at least like before you take

[TRANS] LOVE YOURSELF 承: Her - Jin Thanks To

Ah, the album has come out well.

Thank you so much so our Bang Shihyuk PD-nim who looks like a deer and worked like crazy to bring us wonderful songs, I love you. Thank you so much to our poducers and staff who worked hard and wrote wonderful songs for us together with Bang PD-nim. Bighit’s mother Vice President Choi Yoojung, thank you so so much for taking care of my mental health. My soul friend, Director Yoon Seokjoon, thank you for welcoming me warmly whenever I come visit. Director Shinkyu, thank you for making my dream of having a drink with you come true. Director Chaeeun, thank you so much for your long messages full of kind words every time we have good news. Director Lee Hyuk, arigatou gozaimasu for welcoming us energetically every time we come to Japan. To our Bighit staff who are always working hard and full of energy, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thanks to our company staff - our family members - I’m living a good life like this. I’ll support for only good things to happen to our staff.

Ah, our family, fighting.
Thank you so so much to our hair & make up family. Truthfully I do look handsome in the mirror, but with styled hair and makeup I shine. Kya. Thank you so much. Jjanggu, live long ㅠㅠ

And our ARMYs
Every day I pray. Pray that only good things will happen to our ARMYs and you will always be happy. Thank you so much, for letting me live a happy life. Thank you ARMYs so much, I support and adore you guys so much, ARMYs are seriously the best.
To our ARMYs who suit every beautiful modifier. I love you ARMYs.

Heeeeeeeey it’s some SWTOR updates!

From tonight’s (9/22) Bad Feeling podcast, featuring Charles Boyd and Eric Musco:

-no plan to return to Umbara (for now) beyond the stronghold

Re Umbara:
-Lana wasn’t the traitor because it would have seemed “obvious” for her as a Sith to betray the PC
-Theron: a choice to “dive into the character more and take him in an unexpected direction” (Boyd really likes Theron as a character- coming from working on the Trooper storyline, he likes non-Force users in the Star Wars milieu)
-this was mentioned on Twitter before, but Charles Boyd reiterating re Umbara and upcoming content: “it is a story, at least in part, about trust- take that as you want to” and “have faith that the story will go in a direction they [Theron fans] will enjoy”

-roadmap coming soon with a LOT of content (why it’s taken so long)- before the NYCC Cantina event (10/6/17)  
-more story “coming real soon now” and will be picking up where Umbara left off
-next episode has “some connections” with the Imperial Agent eyyyyyyy VECTOR pls

-re Arcann romance in light of Arcann being dead in some playthroughs: “I’m not saying that’s going to stop us”

A few scraps for you to chew on, my lovelies, until next month- I think that fairly well cements some of our theories, doesn’t it?

anonymous asked:

umm... warwick, also from league of legends! how would he behave when finding someone he has special feelings for? i wonder if he'd be a cuddler...


He’s gotten updated since the last time I played! Looks like he’s more biotech than he used to be.

Honestly, as far as I could see, he’d probably be all over you before you even knew he had feelings for you. More likely than not, scooping you up and running off with you would be his way of showing you how much he cares.

He’s, uh, shall we say, extremely temperamental, and super-duper territorial. Like, tell your friends to stay at least 50 yards away at all times. It’ll take some serious work to get him to accept anyone else into “his” pack.

He’s got the metal claw thing going, and those can be COLD sometimes. Though he himself is fluffy as ever, and he absolutely LOVES to cuddle up with you. Be forewarned that any attempt at escape will result in shredded clothes as he tries to keep you from leaving.

ask-dwight-fairfield  asked:

"Hey Jake! I was wondering, j-just y'know if you aren't busy, if you could show me how you always manage to keep the crows quiet? They're getting to be a real thorn in my side, a-and it's really impressive how you seem to almost speak to them."

The question caused Jake’s gaze to narrow, watching Dwight for a moment while he thought, before glancing down to the crow that was sitting in his hands. How was he supposed to teach something that was more so a part of who he was, rather than a learned skill? It wasn’t the same as showing someone how to take apart bear traps. “I can try..?” Jake finally agreed in a sigh, doubtful he’d be able to do much, but the chance at a distraction certainly was appealing.

“But the biggest thing I think is that you gotta stay calm. On the outside, at least. It’s like how a pet can tell if you’re upset, I guess?”

It’s really interesting to me that what is arguably Lance’s greatest strength is also his biggest source of insecurity. 

Like, this boy is so adaptable. You can throw him into space, into a war, into a new lion, and he’ll essentially shrug his shoulders and slot himself into place. What makes the kid a powerhouse is that you can put him in any circumstance and he’ll find out where he fits and pretty much be able to hold his own there. He can integrate himself into basically any group dynamic (see: rebel mermaids, Hunk + Lance + BoM, and Team Voltron after Shiro). What Lance brings to the table is an ability to do what’s needed, to fill roles that need filling, and to mesh with anyone. 

But, for someone who values standing out, that would be seen as a negative trait. Lance wants to carve out his own place in the group– it’s why he’s so attached to the idea of being the “sharpshooter” (though, that does appear to be a niche of his!!). To him, it seems like everyone else around him has this “thing” that makes them special and unique– and, since he doesn’t (or, at least, he thinks other people don’t think he does) he feels sort of average and unskilled by comparison. 

The creators have said before that Lance’s character is about “providing what’s needed at the time” and like. Exactly. His “thing” is that he can essentially take on any “thing” you need him to and do it at least decently. That’s what makes him unique, and I can’t wait to see him realize it.

Does everyone else here agree that Draco Malfoy is the biggest sap of all time and probably has Mr. Draco Potter written all over his textbooks? And he surrounds them in little love hearts that he has enchanted to animate so they pulse like mini beating hearts. And he thinks nobody knows, because just the thought of him and Potter is utterly ridiculous. Who would think such a thing? But it’s so OBVIOUS. Because we’re talking every second page of EVERY textbook he owns.

And Pansy has to take him aside one day and be like, “You need to calm the fuck down on the hearts or at least cast a disillusionment charm on them before a Gryffindor sees and tells your lover boy.” And Draco, blushing like a motherfucking fire engine, gets so embarrassed that he throws all his books down the toilet (because a vanishing spell just isn’t dramatic enough for Draco My father will hear about this Malfoy). But he forgets his old friend Myrtle lives in the s bend, and isn’t so fond of being hit in the head by heavy textbooks.

So, she gets her revenge by delivering all of Draco Malