pressure to your body as they travel upward, leaving chilly streaks in their wake. Without hesitation, you chew your lip and cup your hands over his, pressing them into your tits. You look into his eyes for comfort as blood rushes to your cheeks. His pupils are completely blown out and you feel his labored breathing quicken.

“Is this okay?” you question, experimenting with a slight roll of your hips.

His eyelids flutter a moment as he massages your breasts, squeezing, pushing, pulling them. Your hands fall away to let him explore the hidden shapes beneath your sweatshirt.

“Is this okay she asks…” he giggles mockingly to himself before kneading his thumbs across your hardened nipples. “Do you want to know how much I’m enjoying this?”

He drops one of his hands and uses it to place yours over his pelvis. You press down with your fingers, feeling the solid erection tucked into the band of his pants.

“I tried to hide it, tried to get it to go away,” he hushedly admits, teeth briefly nipping at your earlobe. “But I’ve been like this since you walked in here.” He pauses, savoring the way you whimper when he drives his tongue into the valley behind your ear. “And everything you’re doing is making me harder.”

“Jimin…” you moan, feeling his cock twitch under the layers of fabric beneath your fingers.

“You sound like an angel saying my name like that.” Both his hands are back on your breasts, fingers digging into your flesh in ways that have you arching your back.

“An angel? Me?” Your lips curl into a crooked smile. “No one’s ever called me that before.”

As you rub two fingers back and forth over the hard shape in his pants, he clamps down on your ear with his teeth and lets a muffled moan escape with his breath. “You’re right. You’re corrupted. An angel with horns. I swear I can see them.”

“Oh, so I’m a devil now? Make up your mind, will you?” You press your lips into a thin line, trying to conceal the satisfaction in your expression when he pulls back to glare at you. Good thing looks can’t kill. His stare is as icy as the room. Is he legitimately pouting at you for teasing him? He’s the king of teasing; he’s just mad you’re just dishing it back in heaps tonight.

“No, you’re an angel with horns,” he insists, glowering as you continue to stroke him through his pants using just your fingertips. He responds by pinching both of your nipples hard, causing you to cry out and grind yourself down on his thighs. You think about slapping his hands away, but the way his fingers now work soothing circles around the sensitive nubs has you leaning into his touch, aching for more. You roll your hips forward, grazing his dick with your pelvis. But it’s not enough and he can tell.

“You won’t get what you need that way.” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and leans forward.

You instantly cling to his shoulders, feeling like he’s about to push you off the couch. His hands clutch your back as he safely dips you onto the floor. The way he towers over you as he drops to his knees has you regretting your decision to not wear panties underneath your leggings. The wetness that just gushed out of you is definitely soaking through. You lean back on your elbows, giggling like a schoolgirl as you inch yourself backwards, closer to the heater. Your eyes never leave his form as he grips his t-shirt by the collar and pops it over his head in one swift motion.

You blink, exhaling a held breath as you catch the glint of silver studs protruding from both sides of hardened brown nipples. The piercings come as a surprise, but you’re excited by the thought of clamping your mouth over them. Your eyes continue hungrily scanning the smooth expanse of his chest as he drapes the blanket across his back with a small shiver. A tattoo lines his ribs, scrawled in hasty bold letters: ‘NEVERMIND.’

He smirks, crawling over you and slotting a knee between your legs. Your fingertips gingerly brush across the inked skin in wonder, not able to take your eyes off of it. “Is there meaning behind that?”

You verbalize the thought without thinking, knowing he’s probably been asked that a million times. You know not every tattoo has to have some deep profound meaning, and you feel a little foolish for asking what might be a personal question. But every thump of the heavy beat in your chest tells you that the more you ask, the more you learn, and the harder you fall. You’ve been falling for months now, but at least it’s not such a lonely descent anymore.

He plants a gentle, chaste kiss on your lips before pressing his forehead to yours. “It’s a reminder to not care what other people think.”

“Does it work?” you ask while trailing fingers through his hair. “I feel like I could use that advice daily.”

He laughs, although you swear he looks sad as he thumbs your cheek. “Do you think I would have waited so long to have you like this if it did? I care too much about what others think. I always have. I was scared you’d see what a mess I am and you’d never look at me again. I couldn’t bear the thought.”

Your stomach does a somersault. “I think… You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met. Definitely the hottest.” That pulls a shy grin from him. Your heart is soaring, telling you now is the time to be honest. “Jimin, I... feel happiest when I get to talk to you, even for just five minutes. I love hearing you talk about your granny because it gives me hope that families don’t have to be so messed up. I don’t have parents to call and talk to about my day. I used to be sad about that. Then you started doing laundry on my night. And you always make a point of asking about my day. It’s such a small thing, but it makes me so happy.

“Because you listen to my rambling and instead of calling me dumb or hurrying me to the point of my stories like everyone else in my life, you always look at me like…” you pause, trying to push down the tears you can feel building, but you know your eyes are going glassy because his brow furrows in sympathy.

A subtle frown takes hold of his mouth and his eyes soften, leaving an ache in your chest that makes it harder to go on.

“...like you actually like listening to me. I can’t describe how much that means to me because,” you continue, struggling to breathe and speak at the same time, “I’m used to being ignored or talked over. You’re the first person in a long time to make me feel like I’m not a burden. Or… a grade-A fuckup.” A choked laugh escapes with your held breath. “You think you’re a mess, Jimin, but look at me. I’m a mess. And yet, when I’m with you, I feel like it doesn’t matter. I don’t know how to describe it, but there’s something about you that makes me feel...”

Goddamnit. You’re blowing it. Jimin’s hovering above you, shirtless, after just making out with you and now you’re turning things into a sob-story. Tears well up in your eyes and your throat closes, forbidding you from saying anything else. Are you shaking because you’re cold, or because this is almost too much to handle? You should get up. You should go back to your apartment and cry it out and apologize in the morning.

You push him back and sit up, intending to do just that as the tears in your eyes use gravity to their advantage. You move to wipe your eyes, but Jimin’s fingers catch them right as they begin to streak down your cheek.

“Complete? Less alone?” he wonders, trying to get you to look at him. “I listen to you because you deserve to be heard. You’re funny and cute and smart. And you always have a good story about dogs. How can anyone not want to listen to you?”

He throws his arms around your quivering shoulders, bringing you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry that people have been so cruel, that life has been so unfair to you. But I… will always ask about your day. Not because you need to tell me, but because I want to know.”

He sniffles loudly and your hands fly to his back to comfort him. “Maybe it’s okay that you’re a mess because I am too. Let’s be a mess together, okay?”

He pulls back and now it’s your turn to wipe the tears from his eyes. You share a warm smile when your eyes catch the flash of red lace on his shoulder, making your heart sink into the pit of your stomach.

You gulp as his eyes follow your gaze to your favorite pair of red panties clinging to the fleece blanket. You immediately try to snatch them, but he beats you to them and closes his fist around the lacey material.

“Wow you already took these off for me?” he asks with a sly grin, knowing damn well that they must have stuck to the blanket he briefly tossed into the dryer with your clothes. You stumble over your own knees as you reach out to take them back.

He puckers his lips and feigns surprise, forcing air through his teeth as he raises his eyebrows. “Oh, they’re a little wet!”

You wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole as you snatch them from his grip.

“Don’t be so embarrassing,” you mumble, stuffing them into the pocket of your hoodie.

“But you’re so cute when you get shy.” He goes in for a kiss, but misses your lips as you turn your head away. Not to be dismissed, he moves towards your ear, ghosting his fingertips around your hairline.

“Besides,” he continues, lowering the usual melodic tenor of his voice to a sultry bass, “I know that’s nothing compared to how wet you are for me now.”

He knows. Of course he knows. Ashamed by the truth in his statement, you bury your face into the warmth of his neck, letting a high-pitched whine flee from your throat, which quickly turns into a muffled screech against his skin.

He laughs at the ridiculous sound. You’re so weird. How can you be so weird and still turn him on? “See? You’re so cute. Hey, don’t hide from me!”

He takes the opportunity to slide his hands under your sweater again, fingers pinching the soft flesh of your waist. You bolt upright and grip his wrists like you’re about to snap them in half.

“Such a brat. I take back all the nice things I said,” you whisper, rolling your eyes. Even as the words are coming out, you’re bringing his hands to your chin and kissing the brim of his curled knuckles.

“You can’t,” he weakly drawls, losing himself in your touch.

He walks his fingers over your bottom lip and drums them against the inside of your mouth, watching your lip snap back to you with each slow, alternating swipe. You dart your tongue out to coat the pads of his fingers, wanting to tease the wet heat of your mouth closing down on him. But the way his eyelashes hopelessly batt as he tries to close his eyes and compose himself has you sucking his fingers into your mouth in an instant. Hollowing your cheeks, you trap him in the slick pressure chamber between your cheeks and your tongue. His jaw hangs open as he watches you slowly glide them in and out of your mouth.

An uneven breath hitches in his throat. “Don’t be a tease,” he pleads.

You pause, chest burning as his eyes bore into yours. His fingers coast out of your mouth with a gross popping sound and you kiss the tips of them before speaking, “Then don’t be a brat.”

Pulling the blanket over his shoulders, he wraps an arm around your neck, the weight of his body pressing you back. The distance between you quickly fills with muffled moans and the wet smack of your lips hungrily sliding against one another.

“I want to feel you,” he murmurs between open-mouth kisses, fingers diving under your sweatshirt and slowly working the material up your stomach.

“Me too,” you say, brain short-circuiting as his mouth licks a hot stripe down your neck. “I mean, I want you to feel me too. Not that I don’t want to feel you. I want to feel you. A lot.”

He smiles against your skin. The fabric of your sweatshirt bunches up just below your breasts and he pauses, waiting for a possible objection. “Do you want me to keep going?”

“Please,” you breathe, already wiggling your arms out of the sleeves. Between the chill of the air and Jimin’s sharp inhale, your nipples grow rigid. You’re pretty sure they’re hard enough to cut glass. His eyes roam your chest, drinking in the sight of your beauty just as you finish dragging the sweater over your head. He forces himself to tear his eyes from the sight of your pebbled nipples heaving up and down with each shallow breath your lungs take in.

Blinking a few times, he drags his eyes up and giggles when he sees the static in your hair.

You recoil and quickly criss-cross your arms to cover your chest, mistakenly believing he’s mocking your body. You think you’d be used to people laughing at you by now, but it still catches you off guard. It’s like a swift punch to the gut when you consider your foolish optimism. Armed with knowledge of the meaning behind his tattoo, you truly hoped Jimin could see past the years you spent ripping yourself apart in attempts to please others.

It’s been tough, but you’ve been able to pick up the pieces of your shattered self-esteem since moving away from the city. Leaving behind the hate and negativity binding you back to that world seemed impossible at the time, but you’ve made such progress, such strides away from all that. You’d like to think you possess a resilience, a hard shell that protects you from cruel people now, but it turns out you’re just as soft and vulnerable as ever.

It’s been years of tying ribbons decorated with hope and cheerfulness over the despondency branded into your core. And it feels like everything you’ve worked so hard to become unravels in an instant. You feel like melting into a puddle of tears. You feel like an idiot.

“Are you okay?” His smile falters and the laughter previously ringing throughout the room dies on the tip of his tongue. Anxiety drenches his face as he looks upon you, his stomach flip-flopping with the concerns building in his throat.

“Sorry,” you apologize, unable to hide your shame for not living up to whatever expectations he might have had. Still, you cling to the shred of dignity that remains lodged in the back of your mind. “I know I’m not… Like… The best looking, but it was kind of mean to laugh.”

“Oh…. Oh no… Y/N, I wasn’t laughing at… I would never… I was laughing because of this…” He drops his finger to your nose and you’re shocked by sharp a jolt of electricity. He makes a big gesture around his head to try and explain. “Your hair was fluffy. It was cute.”

He does his best to hide the tremble of his fingers as they brush the hair from your eyes and slowly trace jagged lines down your body. “I think you’re beautiful. And I will never. Ever. Be cruel to you. I will never hurt you.”

“Promise?” you ask, feeling foolish for falling apart so easily under a false assumption.

“I promise,” he insists, innocently brushing his lips against yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into both a deeper kiss and embrace. The cold sting of the metal studs at his nipples gives you goosebumps, but the skin-to-skin contact has you moaning into him and craving more. Your tongue plunges into his mouth and he responds with an enthusiastic grind of his hips.

“Fuck,” you pant, already not-so-subtly yanking the fabric of your leggings down.

“Let me help you,” he offers.

Your hands, which have been trying to work the material down your hips without lifting your ass, abandon their efforts in favor of groping the small of his back and lightly massaging the back of his neck. He smiles sweetly, lifting himself up enough to trail a hand down between the two of you, letting it take a detour along the curve of your breasts as it goes. When it finally meets the fabric still gathered just above your sex, he pauses and then dives his fingers below the material instead.

You gasp as he rubs his fingers along your folds, seeking access to the prize hidden beneath. The slick, sticky coating now drenching every bit of your cunt allows him to glide through almost too easily. Suddenly he’s rubbing small, quick circles against your slippery clit and your can’t help but throw your head back against the floor. Lucky for you the carpet softens the blow.

“Does it feel good?” he asks with a pleased hum as his lips close around a pebbled nipple and swathes his tongue over it.

Your head lolls from side to side as you massage your fingertips into the base of his scalp. “So fucking good, Jimin.”

He moans at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue, deciding it’s time to rub your clit with his thumb instead so he can dip his fingers inside you. His knuckles rub against the damp fabric of your leggings as he teases your obscenely wet entrance with a finger. Quickly deciding two is far better than one, he plunges them inside your dripping cunt while keeping a steady pressure on your clit.

You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as he curls his fingers up to experience the contraction of your walls before he starts languidly pumping those delicate digits in and out of you. Digging into his back with your fingernails and knotting your other hand in his hair, you cry out a sound that makes his cock twitch against his belly.

He drags your nipple through his teeth as he pulls back, watching the jiggle that ripples through your breast before turning his head to rest on it. Suddenly his fingers disappear from your cunt and your walls spasm, weeping at the loss.

“So wet…” he whispers, sliding all of his fingers along your folds and gathering as much of you as he can.

You’re so fucking embarrassed. You’re not just wet, you’re salaciously wet, like a goddamn waterfall of pussy juice. Just as you’re about to apologize, he drags a wet, sticky trail up your belly with fingertips that have been drowned in your essence. You lose the will to speak as he looks up from his resting place on your tits.

“Is this all for me?” he inquires with a face of stone, eyelids half-closed as he spreads his fingers apart to let you see the glistening trails connecting them.

You manage to squeak out a pitiful, “I’m so sorry!”

Why you’re acting like you’ve physically harmed him in some way has him beyond puzzled. “Sorry? But, why?” He blinks, furrowing his brow. “I’ve never had someone this wet for me…. From now on…” he shyly trails off, bringing his fingers to his kiss-swollen lips and flicking his tongue across each one. His voice drops an octave. “I’ll be thinking about this every time I cum.”

With that he dips one into his mouth, eyes fixed on yours. You can’t look away, can’t even blink when he moans, eyelids fluttering as he deeply inhales your scent. “Delicious….”

You watch, speechless as he takes turns plugging his fingers into his mouth until he’s licked them all clean. “You taste sweeter than I imagined, Snow.”

When you don’t react, and stare at him like a terrified deer in headlights, he leans forward and hovers above your mouth. “You okay?”

Smelling yourself on his breath, your eyes close and you pull him into a deep kiss. He already tastes so fucking good. But he tastes heavenly when he’s wearing you on his tongue. “You’re... ” You try to shake the stupor out of your eyes, but you’re so smitten. “Amazing.”

He grins, pressing his lips to your cheek, then your neck, then your collarbone. He swipes his tongue across an area that makes you tense and he decides to revisit it, sucking a red mark of revenge into your flesh.

“I want you so fucking bad. Please, Jimin,” you whimper his name like he’ll take pity on you and climb back up your body to give you another taste of his mouth dripping with your juices.

Instead, your fingernails claw channels into his back as he forgoes the spot at your neck. He descends, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he can around both of your tits. “I want...” He laps the sticky trail he previously made with his fingers, following the path from your nipple down to your waist. “To make…” His tongue makes a lazy circle around your belly button before coasting down to the band of your leggings. “You cum for me.”

Your walls try to clamp down on something, anything, but there’s nothing inside your cunt to satisfy the craving driving you mad. You don’t have time to ruminate on this because he’s already yanking your leggings down your thighs, pulling them off and tossing them across the room. Your first instinct is to lock your thighs together to hide yourself from his gaze, but his palms catch your ankles as he moves to slot himself between your legs.

“Finally,” he breathes, running his hands up the inside of your calves, past your knees, slowing when he reaches your thighs. “Can I...?”

He seeks your approval, but you’re already throbbing with need, nodding and biting your lip to keep yourself from screaming yes. “Please, Jimin. Please.”

You tense as he presses his palms into both of your thighs, spreading you wide so he can see your glistening pussy. “Beautiful.”

Your cheeks are on fire, but you don’t have time to dwell on that either because Jimin is diving his tongue into your cunt like a man starved, lapping up your juices with a shameless slurping sound. And it feels like you’ve reached fucking nirvana.

“Oh fuck,” you cry out, tone laced with whiny need. All you can do is twist your fingers around strands of his hair as your head slams back against the floor. If it weren’t for this carpet, you’d probably have a concussion by now.

The more you whimper, the harder he pushes his jaw into you, swiping his tongue into the entrance of your cunt and collecting as much of your sweetness as he can. He flicks his tongue in messy circles along your labia, taking his time as he works his way up to that sensitive bundle of nerves above.

You swear that he must have some sort of supernatural gift for eating pussy because you can already feel the orgasm building in your gut. You flex the muscles of your stomach, trying to will yourself to hold on just a little longer. Clenching your jaw, you tighten your grip in his hair and swallow hard. He groans against you as you tug at his golden locks, sending soft vibrations straight to your core.

The forgotten movie continues playing nearby, but all you can hear are the deep inhales he's taking through his nose as he keeps is mouth clamped down over your clit. The wet squelching of his tongue mixing saliva with your own bodily fluids should be grossing you out, but it fills you with a new wave of desire that pushes you closer to the edge. You've only ever gotten close this fast when you're alone. How much of his soul did he have to sell for this sinful ability?

You moan his name again as you slide one hand to your tit, groping and pinching your freezing nipple in multiple directions. He lifts his mouth to hungrily gasp for air while continuing to sweep his tongue over your vulva. When he catches the movement of your hand tweaking your nipple, he groans and passionately moves his lips over your clit like he's trying to make out with it. Your eyes roll back and you whine loudly as he pulls himself off you long enough to speak.

"You taste so good, " he whispers, sounding out of breath, like he might have been suffocating himself in your cunt for fun. "Does it feel good?"

He brushes his fingertips over your swollen clit, knowing damn well you're pulsing with need. You prop yourself up on your elbows and look down at him. He cocks his head to the side, allowing his hair to fall across his face, waiting for you to answer.

You answer with a roll of your hips, trying to increase the pressure of his fingers on your bud by wrapping your legs around his back. He obliges your need for a moment, basking in the feel of your body desperately grinding onto his fingers, but he pulls them back and tuts at you with a sweet smile on his face. It's subtle but Jimin can feel it: the tremble of your thighs.

No matter how much you try to hide it, he knows. You're already so close that you're literally shaking. Will you beg me, Snow?

His eyes settle on yours as he slowly moves his fingertips back to your clit, only granting featherlight touches until you answer his question. When you push your hips back down for more, he moves his hand away again, grinning like a madman at the frustration staining your features.

Maybe you forgot what he asked. Raising his eyebrows, he trails his fingers up and down your thighs in teasing repetitions, always retracting them the moment he starts to give you what you want. "Tell me it feels good."

"You know it feels good," you whimper as his thumb swipes over your entrance.

"How good?" He stills, hovering his fingers over your clit. You can feel him teasing faint circles over it, denying you any sort of pressure until you answer.

"So fucking good."

He licks his lips, and spreads your folds open with his fingers. "Tell me how much you want me."

"I want you so fucking bad. I can't think about anything else. Please, baby."

A mischievous grin spreads across his face. "Baby…" he parrots back in a whiny voice, mocking you while kissing a line down your inner thigh. He swipes his tongue slowly up your entrance, quickly licking your clit like it's his new favorite flavor of lollipop.

"Jimin, please," you protest, throwing your head back so you don't have to look at him.

"What?" He slows his pace, kissing your swollen bud and rolling it against his tongue, pausing to whisper into you. "Tell me, baby."

With all mockery removed from his tone, the innocent word sounds absolutely sinful falling from his lips. If you're being honest, you never want him to stop saying it.

"You're evil," you breathe. "Please, don't stop."

You squeeze your thighs around his head as he massages his tongue against a particularly sensitive spot.

"Ah…! There! Right fucking there!" Your elbows ache as you try to stay propped up to keep your view of his beautiful face buried in you. "Jimin… Jimin, you're gonna make me cum."

Dark eyes peer up at you, sucking your labia through puckered lips before pausing to pant against you. "I know… Will you touch your pretty body for me, baby?"

Your thighs twitch at the request. He takes the opportunity to slide a finger inside your cunt while he tongues your clit. You lean back even further, mouth silently hanging open like you're about to start wailing. Instead you grab at your breast like it's your lifeline, catching your nipple between shaky fingers. Finally you give up on watching and throw your head back, resting it on the floor and running your fingers through your hair to keep from shoving his head down.

The quiver in your thighs grows stronger and you find yourself involuntarily bouncing to fight the sensitivity mixed in with pleasure. He clamps a hand on your hip to try to keep you from bucking him off the wonderful spot he's found. You clench around his fingers, aching for his return when he lifts his mouth from your clit.

"Look at me," he pleads, reaching his thumb up to tease the place he's left covered in spit.

You struggle to perch yourself on your hands, running on pure adrenaline from the most intense edging of your life. Fingernails dig into the carpet on either side of you, arms shaking like they're made of jello. "Jimin… I can't. Not when you're looking at me like that."

He cocks his head to the side curiously. "I'm not sure what you mean?"

You beg, not as a "please," or "come on," but his name expressed as a hopeless sigh; it sounds criminal when you say it like that.

He cracks a smile. "Let me help you."

He slides the hand currently at your hip around your side and presses against the curve of your back. Slipping his fingers from your cunt, he shoves them into your mouth and forces you to bend forward and watch as he descends to replace them.

"See how good you taste?" He whispers it like it's some forbidden secret he's chosen to share. Not giving you a chance to respond, he works his tongue along every delicate fold he can, savoring the tremor of your form as he turns his attention to that wonderful spot he found earlier.

Release is closing in fast as he batters his tongue against your clit. You mindlessly suck your taste from his fingers, letting a culmination of saliva and your own juices seethe from the corners of your mouth to coat your chest in a messy drizzle.

"Fuuuck," you whimper, bobbing your head over them like they're the cock you're craving. The pleasure between your legs is all-consuming, causing your eyes to water as you clench them shut. You feel your orgasm cresting with each quick swipe of his tongue. You force your eyes back open, fearing he might stop and tease you again if you don't.

"Ahhhhm," you moan as his fingers tug your jaw down and you grind your clit hard against the velvety smooth comfort of his lips. "Gonna cum."

Keeping his dark, hungry eyes locked on yours, he releases a groan that vibrates into your core. Your hips stutter against him and suddenly tense. The only form of movement your body offers is the violent tremor deep in your core as you give in to the crashing waves of your orgasm.

Your sharp intake of breath and heavy, spit-soaked moan is almost enough to make him cum on the spot. The quick battering of his tongue never falters and he lets you ride out the high until your body can process movement again. Aftershocks wrack your core until you're bucking your hips in an attempt to free yourself from the overstimulation.

He considers standing his ground to try and give you another, but he climbs up your body instead. Your arms wobble as he presses himself against you, lips and chin glistening in the low light. Despite the sweat running down his forehead, he shivers when you run your tongue over his lips to commit to memory how good he tastes when he's wearing you.

You reach down, palming his length through his pants, feeling the leaking tip poking out the band at his waist. "I want to make you feel good. Please let me make you cum."

He takes in a ragged breath against your kiss, "I'll be right back."

Before you can process the words, he's gone, leaving you as a panting mess on the floor. The heater sends a flow of hot air towards you but you can still feel the cold nipping at your sweaty skin.

Jimin practically sprints back to you, tearing the condom wrapper open with his teeth. When he sees you lying naked on his floor, he pauses to take in the sight. This better not be a really vivid dream.

You look up and he's looking back at you, smiling in a way that melts the chill off every part of your body. You grin like a smitten fool, unable to focus on anything but his kind eyes, even as he's tugging his sweatpants off and rolling the condom down his shaft.

By the time you realize you have a chance to look at his dick and commit the sight to memory, he's already slotted himself between your legs. He pulls the forgotten blanket over his back and lets the weight of his chest come down on yours.

He brushes the hair from your forehead as you wrap your arms around his form in an intimate embrace. He studies your face a moment, wondering if it's too soon to tell you how much he cares about you. It's the little things over the months he's fallen for, small pieces of you that have burrowed into his heart to build a larger, stronger form of affection. This feeling is more than just a shallow attraction, but will bringing that up make you run away?

It's worth the risk. If you don't feel the same, then he can't bear to have you like this even if his body is screaming for it. It can't be meaningless. Not with you.

He offers a gentle kiss, fingers trembling as they cup your chin. He lets the whisper rest against the surface of your lips. "I love you."

Your heart skips a beat and you hug your arms tighter around him. Love is a strong word. Especially for you. Growing up, you experienced what two people called love for the sake of outward appearances, but it was really only a mask they wore to conceal their hatred of each other. How can you say you love him when you don't even know what real love is like?

He waits for the response buried in your throat, trepidation taking hold of every thought outlining the possibility of reciprocation and twisting it into a mental lashing. Has his sensitivity on this matter really messed it all up? His eyes flicker between yours, pursing his lips and holding back a sigh when the answer doesn't come. He can’t tell what you’re thinking but heaven knows he’s trying to nurture the power of telepathy right now.

You know he wants the truth, whatever it may be. You swallow, chest tight as you try to form the words. You think of the kindness shown by others in your life, all the good experiences mixed in with all the shit life has thrown in your face. Jimin falls into the extremely good category, like the "I didn't know I could feel this good" category. You can't imagine a day going by that you don't talk to him. You don't want to.

"I don't have a good example of love-love to go by," you begin, watching him try to hide the disappointment in his face. "But I'd like to think this is what it's supposed to be."

Tears sting your eyes. Vulnerability is hard, but you're willing to take a chance on him and he realizes how big that is for you. Salty sweet tears of relief run down his cheeks as he kisses away your shared insecurities.

He could spend forever tangled in your embrace, innocently kissing away your worries and fears. Your fingers drag their way through his hair and you rut your hips into him, grinding your pelvises together. Being this intimate is new and exciting, but it's leaving you too vulnerable and is becoming an increasingly prominent source of anxiety.

Gripping the edges of the blanket at his back, you pull it across his shoulder blades as though it will cover the goosebumps speckling your chest. "Mmm. Please don’t make me wait any longer.”

He steadies himself on his elbows, fingers dancing with strands of your hair against the carpet. He rolls his hips against you a few times with a smile, letting his dick slide against your soaked, sensitive clit before lifting back and lining himself up properly.

“Tell me you want me,” he whimpers, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance with shallow taps. You try to lure him in by contracting the muscles in your pussy touching the head, hoping the feeling is enough rather than words. You’re having a hard time with those right now.

“Aaah…” he moans, dipping his head to your neck a moment. “You really are impatient.”

Slowly, he glides himself in about an inch, feeling you tense at the intrusion. The stretch makes you breathe a moan into his ear, causing him to snap his head back up to make eye contact with you. His chest is heaving as he waits, trying to give you time to adjust without blowing his load immediately. The way you’re trying to torture him by squeezing your walls around him is not making things easy.

“More, please,” you sigh, gripping the thick meat of his ass and pulling him towards you. “I want you.”

Finally, he gives in to the pleasure. His eyes roll into the back of his head as he bottoms out in one smooth motion. You squeak a brief sound of satisfaction, enjoying the dark hunger blazing in his eyes when they focus back on your face. He tries to reel the self-control back in, dragging his cock out at a leisurely pace before slowly working it back in. The last thing he wants is to hurt you, for this to be an unpleasant experience. But god. You feel so good. Too good.

“I always want you,” you breathe, hooking your legs around his waist and rolling your hips up to meet his as they come back down.

It’s difficult to think when you’re such a gorgeous mess beneath him. With your eyebrows knitting together, jaw hanging open, an apologetic look in your eyes as your hand shoots up to grip the back of his neck for better leverage to thrust yourself back up at him: you’re the epitome of perfection. His pace quickens with a spike of adrenaline surging through his veins. Soon his mouth hangs open, mirroring yours as he’s overwhelmed with the sensation of your tight, wet hole squeezing his cock like it’s the only place it’s ever needed to belong.

“J-Jimin,” you whine, looking down to catch the way your own tits press together, bouncing in unison with your writhing bodies. You try to see past your tits, hoping to catch a glimpse of his length disappearing inside of you, but the shadows cast by the blanket make it hard to see much of anything. So you drag your eyes back up to meet his, absolutely destroyed by the wonder painted all over his features. He’s looking at you like you’re the most perfect human he’s ever seen.

Because you are.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, bringing his open mouth down over yours.

With your tongues duking it out with each other, he pistons his cock into you with a vigor unlike anything you’ve experienced in your life. The squelching of your pussy while being mercilessly pounded is background noise to the sound of his balls slapping against your ass. You groan a garbled sound into his mouth, trying to remember how to breathe and process pleasure at the same time.

He moves to your neck, latching onto a sensitive spot immediately. This combined with the weight of him pressing down on your chest has you heaving, exposing more of your neck for him to explore. Your sweaty bodies slide against each other and you roam your fingers through his damp hair, savoring the feel of his tongue gliding up and down your neck until he settles on a place that makes you curl your fingers around those strawberry blonde locks.

You never thought you’d feel safe like this, and yet here you are. You’re about to lose yourself in the emotional implications of your progress when he slips right out and thrusts up against your clit, immediately apologizing. You cry out at the loss, wishing he could fill you up all day every day for the rest of your life. Because without him you feel so empty.

He chuckles nervously. “Slippery… Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You smile, placing a small kiss on his lips. “I’m fine. But I think you’re working too hard. Why don’t you relax?”

You place a hand on his chest, facilitating the switch in your positions. Jimin rolls flat on his back with a grin, blanket trapped beneath him. There’s nothing to hide behind now. You finally take in the sight of his cock standing at attention, its beautiful girthy form being suffocated within the cream-covered condom. It’s a perfect size. Not too big. Not too small. Most of all it’s wide enough to fill you up, and so fucking delicious-looking. You could pop the condom off and take him into your mouth right now. He must see the thought cross your mind as you lick your lips because he grabs your wrists and guides you up to meet his face.

“Come back to me. Your Prince Charming would like to kiss you,” he coaxes in a cloyingly sweet tone. “There will be time to kiss me elsewhere later.”

“Oh, you’re my Prince Charming?” You can’t help but smile. He makes your heart swell with joy, even when he’s being a brat. “How long have you been holding onto that one?”

“Since the day I decided you were Snow White,” he says breathlessly.

“I told you that animals don’t actually like me as much as you think they do. Birds poop on me all the time.”

“And I told you Granny says that’s good luck.” He presses his lips to your cheek and grabs your waist. “I just wanted to sweep you off your feet,” he sheepishly admits, eyes darting away for a moment.

You straddle his waist, aligning yourself with his cock. “And tell me, what do you want now?”

“I want…” His eyes glaze over as he feels you sink down, grunting a weak “please” when you’re flush with his pelvis, unmoving. His hands link themselves with yours as you lean over him. Instead of looking anywhere else or trying to get you to move your hips, he stills and looks deep into your eyes. “I want to be your happily ever after, my lovely princess.”

His words catch you off guard and tears begin falling with your stunned blinks. He’s always looked at you like a princess, hasn’t he? It doesn’t matter how screwed up you may feel, or even how screwed up you actually are. He loves you. He cares for you. And he wants you to see what he sees so badly that he will point the mirror on the wall towards you every day until you see that you truly are the fairest of them all.

“Please don’t cry,” he says, wiping the tears from your cheeks. There are already tears forming in his eyes too. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am,” you smile, lowering yourself to press your chests together. His arms wrap around you, offering comforting strokes with his fingertips against your back. His cock is still buried in your pussy and it’s distracting. He would love nothing more than to thrust up into you and spill himself in your guts.

“Tell me you love me,” you beg in a hushed whisper, kissing him like he’s the only form of oxygen you’re going to get for the rest of the night.

“I love you,” he whispers back between greedy, sloppy kisses.

You roll your hips, granting the movement he’s been craving as you slowly bounce on his cock. When he groans you clench around him and pick up your pace, hoping that you’re not as sloppy as you feel. Between the tears and the emotions swirling in your chest, your hips are a stuttering mess. If you are being a terrible top, he doesn’t say anything. He rocks himself with your slow, fucked out pace, hitting a heavenly spot inside you with each pivot your hips make to meet his again.

“I love you,” he repeats into the air as you lean back and steady yourself by placing your palms on his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut as you begin a new, rapid tempo that threatens to make him cum in seconds. He slurs out a whine of incoherent sounds, indicating you’re bringing him closer to the edge of release.

The shy, proud grin spreads across your face like wildfire as you watch him physically struggle to compose himself. “Got a big load for me, Charming? Or is it reasonably-sized?”

His face is flush and those big black pupils are dilated so wide you can’t tell them apart from the irises anymore. He wants to tell you to slow down so he can drag this out some more, but his climax is racing the words trapped in his throat. He grabs your hands and pulls you down close to him so he can kiss you again and again.

“Y/N… Ah…. I can’t....” He’s sucking air through clenched teeth between kisses, trying his best to push back the tightness in his balls.

“It’s okay, Jimin. Let go. Cum for me.”

With that he quickly wraps his arms around your waist, digging his fingernails into your sides as he takes control from beneath you, fucking you hard and fast as he chases his release. Your body shakes as he relentlessly thrusts those sinful hips upwards in quick, powerful strokes, holding you in a tight embrace like you might float away if he loosens his grip. You moan into each other’s mouths, the muffled sounds mingling as you crash your tongues against one another.

“I love you,” he whispers again, desperately this time.

“I love you too,” you respond breathlessly, doing your best to keep up with the insane tempo he’s set.

“Oh,” he quickly gasps, unable to fight the curse on the tip of his tongue. “Baby… Fuck... I’m cumming.”

The rhythm of his thrusts somehow increases in speed and you’re relieved to hear him gasp out the affirmation of his release. A small part of you is worried you won’t be able to take much more, even though you really want to; it’s been some time since anything has been between your legs that didn’t run on batteries. This is so much better.

Needy moans spill into your mouth with your name on repeat between breaths. He pumps himself into you with one last burst of power. Once. Twice. Three times. His hips shake beneath yours and fall limp against the floor as he chews on your bottom lip. Jimin cumming is hottest fucking thing you’ve ever experienced in your life and tonight you’ve heard it twice.

He allows your lip to snap back to you and plants a kiss on your forehead before rolling you over onto your back and slipping himself from inside of you. “Will you stay here tonight?”

You nod with a tired smile. “If you still want me.”

“I always want you,” he whispers with a shy kiss to your cheek. “The bed’s a bit more comfortable though.”

“I really didn’t mean to say it,” Jeongguk whines, face buried in his hands as he sits on Jimin’s couch.

Jimin puffs his cheeks, sparing a glance at the clock on his phone. He made plans to watch a movie with you once you got home from work. And by watch a movie, he means to disregard the movie as background noise and fuck you senseless. What he didn’t plan on was his friend stopping by for an impromptu therapy session; it happens often enough that he usually is prepared for such an event. But there’s only been one thing on his mind for the past week, and it’s been bent over every surface in this apartment every day the moment you get home. He’s eager to keep that streak going.

You’ll be home soon and Jeongguk doesn’t show any signs of leaving. Jimin decides to text you, letting you know the door is still unlocked, but he has company so don’t come running in while tearing your shirt off unless you want to entertain them both. He smiles when he hits send, eager for a response. It’s at this moment Jeongguk looks up at his friend, realizing he’s enamored with his phone.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Jeongguk looks crushed, sinking back into the cushion and rubbing his thumbs over the yellow plush dog Yoongi had constructed for Jimin at work. Its silky fur is comforting to Jeongguk, but not enough to soothe the ache in his heart. He fucked things up with this new teacher and he really doesn’t know how to smooth things over. Where does he even begin?

“I’m sorry,” Jimin says, quickly pocketing his phone and making sure Jeongguk knows he has his full attention. He places a hand on his knee and squeezes. “It’s okay. Just apologize to her.”

"How can I do that when every time I talk to her I can't even think straight? I mess up everything that I do when she's around," he groans, clearly resigned to his own hopelessness.

"How can you possibly mess up two words?" Jimin asks, quirking an eyebrow at his friend. He reaches for Jeongguk's jaw and begins practicing ventriloquy as he opens and closes it in time with his advice. "I'm. Sorry."

Jeongguk playfully slaps his hand away, "It's not that easy and you know it." He sighs heavily. “Besides. You know me. I already messed up an apology. ”

The smile falls from Jimin’s face. “What happened now? Don’t tell me it’s worse than the balls conversation.”

Jeongguk tents his fingers on either side of his temples and inhales deeply. On exhale he screeches, memory replaying his most recent mistake one more time.

“...That bad, huh?” He frowns, crossing the room to get him a beverage.

Jeongguk runs his fingers through his hair a few times before he snatches the banana milk from Jimin. He’s just gotta focus on something else. Anything else. He starts chugging the bottle, milk spilling from the corners of his mouth.

“Hey, slow down. I’m gonna be sick if you throw that stuff up.”

Jimin reaches for the small, plastic jug but it’s already empty by the time Jeongguk allows him to take it.

Jeongguk whimpers, “Not even banana milk can fix this.”

“Jeongguk. Tell me what happened.” It’s rare that Jimin ever gets stern with any of his friends, but sometimes they have a habit of getting in their own heads. He can pull them out by telling them what they need to hear, even if it isn’t always nice. He’s got a nagging feeling in his gut that this might be one of those times.

His friend leans back into the couch with palms pressed against his forehead. “I whipped a tennis ball across the court, but it fucking went out the door to the hall and hit her while she was walking by.”

“It was an accident!” Jimin insists.

“I know! But she! Doesn’t!” He pounds his hands into his forehead like it can knock the memory from his brain.

“Why not?” Jimin asks, suddenly suspicious. “What did you do when you realized you’d thrown something at someone? You apologized, right? Right?”

Jeongguk grits his teeth a subdued screech in his throat. “I ran over when I heard her scream and I was panicking so I just! I said ‘I’m so fucking sorry!’”

“That’s good--”

“And ‘Are you okay?!’”

“Sounds like you did fine---”

“But my brain couldn’t decide which one to say first so it merged them together! And I screamed at her!”

“Oh no.”

“Are you fucking sorry?! I screamed it Jimin. Are you fucking sorry! All of my students standing there watching me have a mental breakdown when she’s the one hurt.”

He’s practically in tears, damn near hysterical. Jimin offers a sympathetic grimace before going in for a big, comforting hug.

“Jeonggukie, it’s okay.”

“Not it’s not! I can never face her again. I can never face my students again. I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life.”

Jimin squeezes him tighter. “You’ll get through this though. You know how I know?”

“How?” The words are muffled when spoken into the crook of his neck.

Jeongguk has buried himself dangerously close to the spots you’ve been claiming for yourself. He hopes his friend doesn’t notice the red bruises you’ve left behind.

“Because. I can think of a million other things that you’ve done that are way more embarrassing than this. And you’ve lived through them all. If anything your students will see you as someone they can relate to.”

“And Frizzle?”

“You have to do something genuinely nice for her and express your sincerest apologies. Take her somewhere nice for dinner. Admit you screwed up and you want to make things better. Explain how your life is a chain of embarrassing experiences. Tell her some stories of your other fails so she doesn’t think you’re being cruel. If you can’t think of any, I can make you a list. I really do remember things you’ve done that are worse than this, you know. ”

“No! No. I guarantee I’ve blocked them out for a reason.” The black-haired man sighs. He seems to at least be comforted by the thought that the situation isn’t totally unsalvageable. He stands with a lopsided smile. “Thanks, Jiminie. I love you.”

Jimin’s mouth curls into a smile as he goes in for one more hug. “You never forget to pay me, Jeonggukie.”

Jeongguk steps across the threshold and is greeted by the very woman he’s been complaining to Jimin about for the better part of an hour. Every muscle in his body tenses and freezes in place. She’s just come out of the apartment next door. Jimin cocks his head at his friend, curiously watching the blatant change in body language.

“What is she doing here?” Jeongguk hisses at Jimin like the woman isn’t standing close enough to hear.

“Of course you’d be here. Don’t worry, Mr. Jeon, I’m on my way out, unless you’ve got something else to pile on to my hazing?”

Jeongguk clamps his mouth shut and tries to move out of her way, but she moves in the same direction. Both of them immediately try to go around, mirroring each other’s actions. This must be her. Jimin rubs his temple as he watches the awkward dance Jeongguk and “Frizzle” do as she tries to move past him. For a tall, muscular guy, Jeongguk seems to shrivel in stature the longer he stands there looking at her, stuttering out half of an apology before finally gripping her shoulders like he’s going to pick her up.

“Please let me go,” he murmurs, swallowing hard, despite the fact that he’s the one with his hands on her.

Jimin runs his fingers down his cheeks like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Jeongguk’s aloof nature seems to have been amplified tenfold by the presence of this woman, which is an impressive feat. He’s got it so bad for this girl he really can’t think straight.

Jeongguk takes a deep breath and books it down the hallway, forgetting about his friend entirely. He gets to the stairwell and hunches over the bannister to screech like a pterodactyl, hoping to release some of the anguish tearing at his chest. He sighs, composing himself as he ascends the steps, patting his pockets for the comfort of escape. His heart drops. That familiar jingle of keychains and metal is missing. “My keeeeeeys!”

It’s then he realizes he’s going to have to walk back past you in shame to collect the missing item from Jimin’s apartment. Jimin wishes he could undo all of the secondhand embarrassment he just experienced. Being that this will be burned into his memory for some time, he slinks into your apartment for a healthy dose of distraction.

The scent of cinnamon and vanilla hang in the air. You've been baking to keep yourself busy. You thought about asking your guild if anyone wanted to play online for a bit, but you really weren't in the mood for video games. You knew what to expect and yet you still find yourself disappointed by the lack of Holiday cards and letters.

Even if they don't give a shit about you, you still find your heart breaking, wishing you could know if your parents are doing okay. Maybe they're finally getting better. Maybe they're finally getting that divorce they desperately need. You whisk the batter, losing yourself in a sea of possibilities, regardless of whether it matters in the first place.

Then again, maybe they're doing better now that they don't have you around to use as a point of contention. They could be happy now that the supposed source of their misery is absent from their life. Your jaw tightens along with your grip on the mixing bowl cradled in your arms.

They probably don't think about you at all. How many times had you walked back from school alone in the dark because they forgot to pick you up? How many times had they straight up forgot you existed? They don't care. They don't even think about you. In fact, they're probably so drunk mom is passed out on the couch and dad is in a similar position in his office with a bottle of scotch and a nub of a burnt out cigarette hanging from his mouth.

You're mixing quickly, scraping loudly against the ceramic bowl in an attempt to drown out the anger in your head. It might not be enough to cover your incessant thoughts but it sure as hell camouflages Jimin's approach.

You bite your lip, white hot tears stinging the corners of your eyes. It's stupid. Why do you care so much when they obviously don't? You feel manic having the day off of work. There's too much time to think now that you don't have your customers to dote on and care for. You don't realize how slippery your fingers are now that they’re coated in a layer of sweat. The bowl slips from your hands and shatters against the floor, coating your floor and feet in a pasty splatter of dough.

“Are you okay?” Jimin asks, scooping his arms around your waist and dragging you away from the mess.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel his embrace pulling your backwards, voice vibrating in your ear. You stumble backwards, losing traction over the spilled batter. He’s careful to get you away from the shards of glass littering the kitchen tile as you fall.

“I thought you had work to do,” you say, embarrassed by your lack of finesse.

“I finished up early. I… knocked but you didn’t answer,” he replies, taking a moment to inspect your face.

The mixture intended for cookies haphazardly sprinkles your cheeks and your eyes are still glossy from the tears gathered in them moments ago.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern dripping from the two simple words.

You hate making him worry so you force a counterfeit smile to split your lips. “Nothing!”

“I can tell you’re lying,” he insists, wiping your face with his fingers. “It’s okay. You can talk to me.”

You hang your head low and press into his shoulder. “I was just thinking about my family. Please. It’s not important.” Another phony smile adorns your features as you look up at him. “But I’d like it very much if you could take my mind off it.”

He offers a warm smile and decides not to press further. He knows enough of your past to know you’d rather not speak on it unless you’re the one offering information. Despite the curiosity nagging at the corners of his mind, he plants a kiss on your lips instead. “Any requests?”

“Take me away from my own brain.”

He giggles, ready to make you forget every word you’ve ever learned that’s not his name, but he pauses, briefly recalling the reason he stopped by in the first place. “Oh wait. I wanted to ask you about that.”

You half-laugh, half-scoff. “It’s okay. I’ve accepted there’s no escape.”

Jimin shakes his head at you. “No, I mean would you like to get away from here for the night? My friends and I go to Taehyung’s parents’ cabin every year on New Years Eve. It’s like a little tradition.”

You blink at him. “Oh you mean Mr. Kim--er,” you correct yourself when he cringes. “Tannie’s dad? Wouldn’t it be weird if I showed up? I don’t want to intrude… And I would feel so awkward not knowing any of your friends.”

“They’re all really laid back. They’re like an extended family. Let me tell you about them,” he suggests, twining his fingers in yours and waving your hands around. “The drive to the cabin takes a couple hours. That’s plenty of time to give you a history lesson.”

“I don’t know…”

“You know,” he begins, swiping his batter-coated finger with his tongue. “Granny says it’s good luck when you kiss someone you love on New Year’s Eve at midnight.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the cheesy grin you feel coming on. “Is that so?”

He nods enthusiastically, sparing a glance at the shards of glass and spilled batter scattered across your kitchen floor. “Besides, what better way to keep your mind off of... everything?”

The man can be subtle when he wants to be, but you still follow his line of sight to the mess creeping down the slight slope in the tile.

“I have to sweep this up,” you mumble, ignoring giving him a finite answer as you cross the room to gather cleaning supplies.

There’s a protest caught in his throat that dies the moment you bend over to search for the dustpan in the closet. He saunters over, licking his lips and letting his fingers dig into the soft flesh at your hips. Your eyes go wide as his length presses against your ass, already half hard. He offers a playful thrust as a joke, but if you drop your pants then the joke part of that thrust is totally cancelled. You sigh loudly and arch your back, slowly rising to looking over your shoulder at him. He swears time stops for a moment as half-lidded eyes chant his name without you saying a word.

“I really have to clean this up. It’s wet. The-The spot on the floor is wet.” You stumble over raspy and frantic words, all the moisture missing from your mouth. He tests your resolve by sneaking a finger below the band of your jeans, skirting his digits just outside of your underwear before pressing the silky fabric into your clit. With just a few slow circles, he has you moaning and weakly leaning back against him for support.

“You’re right. It’s a little wet. I should help you clean this up, don’t you think?” His breath is hot against your neck as he dips his hand lower, sneaking along your pantyline before pushing the barrier aside to dive in your cunt without warning.

You’re practically melting as he pumps his fingers into you, tongue dragging over your neck in a teasing swipe. It takes all of your willpower, but you grip his forearm with a groan. “You’re evil.”

“I’m Charming,” he insists with a grin, complying with your unspoken request to abandon his endeavors.

“I need to clean this before it gets in every last crack.”

Jimin opens his mouth to say something crass but gets distracted by your smiley kiss.

“We’ll get to that later. Go. Sit over there,” you instruct, pointing to the empty chairs on the other side of the bar-style counter.

He sulks over to the counter and sits with a huff, planting his elbows on the edge and resting his cheeks on the flat surface of his palms. It’s hard to ignore his bottom lip protruding in a pout as you get to work cleaning the mess you’ve stupidly made. Hard, but not impossible.

When it’s clear you’re ignoring him, he sits up straight and folds his arms over his chest, a puff of air passing his lips as he takes in his surroundings. Suddenly, his eyes zone in on the familiar form of a package containing delicious pastries only made in one shop.

“Mistledough? You went to Mistledough?” he asks excitedly. You must have met Jin, if that’s the case.

You laugh, “Oh yeah. I stopped in to get some baked treats for the pups a couple weeks ago and this smooth-talking guy comes out from the back with a big smile. His shoulders are so big and his waist is so tiny that he looks like a dorito. Right? Anyway he’s doing this whole bit about how good this stuff is and how happy he gets when pretty girls come into his shop to order it. He definitely knows how to advertise because I bought a whole package of them without even trying it first. It’s… so good though. Have you ever had it? What I have now might be a little stale, but I’m sure it’s still fine to eat. Do you want some?”

You poke your head above the counter to see Jimin’s arms crossed over his chest. He isn’t looking at you but he definitely looks annoyed. Is he seriously still pouting because he has to wait ten whole minutes to put his fingers back in you?

“No,” he pouts quietly, entire demeanor flip-flopped in an instant. “I don’t want any. I know what it tastes like.

You frown, thinking maybe it’s something you said. “Do you not like that place?”

Jimin puffs his cheeks out and removes the thick black frames from his face to clean them with his shirt. “No, that place is fine.”

Anxiety races in your chest, heart snapping in two at the sound of his cold tone. “I’m sorry,” you say, gripping the dustpan tightly like he’s going to break things off. “Is it… Did I do something wrong?”

He catches your eyes, immediately filling his gut with guilt. “Ah, no, no. I’m sorry.” He licks his lips and rolls his eyes away, not wanting to look at you when he admits this. “It’s just… That handsome, wide-shouldered guy... That’s Seokjin. He’s my friend, but--Ah the way you talked about him just now, I got jealous. I’m sorry.”

Relief washes over you like a tidal wave. You cock your head to one side and stand to lean over the counter. No one’s ever been jealous of you before, or in regards to you; it’s kind of baffling that you don’t have the brain capacity to be flattered. “Jealous? Why?”

He spares a look at you and darts his eyes away. “Because.” He sighs loudly and slinks back in his chair. “He’s tall and those big shoulders let everyone know how strong he is. People can look at him and say wow, that guy is so handsome. He just… exudes manliness. Do you know what people say about me?”

The slow blink and the way he swallows tells you that he’s having trouble expressing the distasteful things he must have heard over the years.

“Jimin.” Your fingers grip his chin. “Nevermind what people say. They don’t matter. Do they?”

You tilt your head, trying to get him to look at you, gaze remaining steady on his eyes until he meets it.

“No…”

“You matter. But you’re hard on yourself. Do I matter?”

“Yes…” he breathes, offended that you’d even ask such a question.

“Well then you should listen to me. I’ll tell you what I think. I think you’re sweet and cute. I think you’re sexy and fun. I think I love the beauty of your soul as much as I love your handsome face. I think your height is not a measure of your worth and I’m not sure why it’s important to you, but I will hug you all day every day to remind you that you’re the perfect height to always bury your face in my tits.”

He laughs, visibly relaxing despite the blush creeping in his cheeks. “You’re good to me.”

“I think,” you continue, suddenly feeling shy yourself. “You don’t have anything to be jealous about. This world only has one Jimin. One who is perfect as himself. And I care about him so much that I want to go with him to a cabin where I won’t know anyone because when he’s around, my heart hurts less and the world feels less cold and when I’m with him, despite my paranoia and concerns about being murdered... he makes me feel safe. I love him.”

He smiles sweetly, leaning in to plant a kiss on your lips. “Who’s that Jimin? He sounds amazing. But I’ll have to teach him a lesson for stealing your affection.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head, nuzzling your nose close to his. “You dork.”

“You’re coming with me then?”

“It’s a date, my prince,” you reply with a grin.

“Thank goodness. I already cancelled my ride.”

The snow whips against your windshield wipers. Heat blares through the vents, the radio playing softly in the background. Jimin looks over at you, placing his hand on your thigh. You smile, giving it a firm squeeze and pressing it to your lips while your eyes squint through the blinding white obscuring the road.

“Do you see a sign to get back on the highway?” you ask, trying to bite back the anxiety brewing in your belly.

The “EXIT ONLY” sign responsible for your detour had been obscured by the heavy snowfall. Being that the inclement weather has put you in an unfamiliar area, you’re hopeful that the poorly plowed backroads are a short-lived side trip.

“Don’t worry. There has to be a way to get back on,” he assures you, giving your fingers a squeeze as he squints out the passenger side window. “Oh! That sign says there’s a gas station ahead. Maybe we could ask in there?”

You eye the instrument panel of your dashboard. The needle indicating the fuel level of your tank hovers two lines above “E.” You promptly go back to watching the road, wind whipping snow off nearby trees. You’re taking it slow as you come around a curve, but your tires spin when they hit a patch of ice.

“Oh shit!” Releasing his fingers, you throw your arm up to shield Jimin’s chest as do your best to turn your steering wheel into the skid as the vehicle veers off the side of the road.

The car makes a skewed slide to the shoulder of the road and continues to glide onto the snow-covered grass, coming to a complete stop before hitting any of the nearby trees. You exhale a ragged breath and look over at Jimin.

“Are you okay?”

He nods, carding his fingers through his hair. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” Your response is sturdy, composed, but its foundation is a lie that could come crumbling down at any moment. Shaky fingers reach over to click the hazard button in the unlikely event that anyone else drives by. You haven’t seen another car in over twenty minutes, but it’s still best to err on the side of caution.

“Just icy. Gas station?” you ask, trying to get your bearings. You don’t think the car did a 180 but you’re a little shaken up and could use a break.

Jimin points in the direction the sign indicated. “Not too far, I think. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod silently, checking your surroundings as you attempt to back up. The wheels beneath the car spin in endless cycles, bringing you nowhere. You swallow hard, turning the wheel in the opposite direction and trying again as you apply more force to the gas pedal. When the car doesn’t budge, you fear the worst and place it in park. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you slip on a pair of thin gloves and open the door to inspect the terrain.

With your first step outside your stomach drops with your legs on the slippery surface below your boots. You clutch the door but it’s too late; your legs split and you fall to the ground with a painful smack. You can’t help the pained whimper that spills out of your mouth in short, embarrassing bursts. You’ll be fine. You just need a minute.

“Snow! Are you okay?” Hearing your cries, Jimin quickly dons his mittens and gets out of the car.

As soon as he rounds the front of the car, passing the light on the driver’s side, his boots lose all traction. He stumbles forward a bit, trying to regain his footing before his legs finally slip from beneath him. The impact his ass makes on the ground beside you makes you wince. He grimaces, sucking air through his teeth as he leans back. Even still, he reaches out and touches your cheek with a puffy red mitten, opening his mouth to ask if you’re okay but not able to manage anything other than a broken groan.

You look up at him as he leans over you, feeling the fingers trapped beneath the fuzzy mitten at your cheek. Suddenly you start to giggle. Despite not knowing the source, seeing your amusement causes the groan in his throat to transform into a breathless laugh.

“We really are messes, huh?” you say, pulling down on the red scarf adorning his shoulders to bring him down to meet your lips.

His mouth is hot, leaving behind breathy vapors in the air as he sucks your bottom lip, turning the innocent nature of the kiss into something more passionate. Before your brain can register the action, his tongue already propping your mouth open. If the wind wasn’t whipping snow on your exposed cheeks, he might have been able to keep you warm and make you forget your surroundings completely.

Reluctantly you push him back. “Jimin we have to get up. What if another car comes and rear ends us? We would die.”

He sighs, wincing as he struggles to stand on the slippery surface. “Okay, but be careful getting up.”

He circles the car, inspecting for any signs of damage as you crawl on hands and knees towards the front of the car. Placing your cheek on the ground you look beneath to see if anything might be caught underneath. When you both come up empty, you carefully get back in the car.

Jimin looks over at you suddenly, an expression of realization coating his features. “Did you turn traction control off?”

You slowly close your eyes and run cold, wet gloved fingers down your face. “I’m an idiot. I should have thought of that.”

Jimin shrugs and kisses your cheek with a proud smile. “I just passed my driver’s test so it’s all fresh in my mind.”

Before long, you’re back on the road and rolling up to a pump at the gas station. Jimin disappears inside while you work on filling the tank. It’s filling painfully slowly so you start playing with the layer of snow on the top lip of the pump. You begin to gather snow, picking some from the ground and rolling it around to form a tiny, perfect snowball.

The bell on the door jingles as Jimin exits, a look of concentration on his face as he looks up and down the road beside the lot. An abrupt wave of cold shocks his system as a snowball disintegrates against his chin. He looks around for the culprit, but the only person in the parking lot is you. He blinks a few times, realizing you’re cackling like a witch as you screw the cap back on your tank.

Instead of forming his own snowball to throw back, his bottom lip protrudes in a pout and he puffs up like a bird who’s had their feathers ruffled one too many times. He must still be sore from falling. You start to feel guilty and start to apologize as he draws near, pulling him into an embrace. He leans into you, walking you back until you’re pressed against the car. You blush, feeling the weight of his body trapping you as he pushes his mouth onto yours. He removes a glove to fist your hair between his fingers and gives a sharp tug. Once again, he takes the warmth you offer and turns the heat up. Is this what he’s like when he’s annoyed and horny? You’ll remember to be bratty if this is what it earns you.

You pull back a moment, searching the darkness in his eyes for the need buried in them. Pulling his scarf aside, you latch onto his neck with the heat of your mouth, making sure to suck and tease the spot you know drives him crazy. You feel him lean into you with a moan as he swipes his hand erratically over your car. Feeling pleased with yourself, you grind your hips up into him.

You don’t see the snow he’s gathered into a pile on the top of your car, but you sure as hell feel it when swipes it all over the edge with one hand and holds the collar of your coat open with the other. The snow transforms into water almost immediately, leaving icy trails down your back and soaking into your clothes.

You screech against him just as he takes off running across the parking lot, giggling like a madman. He played you. You wiggle what snow you can out of your coat and give chase, gathering snow in your hands as you go. He holds his hands up as if to surrender and repeating a slew of “sorry”s, but something about the way he’s laughing the whole time makes it feel a bit disingenuous. Soft snowballs smash against his legs. You wish you had better aim.

As you move to gather more snow, he’s already firing off the ammunition he’s secretly gathered, pelting your coat with white. Running up to him through the barrage, you find he’s empty and he puts his hands out again. Seeing the snowbank behind him, you push him back into it, allowing a cushion of cold to break his fall. The melody of his laughter rings through your ears as your climb on top of him and sprinkle what’s left of your fistful of powdery snow all over his face.

You’re both laughing so hard you’re crying. After taking a moment to calm his laughter, he sits up on his elbows and removes a loop from the scarf at his neck to drape it around yours.

“Come on. Let’s get to the cabin so we can warm up.”

You wet your lips, the cold immediately freezing your spit. “What you’re not warm?”

“You pushed me into the snow. I’m cold,” he whines.

“You covered me in white,” you say, not thinking about the words until they’re out.

Jimin quirks an eyebrow with a knowing smile. “I thought you liked that. You were begging for it yesterday, weren’t you?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“You’re friends with Hope on the Street? J-Hope? Really?” you ask in disbelief. The guy is somewhat of a celebrity so it’s a little unnerving knowing he’s going to be at this cabin. The segment he did on puppies recently really brightened up your day.

“His real name is Hoseok,” Jimin says with a nod, crunching into a potato chip. “He also goes by Hobi.”

You can’t stop yourself from asking. “That whole dildo thing everyone says? Is it true?”

Jimin coughs out the chip he had been chewing and you immediately apologize, but he laughs. “What have you heard? I’m not much of a gossip.”

You shake your head defensively. “I’m not either! It’s just… There are so many rumors. I’ve heard it was a vibrator, cucumber, a cordless mic… And it’s always an absurd length, like twelve inches or something like that.”

Jimin laughs so hard he snorts. “Oh my god. No! Okay, I’m going to tell you the truth, but you can’t tell anyone I told you, okay?”

“...Okay,” you agree, not realizing the pit you’ve fallen into.

“If you promise you won’t tell…” he trails, looking out the window.

“I pinky promise,” you say as you stick out your little finger. You’re too curious now. You have to know.

“Don’t let on that you know, either,” he continues as he links his pinky with yours and looks over at you. “Promise?”

Your eyes dart over to his for a split second before focusing back on the road. “I promise, my prince.”

He smiles, taking the opportunity to hold your hand while he talks. “Hmm. By the time we get there hopefully you’ll feel like you know them a little. I’ve told you some pretty tame stories so far but… The truth is that we’ve all known each other since we were kids. So I know all of their dirty laundry.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you even though you can’t pay attention to his suggestive facial expressions. Why do you feel like you’re getting more than you bargained for?

“You’re such a dork. Just tell me about J-H--Hoseok.”

“So impatient,” he teases with a sigh. “I mean honestly it’s not that bad. Hoseok and his girlfriend, Cat, have been together for a while now. They were… experimenting in the bedroom together. The dildo they were using was pretty small and she lost her grip on it. That’s really all there is to it. Someone must have heard him talking to the nurses.”

That makes total sense. Of course everything gets blown out of proportion. Poor guy.

“Don’t worry, he hasn’t let it get to him at all. He keeps a smile on and can talk around pretty much everything. But when you put him with Cat, together? They have no shame and if you’re not careful they’ll drag you into their filthy games.”

“Have they dragged you into them, Jimin?” you ask with a smile, genuinely curious with a side pang of envy. Whoever is dating someone as fine as J-Hope must be hot as hell. Just imagining Jimin being thrown into that mix has you salivating, wishing you could have been the meat in that sandwich instead.

“Maybe,” he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “B-But that was a long time ago.”

“Too bad,” you suck your teeth. “Sounds like it could be fun.”

Jimin’s eyes go wide and he swallows a nervous laugh, not wanting to accept the possibility so easily if it was only meant as a joke. “I mean if you’re interested I can always ask if they might want to.”

You laugh nervously, not expecting that possibility. “I… haha, let me meet them first. They might hate me for all you know. I tend to talk when I get nervous and then mess everything up.”

“It’s part of your charm. You’re cute when you get shy. You have this… innocence that’s endearing. They’ll love you. You’d probably be their new favorite... toy...” he trails off into a breathy whisper, losing himself in some daydream.

“Are you sure you won’t get jealous?” you ask, snapping him back to reality. “Mistledough man had you so moody.”

“Ah, Seokjin. You know, I once caught him jerking it to a muffin.”

You blink a few times. “Seokjin is the bakery dorito,” you affirm, keeping your eyes on the highway. “And you caught him jacking it … Jimin. Tell me mistledough is cum-free.”

He laughs. “Seokjin would never. Don’t worry. It wasn’t at the bakery.”

“But… why…?”

“I don’t know. I never received any context for it and I was too afraid to ask. Honestly, I think it’s his messed up relationship with his ‘not girlfriend.’” He uses air quotes to signify his distaste for the situation. “Pumpkin. At least he calls her that. Everyone else calls her Grump.”

“Oof. She a bitch?”

“If you were at the shop, you must have seen her.”

You pause to recall the day you’d stopped in. “There was this one girl that was staring at me but I figured it might be someone I knew from high school so I avoided eye contact. Got this chill down my spine though.”

“Yeah that’s her. She’s a little rough around the edges, but she’s secretly soft on the inside. She just needs time to warm up to people. I think she has a hard time showing affection. We’ve all known her almost as long as we’ve known each other. She just needs to get laid. Scratch that. She needs to get laid by Jin. They’ve been dancing around it for over a decade, Snow. Imagine if you and I never… for over ten years.”

You exhale air through puffed cheeks. “I’d have moved on after two. You’re lucky you made a move when you did.” You give his hand a playful squeeze. “Why haven’t they yet?”

“They’ve both been in love with each other for so long I think they’re blinded by it now,” he guesses with a shrug. “They’re so in love that they can’t even see it anymore. Maybe they never did. But there’s always this air of jealousy that makes it impossible for either of them to be happy with anyone else. I should probably sit them both down and talk them through it, but sometimes Seokjin… Ah, he closes his ears to anything he doesn’t like. Maybe this year will be different. She always comes so if you think she’s glaring at you, she probably is, but don’t take it personal.”

You nod in quiet contemplation for a moment before moving on. “Tannie’s dad?”

“Ah. Taehyung. He’s probably my closest friend. Don’t tell the others. Him and Star have been together since college and are so perfect for each other it makes my heart ache. They’re really… unique. It’s okay if you think they’re weird because they are. But that’s their charm. They listen to really old records and wear vintage clothes and talk about art all the time. It used to make me cringe at first but now it makes me happy. It’s probably because I don’t live with him anymore.”

You spare a curious glance at him “You lived with him?”

“Roommates right after high school. Before he went off to art school and got his degree. Then I went off to uni for business and marketing.”

“Ah, right. College. That thing that most people do after highschool. I’m dumb.”

Jimin frowns, knowing it’s a sore subject for you. “You’re not dumb. Be nice to yourself. It’s not your fault you never got a chance to go.”

Your fingers grip the steering wheel tightly, enough so your knuckles pale. “I know I’m not dumb. I could have been a vet by now. I was smart enough for it. I could have done it.”

He reaches out to place a reassuring palm on your shoulder. “You can still go back, you know.”

You shake your head, swallowing the bitter pill that you missed your chance for that kind of life. Things are different now. You like your job. You like your life. You don’t need to use schooling as an escape from your home. Maybe it’s time to let go of the resentment. You can still be smart and not go to college. You can still enjoy a job that doesn’t require a degree.

“I need to work on not being so bitter about my past,” you answer with a shake of your head. “I like where I am now and if I don’t, I can always change. Thank you for helping me remember that. So.. where were we? Taehyung?”

“Ah, I caught him sucking on her toes once,” he says very matter-of-factly.

“What?!”

“When he moved out and told me about his roommate, I thought he’d be living with another man. He invited me over to meet them. Imagine my surprise when I came by. The door to his room was wide open and he’s sitting there licking up the bottom of her foot, putting her toes in his mouth.”

“What did they do when they saw you standing there?” you purse your lips, wondering if Jimin had been a part of this couple’s sex life as well.

“Oh, they tried to laugh and play it off like ‘Oh no we were messing around... it’s not like that... Why would be doing something like that? Da da da.’ All the excuses, you know? But I saw it and I can’t unsee it. He had a boner and she looked like she was enjoying it.” He shakes his head.

“I still think it’s funny you know him. He pampers Tannie. A lot. Like he spends an absurd amount on that dog. He loves him so much. It’s so cute. Wait… Does that mean you know other Mr. Kim? Moni’s dad?”

Jimin looks over. “You know Namjoon too?”

“This isn’t so bad. I’ve at least seen these people,” you say, mostly to yourself as a comforting thought. “Actually, I gave him a dog treat for Moni and he just… Jimin, he ate it right in front of me. I didn’t know what to do so I just smiled.”

Jimin start roaring with laughter. “That sounds like Namjoonie. At least that was edible. I watched him drink perfume once. He said it smelled so good he wanted to see what it tasted like. I’m not sure how drunk he was, but he had to be pretty far gone. You know he’s really intelligent, but he makes some really bad decisions. He will deny this until the day he dies, but I was there for his ‘bad boy’ phase back in high school. He purposefully failed classes because he thought it made him look cooler and he’d always brag about blowing off dates with girls and pretending to be a loner. Not to mention he always wore some kind of black t-shirt with a fake deep quote on it, he had a leather jacket, painted his fingernails black, had a mohawk...”

“Really? That guy? Did he have a motorcycle too?” you snicker. “That would really sell it for me.”

“He may have painted blue flames on the side of his bicycle,” he jokes. “Do I have to worry about him stealing you too?”

You roll your eyes. “Tell me about another one and I’ll tell you who’s the most dangerous. Right now, you’re still winning.”

“Yoongi looks the most intimidating. He looks like a bad boy, covered in tattoos and piercings. He even has his dick pierced. I’ve seen it. Yes, it looks painful. People say he comes off as cold, but he’s really not.”

“Like Grump?”

“Hmmmm… Different. Have you ever heard of Inkspires? It’s the tattoo shop across town.”

You think for a moment. It’s not like you live in a big city, but you’re not sure you’ve ever had a reason to go to such a place. You rack your brain trying to think of the place he’s talking about. When you shake your head, he seems a little sad.

“Don’t worry. You’ll know them once I’m done. I’m working on rebranding them. Pro bono. I’m working to make it something everyone will recognize. Jisoo’s got a lot of ideas and I’m excited to bring them to life. It will take some time, but I think it will be worth it.” He smiles. “I think he might be bringing his new girlfriend. What did he call her? Plum? Melons?” He snaps his fingers. “Ah, Peaches.”

“Peaches?”

Jimin shrugs. “They started dating recently. I don’t have all the details yet. It’s kind of a big deal. He usually doesn’t bring a date. He usually doesn’t date. And unless something has changed-- which I don’t think it has-- he's still a virgin.”

Your mouth falls open. “Really? How? I mean, that’s kind of impressive, honestly. The world is so busy trying to sell sex. How do you keep away from it?”

Jimin shakes his head. “Trust me, I know. My whole business is embedded in it. I guess he’s never had anyone he really wanted to share the experience with. I told you, he’s a real soft-hearted guy. He works part time at Construct-a-Cub during the holidays. He donates a lot of stuff to charities for children.”

“Wow. He sounds like a really good person,” you say, genuinely stunned by the kindness people can show.

“Don’t be fooled. He’ll tell you he hates kids. Secret softie. But similar to Grump, if you think he’s being cold, he’s probably just wary. Give him time and he’ll warm up to you. Keep an open mind. And don’t judge a book by its cover.”

You nod. “Of course.”

“He’s the one who actually did my tattoo and piercings.”

“I meant to ask about those…”

“Tae, Guk, and I decided we were all gonna get them right after college. Kind of a celebration pact type thing. Tae chickened out after watching us go and since he already paid for it, Star ended up getting hers done in his place.”

“Ouch,” you hiss through your teeth, mentally conjuring the level of endurance that might take.

“It really wasn’t that bad.” He laughs. “I was surprised by how little it hurt compared to what I imagined.”

“Did you watch?”

“Hmm?”

“Star getting hers done.”

Jimin licks his lips and stares out the window with a shy smile. “Yoongi offered to kick everyone out, but she insisted we stay. Tae didn’t talk to us for a week. He’s a baby sometimes. He knows she only has eyes for him. I think she’s an exhibitionist. Don’t be surprised if you catch her walking around naked.”

You hold back a snort with a pang of irrational jealousy. “What? For real?”

“I’m joking. Kind of. She’s soft and sweet and as a couple they’re pretty reserved. But I’ve heard them competing with Cat and Hobi for loudest cabin sex.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “And I guess that just leaves Jeongguk. Where do I start? He keeps humiliating himself in front of his coworker. He’s got a big crush on her but his brain just melts any time he’s close to her. For instance, he started going on about how heavy it is to carry around his balls. He kind of put his foot in his mouth, since he was talking about soccer balls. You know, he kind of reminds me of you. Almost like you’re related.”

“Jimin!” You choke on your own spit, trying to focus on the lines separating the lanes.

Jimin raises his eyebrows, feigning innocence. “What?”

“How did you know?”

“Well, it’s pretty boring actually. After I came out of your apartment covered in your juices, he accused me of eating someone’s pussy. I showed him a picture of you and he told me you guys are cousins.”

“Okay forget I asked. Please don’t say any more,” you plead, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “I can’t believe this shit. Why are you friends with my cousin?... That means… That Taehyung… oh fuck. I’ve been playing video games with Mr. Kim for years. Oh god. I’ve been talking about you to both of them in-game. Oh god, this is so weird. Let’s go back to when I didn’t know my cousin has been friends with my boyfriend for literal years. Our town is small, but how fucking small is the world when I moved from the city and I’m still dating my cousin’s friend?”

Jimin smiles. “It doesn’t bother me. Does it really bother you? He’s happy for you.”

You bite your lip. “It’s just weird. I’ll need to adjust to the fact that you two know each other at all. Oh my god. I should have known. In-game. He named his pet Tannie. God, I’m so stupid!”

After a minute of listening to the soft sounds of the radio, he looks over and asks, “Am I still winning?”

“I don’t know. Yoongi’s sounding pretty sweet right now.”

He gasps, acting surprised by your answer. “No,” he whines.

You twine his fingers in yours and bring them to your lips. “Don’t worry. I’m yours and yours only. I belong to one charming, snake of a prince. What are your secrets anyway?”

“You really want to know?”

You cock your head to one side and spare a fleeting glance at him. “Spill ‘em.”

“You have to promise not to tell.”

You smile, seeing the exit you need to take quickly approaching. “If you tell me I’ll wrap these lips around your cock when we get there. Wherever you want.”

“...That’s not a promise, Snow.”

“I guarantee you it is.”

You shiver as Jimin wraps his arms around you, sinking his chin into the crook of your shoulder. A heavy sigh reverberates against your ear as he presses his hardening length into your ass. “So?”

“So what?”

“Not too awkward right?” he confirms, holding your waist and swaying back and forth.

“Yeah, I almost forgot my cousin showed up with my bestie. Definitely don’t want to be around to hear them go at it. I really don’t need that image in my head. How far is our room from theirs?” you ask, reaching behind you to run your fingers across his pants in the place he needs you most.

He inhales deeply and purses his lips for a moment. “I don’t know. We change it up every year. First come...” He hikes your dress up and slides his hand over your thigh, teasing the sensitive bud beneath your panties. “First served.”

You groan as he licks a line from your collarbone to your ear.

“What do you think? Now that we’ve had dinner, can I have dessert?”

You shiver and turn your face to give him a quick peck.

“Mmm I don’t know. Maybe I want dessert,” you counter, licking your lips and sparing a glance down to the place your fingers are massaging.

A whine rumbles up and out of his throat as his hands roam the exterior of your dress, gliding up your sides until he’s cupping your breasts in his palms. “You make this dress look good.”

Deft fingers play with the button on the back of your neck, making quick work of the zipper concealed beneath. The fabric of your party dress falls away from your body and pools around your feet. “But it looks better on the floor.”

He doesn’t give you time to ruminate on how exposed you feel. He’s already spinning you around and pushing you towards the guest bed you’ll be sharing for the night. As you fall back against the cold comforter, he’s working the buttons off his shirt. Not fast enough. You’ve been wanting this all day. The notches on his belt are so small the buckle gets stuck; you nearly snap the metal with how quick your fingers are moving. He offers a surprised gasp as you drag his boxers down with his pants, thick cock springing free from its confines

You pump him with your hand once before taking him in your mouth. His hands, which had been fumbling with the last button on his shirt, fist in your hair as you bob up and down over his shaft. It takes all his restraint, but he tightens his grip with a moan and pulls you off him. You give him a confused pout, trying to move your mouth close enough to take him back in. He allows you to move forward just a little, your lips ghosting over the tip before he yanks your hair to force you to behave.

“You said it could be wherever I choose,” he murmurs, losing himself in the way you’re flicking your tongue out in attempts to coax him back into your mouth.

“So where do you want me, baby?” You want him so bad. You need him. And from the way he allows you to brush your lips against him again, he feels the same. You lick your lips in anticipation, causing a shiver to wrack his body as it passes over every sensitive nerve ending on the head of his throbbing cock. “Please.”

With just a word, he allows you to take the tip in your mouth, tongue gliding across every last bit you’ll give. He bites his lip hard and reluctantly shakes his head, pulling you back again. “Not yet. I want to make you sing first.”

“What am I singing?” you confusedly ask, knowing full well you’re probably tone-deaf. But you’ll do anything he requests if he’ll let you suck his dick without being a total tease.

He giggles, watching the desperation in your eyes cloud your understanding. Leaning down, he presses his lips to yours and slips his tongue between them, tasting the faint traces of himself left behind.

“Sing my name,” he pleads between open-mouthed kisses, hands sliding around to cup your jaw. “It sounds like heaven spilling from your lips.”

He pulls back long enough for your eyes to flutter open and see the love coursing through every last bit of his soul. He reaches down and splays his hands over your hips, thumbs curling around the band of your red panties before working them down your thighs in a playful wiggle. You pop open the last button on his shirt as he plunges a finger into you.

“You’ll ruin your shirt if you don’t take it off now,” you say, a not so subtle attempt to get him to remove it so there’s only skin touching skin.

He rolls his eyes, shaking the fabric from his arms. “Take your bra off for me?”

You discard the undergarment quicker than his shirt can fall to the floor, pulling his body down on top of you so you can feel that closeness you’ve grown accustomed to sharing.

“Jimin, I want you,” you whimper, running your fingers through his hair as he clamps his mouth down on your neck. That elicits a moan from him against your throat as he sucks a line of kisses down to a softened nipple.

“Yours would look good pierced,” he comments, squeezing both with his fingers before moving his hands to massage the flesh surrounding them.

“I’m good,” you laugh, watching the fascination in his eyes as your nipples pebble at the loss of the pleasurable pressure.

He hums a sound of indifference, pushing your tits together and burying his face between them. He’s sure to dip his tongue in the cleavage he’s created for his own benefit.

“Get up here. I miss you,” you whine, twining your fingers in his hair and guiding him back towards your mouth.

His mouth hungrily crashes down on yours and has you gasping for more in seconds. “Please… fuck.” He sucks your bottom lip through his teeth. “Jimin, please fuck me.”

His breath is haggard on inhale as he allows your lip to snap back to you. “But I haven’t even made you cum yet. What kind of boyfriend would I be?”

You take his hand and direct it to the slick, sticky juices coating your sex. “An amazing one. You make me wet without even trying.”

Jimin gasps, sliding two fingers past your lips and filling your pussy just to be sure you could take him. He pops his fingers out of you and brings them to his mouth, rutting the tip of his dick against your clit. Your body spasms as he rubs the entirety of his shaft against you. He grins when you lock your arms around his back and dig your fingernails into his muscles.

“You sure you don’t want me to make you cum first?” he offers again with a roll of his hips.

“I want your cock inside me now,” you whisper in a low, raspy tone, hot breath tickling his ear.

His hips stutter as he draws his pelvis back and you feel his tip teasing the heat of your entrance. When he pauses, you roll your hips beneath him, enticing him to continue his journey as the head circles your labia. Unable to exert any more self control, he sinks into you in a slow descent until he’s buried in you to the hilt. You both let out a held breath and moan against each other pitifully.

“Shit! Sorry!” Suddenly he pulls out and scrambles off of you like you’re made of lava, crossing the room and rifling through his bag. When he turns around, he's tearing the condom wrapper with his teeth, a sight you’ve grown so accustomed to seeing you should have known you were skipping a step.

“At least you remembered,” you sigh, getting into a comfortable position against the pillows. “I probably would have let you cum in me.”

“Now you tell me,” he jokes, dragging the condom down his shaft with ease.

“This isn’t the olden days, you know. Women have birth control,” you tease, spreading your legs and rubbing circles into your clit as he climbs on top of you.

“Oh so you want me to rip this condom off and fill you with my cum? Watch it drip down your leg when we join everyone at midnight?”

The thought turns you on more than it should. You increase the speed and pressure of your fingers against your clit. “Yes…” you whine.

He leans back on his knees as he slots himself between your legs, pressing his sheathed cock into you as you touch yourself for him.

“You want everyone to know you’re mine, don’t you?” he asks, thrusting himself up into you at a steady pace.

“Yes, Jimin…”

“All that sweetness. That innocence. You want everyone to see what a bad girl you really are. You want to show off for them, show them your pretty pussy. Full of my cum. Don’t you?”

You’re so fucking close. Everything he says is just getting you more worked up and you whimper, nodding like you’re a bobblehead without a brain.

“Say it, Snow,” he demands, slowing his pumps to a stop.

“Please,” you beg, desperately wiggling your hips to feel him again. “Please fuck me. I want you to show everyone how well you fill this tight pussy.”

“Oh, that’s it baby. Touch yourself for me. You getting off thinking about that?” He grunts as he resumes fucking himself into you, slinging your legs over his shoulders to hit deeper without hindering your ability to touch yourself. “I want you to tell me. Tell me who owns this fucking pussy.”

You clench around his cock, not used to hearing such filth come from his mouth.“This pussy is yours, Jimin. Use me like your little fuck toy.”

He tenses, throbbing inside you as he growls,“Tell me you’re my cumslut.”

With one hand pressing circles into your clit and the other squeezing your breast, you search his face, hoping to find yourself in it. You’re so far gone you can’t even register the lewd sounds of pleasure spewing from your mouth.

“Use your words. You can do it,” he whispers, beaming with pride.

“I’m... your cumslut,” you whisper between frenzied panting. “Fuck. Jimin. I’m close.”

He slows his pace, bending himself over you to move in for a messy kiss. “Such a good girl, my little cumslut. Squeezing my cock with that tight pussy… Want me to fuck you raw, don’t you?”

“Fuck. Yes. Fuck me raw baby. You feel so fucking good. I want you to cum inside me,” you confess loudly, not caring who might hear. “Take it off, baby. I want you to fill this pussy. Leave me dripping...”

His mouth comes crashing down on yours again, muffling the sounds of your obscene begging. “That’s too bad. Because I’m gonna fill that pretty, filthy little mouth instead.”

Your climax hits you faster than you can vocalize it. “I’m…”

You gush around the cock pistoning into you and when he feels your walls clamp down, he stays inside to subject himself to the delicious torture of every twitch and pulse you deliver.

“That’s it, princess. Good girl,” he whispers, sweetness in his voice returning.

His forehead drops against yours and he rides out your high with you, pressing his lips to yours until your hands fall limp against the mattress.

“That was…” you pause, heavy breaths mingling with his. “...amazing.”

“You still want dessert?” he questions with a grin.

“Finally. Give it to me,” you plead, kissing his lips again and again.

“Not here,” he whispers, a devilish smile gracing his features.

The water is warm and inviting. The bubbles bursting from the jets below offer pressure in all the right spots in all the right ways. How he had convinced you to enter the jacuzzi with him completely naked is beyond you. You’re terrified someone might walk in, but he assures you everyone is lost in their own world.

You lean forward, pressing your tits together as he positions his dick between them and starts with lazy thrusts. You stare up at his fucked out expression, savoring the way his jaw hangs open as he watches his cock slip between your wet breasts. A shy smile crosses your face when you realize he’s looking in your eyes rather than at the lewd act of his shaft sliding between two perfect mounds. He’s lost, a disoriented smile setting up camp in the corners of his mouth.

You look down and stick your tongue out to brush the head of his cock every time it comes up towards your face. He slots his fingers in your hair, curling strands into his fist.

“Do you want to fuck my throat?”

He nods weakly, guiding you back against the seat of the jacuzzi. You pump your fist over his cock a few times as he towers over you. Relaxing your jaw, you take him to the base, tongue wiggling against his balls. He loses his footing for a moment, slipping against the bottom of the hot tub.

“Maybe you should sit down,” you suggest, his dick coming out of your mouth with a loud pop.

“Can you hold your breath for that long?” He sounds unsure, even as he’s settling in the space across from you.

“Think of it as an edging session,” you giggle, taking a deep breath and submerging yourself in the water.

When he feels you take him into your mouth again, his jaw goes slack as he stretches out his arms across the side of the hot tub and tilts his head back.

“Hey, did you come alone?” Hobi’s voice breaks his moment of peace.

Jimin panics, hands diving into the water to keep your head beneath the surface. Hopefully the bubbles from the jets will obscure your form. He wracks his brain, trying to think of something to say as he stares blankly at Hoseok and Cat, who are now standing in the doorway with eyebrows raised.

You grip his legs and fight against his hands, shooting up from the water with the grace of someone who just got a bunch of water up their nose and nearly drowned. You cough and sputter, swiping water from your eyes as you see two figures standing in the doorway. Recognizing one as J-Hope, your heart sinks. Jimin mentioned he was running late when he didn’t show up for dinner.

This is how you meet Hope on the Street. Of course it is.

The hot chick next to him must be his girlfriend. Realizing you’re completely nude, you sink down in the water to your chin and smile as sweetly as you can.

“Hi, you must be Hoseok and Cat! Jimin’s told me so much about you.”

Hoseok sputters, laughing with his mouth wide open. You recoil at the sound, wishing the jacuzzi would melt your bones and just leave you to live your life as a puddle from now on.

Cat lightly smacks him in the shoulder. “Yeah, that’s us. We’ll hang out later, give you guys some space. Sorry!”

She shoves her boyfriend through the door, leaving you alone with Jimin.

“I want to die,” you say, clapping your hands to your cheeks. “I wish I had drowned instead.”

“It’s not that bad, really,” Jimin says, pulling you back to his body.

“Hope on the Street just cackled at the sight of me coming up for air after sucking your dick. Hell of a first impression,” you grumble, rubbing your temple.

“We can ‘walk in’ on them later if it makes you feel better,” he suggests with a laugh.

You disappear under the water, picking up where you left off. If they were going to catch you giving him a blowjob, you might as well finish it. The taste of chemicals is already on your tongue; it can’t be for nothing.

“I love you,” he says when you come out of the water for air.

“I love you too,” you murmur, shyly kissing his lips before descending again.

Every time you resurface, he’s waiting, bringing you to his lips with a sweet kiss. You can tell he’s close, but you’re having too much fun popping out of the water to kiss him. Finally, he’s had enough of the edging and has you kneeling in the center of the jacuzzi, sloppily thrusting himself deep into your mouth.

“I’m gonna cum,” he warns. “Is this okay?”

“Mmm-hmm,” you mumble a sound of affirmation against his cock, only choking slightly.

The grunt of his release comes with the bitter tang of his cum hitting the back of your throat as he bottoms out. You swallow it bit by bit, doing your best not to sputter and choke with the way he’s tightly holding the back of your head in place. He loosens his grip and pulls back, catching the tears in your eyes and concernedly swiping at them with his thumbs. You swallow what’s left in your mouth like a champ.

“You okay?” he checks in, settling into the water with you. “That was too much, wasn’t it? I’m sorry.”

You shake your head with a giggle. “I like when you’re rough. I’m just… out of practice.”

“We can work on it then,” he whispers with a grin, pulling you into an embrace.

When he brings his lips to meet yours, butterflies tickle your insides like it’s the first time. You lose yourself in his touch, in his kiss, in his everything. Being with him still feels like a dream. Never in your life could you have imagined loving someone could feel so good, so pure, so right.

“Hey it’s probably almost midnight. Do you wanna go do the countdown with everyone?”

You respond with a nod. “Champagne?”

“Of course.”

He gets out first and you watch the water roll off his body as he extends a hand to help you out of the hot tub. Pruny fingers grasp his, hoping he knows just how much he means. You’re ready to face the new year together and you’re ready to jump into this found family head first.

Heading for the door, you pause, turning back to look at him. “Aren’t you coming?”

With a laugh, he comes up behind you, draping a robe around your naked form. “You might want to put this on.”

What would you do without him? You swallow hard, donning the robe and smiling at him. He links his fingers with yours and you head inside together.

#magicshopnet #smutcentralnet #jimin smut #jimin fic #jimin x reader #jimin x you #BTS smut #jimin fanfic #jimin fluff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fluff #jimin x oc #jimin angst #bts angst #the snowball effect

[scoundrels-in-love]

Let me preface this by saying that I love Run On. It became one of my new top three favorite dramas early on and never wavered from the position. It still hasn’t. I’ve written ten thousand or more words of meta for it. And I will continue to do so.

But... I also wish I didn’t have to?

Here’s the thing: it’s awesome when show (story in general) has layers and subtlety to it, when it can be watched more casually and at the same time it runs deep when you look at it in focus softly weaving threads of narrative that shimmer and glow in more colors as you observe. When there are Easter egg details and references that make watcher feel good when they catch them, like the writer is patting their shoulder and saying “ah, you caught it. Well done.”

And Run On definitely has all of this!

Except it sometimes overdoes the subtlety.

For a show that can be praised again and again for establishing characters deeply and strongly with one scene, giving them depth and sense of being lived, saying a lot without saying much at all... Sometimes it really didn’t say much at all, creating this need for community to come together and write meta after meta to explore the nuance and depth. This was show about communication and translating ourselves to others and them to us, among other things. Intentionally or not, it’s a show that ended up needing translators to be truly felt and experienced by the viewers. And I don’t mean the subtitles. (Although those, too, were improved by community.)

I started writing meta because I loved the show and I wanted to understand the character choices that initially made me go ‘huh’ and best way to organize my thoughts is writing them out, often. I started writing meta because it was 8 episodes and people still couldn’t understand the female leads because their hurts and traumas were implied in these disconnected ways from current actions and I wanted to defend them, once I had understood fully.

For a story so impactful with the little things, a lot of the big things were shown to us through the veil. We catch guns blazing on screen as Mi Joo sobs and finds comfort in this dimmed solitude. Blink and you will miss it, although it’s the starting moment of one of most central conversation points in the show. And that’s episode 15! Same with the envelope. We never learn how Dan Ah’s mother passed or why Seun Gyeom lived separate from his family in his youth which left a formatting mark on them both, obviously. And all of it makes me spin countless imaginary scenarios and write endless meta while I will actually never know if that’s what writer intended or I am over-reaching and creating context - or wrong context - where it wasn’t given (like that).

I understand that we met these characters in middle of their lives and when we meet someone, we don’t get to relive their past along with them, especially from the get go. We can never really be privy to what they’ve lived through, as much or as little they tell us. I understand that the show clearly told us - we will never completely understand each other, because we’re not the same person, but the places where we meet can be beautiful and filled with love if we work towards it.

I do.

I also accept that I will probably never really understand by Seun Gyeom softly insists on continuing to speak formally with Mi Joo, although he dropped it with Woo Sik. Even the things I don’t understand like all the fathers being given some kind of absolution because they’re dying or just because time has passed and he hasn’t been shown putting in any effort, I can accept. Most of these make sense within the premise, the themes that the story itself established.

And still, I feel a little like a show that could be so candid and so well told, the choice to go ambiguous on things that it clearly wanted the watchers to understand and notice, for a show that was so well told to need a band of people ‘translating’ its main characters to watchers so that they could understand and connect to them better and truly fall for the story and its beauty... It leaves some kind of feeling in me. A kind of bittersweet after taste, maybe, with how I feel there is so much to dig in this story and yet it will be lost on a lot of people because the show didn’t take just one or two more steps toward its watchers. With how people are upset and believe this or that about the show’s ending and I can’t even tell if writers actually intended it to be as ambiguous as it turned out to look to some people, regarding Dan Ah and Yeong Hwa.

I actually would like to make addendum on my point about us not being privy to character’s lives - the show itself does break this rule, showing us few, rare flashbacks and I’ve never felt like drama could’ve benefited of a few more of those than with Run On. We remember what happened last episode or 40 minutes earlier in the show. We, however, do not remember what made this character the way they are - because you aren’t telling us clearly, only alluding. Through layers and layers that aren’t even always direct and true, but a diversion instead.

I just don’t think a show needs to the sort of thing that blooms and flourishes fully only in this exclusive situation where everyone is pitching together and unraveling it layer by layer. What of watchers three years down the lane that will not find all these amazing metas written as it aired? That will drop it by ep 8 because they will think Mi Joo getting upset at Seun Gyeom is unfair and no one will give a different perspective?

Maybe that’s the thing. I love it so much I wish it could be loved a bit more easily, that it had opened to all of us just one smile more so everyone could fall in love with it the way I - we - did.

#run on #jtbc run on #kdrama #rainy watches kdrama #My head Really hurts and I think I will regret this as soon as post it #but whatever #the last paragraph itself is 'if you get it you get it thing' like the whole show in some aspects and maybe it didnt have to be

[lexifleurs-versace]

The former East

As Igor Zabel writes in his book Contemporary Art Theory " the eastern artist  has , in his effort to produce modern art, remained a kind of incompletely realized  western artist, and thus a second class artist" or sometimes a slightly different situation where  the eastern artist is seen as a "representative of a different and exotic culture". The Eastern artist, in  their attempt to please the idealized West, has become either an incompletely developed Westerner or  has turned their "easterness" in an exotic fiasco. In the post-Cold War period, the Eastern artist is no  longer expected to be a universal artist, the eastern artist is expected to be a Polish, a Bulgarian, a  Russian but never "just" an artist.  

The Bulgarian contemporary artist rarely admits to have been influenced by bulgarian art and even disregards the bulgarian art. This attitude is self colonial because they are denying the importance of the cultural context that they have grown up in and are striving for these universal forms of art which in their essence are Western ideas of art. Everything on the periphery of the Western idea is seen as “the Other” and the Bulgarian artist does not want to be that Other.

In this text I am going to explore parts of that vernacular pop culture which the Bulgarian intellectual elite are trying to escape from, to be unassociated with and are trying to eliminate its presence in their identity. DRIFTING EAST    CHALGA

 Chalga is the Bulgarian version of the Balkan folk music known as Turbo-folk in Serbia, Laiko in  Greece, Manele in Romania or Tallava in Albania. Etymologically the word “chalga” means popular  entertainment music, once played in Bulgarian towns during the Bulgarian Revival under Ottoman rule  by ethnically mixed instrumental bands, the so-called “chalgii”.  The popular culture of chalga appeared during the "transition" period which rattled Bulgaria and  other post-Soviet countries. While in ex-Yugoslavia this transition period was experienced through wars, Bulgaria's war was an economic  one. A survey done by sociologist K. Kolev shows that during the transition period “65% of all people  have not bought shoes or clothes in the past two years. 54% have not traveled between settlements.  20% have not bought even soap” . Amidst this national crisis I was born in an intellectuaé Bulgarian family strongly oppossed to chalga culture invested  in "protecting high culture". According to Open Society foundation, around the time of my birth the situation in Bulgaria was that “76% of the people have lost their social status, both objectively and subjectively, which leads to social degradation… The people’s vault of values is emptied of meaning as well as is their psychological capacity of correctly responding and dealing with problems and the elite do  not need the population, which has fallen into a state of complete exclusion and inertia." . During  this turmoil chalga music is gaining traction as the "hero" of the time, an art medium  which makes the Bulgarians forget the massive political issues going on. Shops are empty, protests for  democracy are ongoing, organized crime is steadily entering politics and people are brutalized. There is an  ongoing danger in Bulgaria, especially in the 90s, in these wretched conditions and the brutalization of  people, and the relationship between “life” and “art” gives only chalga as a result. Chalga is rejected by the intellectual communities, and "high" and "counterculture", but if reflection of reality in itself is a "high" culture, then isn't chalga a paradoxical high culture in itself?        

 Throughout this period chalga was more attuned to the cultural, political, and societal woes of everyday Bulgarians than anything produced by the self-proclaimed intellectual tastemakers of the times.  Reoccuring topics in Chalga music :

Mercedes or BMW

The presence of the importance of economical status as represented by such brands as Mercedes and BMW has been an omnipresent feature of the venucalare Bulgarian, and to some  extent Balkan, culture since the 90s.After the end of the socialist era people were finally able to buy  easily "western" brands. Owning "western" objects belonging to the world of capitalism before '89 was seen  as an extreme luxury , objects to which only a priviliged few had access to and the free market shift  made the ownership of such objects socially acceptable  The western brands are the symbol of privilege   and an expression of a high class status. Chalga singers dedicated songs to car brands, and if they didn't  explicitly name them after a brand, they implied visually their social status by featuring Mercedes and  BMW in their music videos. Thus creating a visual hegemony and an aspiration for economic stability and wealth which is what these ‘luxury’ brands represent for the masses during the transition period. In contemporary pop culture in Bulgaria one can say that the definition of success  is owning a Mercedes. Usually owning a Mercedes means that the owner is someone who lives abroad - in Western Europe - and is therefore rich (  the local stereotype is that all Western Europeans are rich). It is  very common that most of the people who live up to the Bulgarian dream of owning a Mercedes are  working for less than the minimum wage in countries such as the UK, Germany or Switzerland , working  over hours and living in horrible conditions. They save money during their stay in Europe in order to  buy the shiniest and newest Mercedes or BMW so that when they come back home they can show all  their neighbours how powerful and rich they are. In its essence the Mercedes is a symbol not only of a  mindset developed during the 90s but can also be seen as a symbol of the social position of the  Eastern European diaspora in Western Europe.  

In the video clip of Nelina - Bial Mercedes / Нелина - Бял Мерцедес / ENG: White Mercedes  we see the narrator, the singer Nelina, dancing in the typical lo fi, green screen 90s aesthetics setting montage and shaky low production camera footage. " A white mercedes is following me around in life  and is constantly walking next to me, a white mercedes has taken my attention but love is not sold for  money, I have foreign currency that I can sell but I do not sell my love for money , my mom sent me to  the change bureau so that I can buy one green dollar but in the change bereau they are out of dollars ...  " . The White Mercedes in this song stands for the man whose social status ranks him to have anything he  desires. The Mercedes owner waves a one dollar bill at Nelina only to assert his dominance. As  viewers we are confronted with different images depicting the comfort of this symbol in its making (as  seen in Image 1) and we are put in front of this difficult choice that Nelina is facing. She has to make a  choice - submit to the dream of the "west" , of having money , of being Western and putting aside her  "easterness" but by doing so affirming even more her position as an Eastern European woman in the  context of male - female relationship , or rejecting the idea of having money, as post-socialist philosophy  . In this song we can see not only the inner battle of a woman struggling whether to marry a man for  money, but we see the more complex relationship of former East and former West ideologies. The  "West" represents the bourgeouis, who 50 years prior to this song were murdered or robbed in all  post-Soviet countries, through the symbol of Mercedes and rejecting the symbol of Mercedes

represents the traditional socialist thinking which is "higher" and "devoted to the nation". But in  Image 2. we see Nelina merging with the Mercedes and this can only mean that no matter what choice  she makes it is evident that the symbol of Mercedes is an inevitable part of her identity.  

In Rositsa Peycheva - Dai mi Tate Malko Parichki / Росица Пейчева - Дай ми тате малко  парички / ENG: Daddy, give me some money 1995, Image 4. , we can see a merge between Balkan  culture with the newly arrived Western culture. The five musicians playing traditional to the chalgii  music instruments are fading into a highway traversed by a BMW. But in this context the musicians are  not the ones seeking dominance through owning luxurious items. The musicians themselves are part of  this property. The highest goal for the Balkan gasterbaiter (slang word for bulgarians who work as  construction workers in Europe) is to be able to come back to their home country with an expensive car  and throw a massive party in their home village. But this parties are not what a party looks like in  Western Europe. These parties consist of inviting at least everyone in the village, decorating the village  and inviting the most expensive orchestra, usually a Roma orchestra. The musicians play only if the  audiences sticks money on their foreheads. If the money stops, the music stops. It is very common for  Balkan party- goers to spend between 50euros and 4000 euros per song. Therefore Image 2. is a  representation of the highest form of being the most successful, specifically gasterbaiter, Eastern  European.

In Image 5: Simpatiagi - Za milioni niama zakoni /Симпатяги - За милиони няма закони / ENG  : For people who have millions there are no rules 1998 we see two thugs asserting their power by  standing next to their Mercedes. Here the role of the Mercedes is a little bit different. While it still  represents dominance, it is a different branch of the Mercedes dream. This dream is designated for the  most daring - the ones who are ready to take the once in a lifetime oppurtunity of becoming a criminal.  While it is a job that hides some risks, the thugs of the 90s (as we see in the watermark of Image 5) ruled  the country and potentially are in charge up to this day. The biggest barrier to becoming a Mercedes  owning thug was the risk of getting shot or getting arrested in the case for those who were not so high  in the hierarchal structure. The image represents essential trademarks of the Bulgarian thugs - golden  chains, dark sunglasses and black clothes. And ofcourse, what is a thug without a Mercedes?  

In Image 6: Tzvetelina - Sto mercedesa /Цветелина - Сто мерцедеса / ENG: One hundred Mercedes cars, 1997 we see a young beautiful woman surrounded by a rain of Mercedes. The rain of  Mercedes could be seen as a substitute of the cliché rain of money. After all , anyone can have money,  but not everyone has enough to buy a Mercedes. Interestingly enough, the lyrics of the song are  exploring a love story and the value of the love is represented through the amount of Mercedes cars the  lady owns. " 100 Mercedes, I will drive them for 100 years and a 100 men will want to marry me". In this  song the Mercedes is no longer just a symbol of money. The Mercedes represents everything - it is the  lover, it is the lenght of a life, it is the social position. WOMEN FOR MALE PLEASURE 

In chalga music , the female singer or actress is depicted as a sexy woman whose only  concern in life is how to please the men around her. The man is strong and is either a thug or tries to be  one. The narrative demonstrates the power play position of the rich Balkan man and the quiet beautiful  woman. She is entertaining, forgiving and sensitive. He is strong, powerful and wears gold. He has as  many women as possible. The more women he has around him, the richer he appears to be.

In its essence it is a social game whose winner is the richest. This might be regarded as PTSD  from the deprivation of capitalism before '89. After '89 the people who were robbed of the experience  of "being unequal" could finally show that they are better than their peers. And what other way to prove  your superiority but with demonstrating your wealth to acquire high status. In reality, most people in  the 90s were poor but that made chalga even more attractive. It represented a sort of a dream world, a  so to say collective consciousness. This person, who listens to chalga, is not a chalga celebrity such as  Milko Kalaydzhiev or Kamelia , who are projections of his or her dreams. This person articulates through  the language of chalga imagery but they remain his or hers best self. Chalga dictates the norms and rules  of the pop culture.  

The socialist parliaments in Eastern Europe included a higher number of women than those in Western Europe before ‘89. Prior to the regime change, the average percentage of women in those parliaments was 26% compared to only 12.5% in the European Union member states. After the first free elections the level of women’s representation in parliament decreased. In Bulgaria it fell down from 21% to 8.5%.

As the iron curtain fell, mysoginist came front hiding behind the idea of free speech. We can see the root of this issue in “socialist feminism” – the woman was portrayed both as a laborer and a mother thus retaining her “women” duties in her private life, while being equal on paper to her male colleagues. Even though there was a significant number of women in politics, they had almost no power and were shadowing the male leaders in their sphere. And as the transition period of the ‘90s arrived, Western feminist ideologies were seen either as a colonial power trying to impose foreign beliefs or a type of bourgeouis feminism. Thus chalga reacted as a counterculture agent trying to establish a national identity which didn’t respond to external pressure whether that be from the West or the East.

Whether chalga is one of the roots of sexism in Bulgaria or is a reflection of the already existing sexism in the country is not clear. But in contemporary culture chalga listeners preach beliefs of gender inequality. Even though men are as objectified as women in these videos, the objectification remains in the respective gender boxes. The woman must be attractive, have big breasts, wear as little clothing as possible, be submissive even if she is portrayed as strong and independent. She is suffering for she can not live without the male character. The man must be strong, he must display his financial status through cars and gold, he is in power even when he is weak or dependent. He is suffering for the female character but usually forgets about her because he can have any girl he desires. It is a sort of power play between emotional and financial dominance.

IMMIGRATION / EUROPE

The most traumatic topic for Bulgarians today is emmigration. From a population of roughly  9million in 1989 to roughly 7 million in 2019, Bulgaria faces one of the biggest population declines that  are not caused by a war. Most Bulgarians aspire to live abroad as they know that this is the only way to  self-realisation. The immigration process has become even easier after 2007 (the year Bulgaria became  part of the European Union) as visas were no longer required to live in the EU. Chalga music, as the  trustworthy mirror it has proven to be, has taken this topic at heart and has a wide range of music  clips tackling this issue.  

In Kali - Shengen / Кали - Шенген, 2000 , we see a fictive Shengen border which is guarded by  two border police men . They are playful but at the same time are strict and do not allow the Bulgarians  to enter Shengen. Even though the song was created for parties, it has a strong political message. " Will I  manage to get in Shengen? Can I be a European member?" is part of the refrain. Alongside the video ,  the Shengen song represents one of the biggest political questions at the time. The Eastern European  who is wondering whether they are good enough for the Europeans, whether they are savage or civilised, and their worth is measured by their status in the EU. Some of the characters in the video are represented by "european looking" Bulgarians, whilst others dressed in the traditional Bulgarian clothes represent what needs to be eliminated from Bulgarian culture in order to be seen as worthy. The  characters trying to pass the border are performing different tricks for the border police and their

entry is based on the entertainment value of their performance. The Eastern European is seen as  the one who is invited only if they play by the rules and marginalized if she/he demonstrated  their culture too much. The invitation is conditional.  

In Lia - Mitnichariu/ Лия - Митничарю / ENG: Borderpolice, 2001 we see a beautiful young lady  stuck at a border point. She is begging the policemen to enter their country whilst offering them  different types of bribes. She drives an expensive car, which means that she has been working abroad  and now wants to go back home. The border police do not allow people with expensive cars to pass  the border without taking a bribe, even today. The lyrics of the song " give him 200 deutsche marks, he  is human after all and he needs money to buy cigarettes" are giving a sort of innocence to the act of  corruption. Lia is normalizing the corruption culture but she is also giving a voice to the Bulgarians who  live abroad and experience this border police reality. Rather than describing a fictional situation, Lia is  addressing an actual issue . She is not trying to take a political stance i.e. fight corruption, but rather  is trying to deal with immediate corrupted regulations .The Bulgarian doesn't want to be involved in changing the country, they know it is not possible. The Bulgarian wants to get rid of the  bureaucratic situation as fast as possible and knows the cost of it. The individual wants to give the  money required and go home to see their family as fast as possible because they have only a few days  off from work in the West. In a few days they will have to drive another 1000 km to go back to  Western Europe and continue working. The border police is just one of the many obstacles on the  journey. The Bulgarian knows that if he refuses to pay the bribe there will be greater consequences,  even if he has not done anything illegal. Mitnichariu is a song which I listen to every time I am faced  with Balkan border police, it gives assurance that I am not the only one experiencing this injustice and it  gives me hope that these thug policemen are eventually going to let me through the border.

The border is a mythical location. It is a place where anything it can happen. For the  border police it is a sort of cash machine. Refering to my own experience during the summer of 2020 I  was asked for my car insurance at the border between Montenegro and Croatia. I gave them my international insurance which explicitly covers Montenegro. The borderpolice said it is not possible to pass through unless I buy their insurance and claimed that mine was invalid. After arguing for twenty minutes, one of the border police gave me 3 choice : buy their insurance, get arrested or go back to Croatia. When I bought their insurance at the price of 15 euros and hurried to enter Montenegro, I saw  that document they gave me said One Week Insurance for Belarus. An elaborate scheme for taking  bribes through a company in another country. Technically, this insurance was worthless, unless I went to  Belarus in the upcoming days. This is just one of the many examples of the cash machine which Balkan  borders can be. In the video clip of Lia we can see an exploration of this topic through her personal  experience, which even though personal can be relatable for any Eastern Europeans who has had to  pass through the Balkans by car.  

Even though there are other visual culture references in chalga music , I have decided to focus in this text on the holy trinity of the chalga person - cars, women and Europe. heteronormativity

To end this visual analysis of chalga we must have in mind that the music in its essence is Orientalist but it is not the Saidian concept of Orientalism. Bulgaria does not have the colonial history which Europe has with Oriental culture but was rather under Ottoman rule for 500 years up until the late 19th century which makes orientalism a big part of the Balkan identity. The orientalism of chalga helps the listener to break free from the cultural elite formed during Soviet times and it can been seen as a tool to decolonize the national identity from Western culture. Rather than mocking “Eastern” values which are seen as uncivilized or backward in the eyes of Western Europe, the sultans and sheiks are transformed in a treasure vault mocking the Western ideals. They have been transformed in mafia businessmen, luxury capitalist gods, and the target of irony , even if not conscious, are the dreams connected to the Western life. 

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Bibliography:

Igor Zabel - Contemporary Art Theory

Rosemary Statelova - The Seven Sins of Chalga

Boris Groys- The Total Art of Stalinism: Avant-Garde, Aesthetic Dictatorship, and Beyond

Boryana Rossa - The Tree of Bulgarian artists

Vesa Kurkela - Balkan Popular Culture and the Ottoman Ecumene: Music, Image, and Regional Political Discourse 

Rory Archer - Assessing Turbofolk Controversies: Popular Music between the Nation and the Balkans.

 Reference links:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kv18ZnLFQBc - Bial Mercedes

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i5dJVFoXzL4  - 100 Mercedesa

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YvjzB3zQDRg - Dai mi tate malko parichki

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TVMTaIIFQgQ - Za milioni niama zakoni

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZtN1Fu_G6I - Mitnichariu

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RwzVGVjtAIs - Shengen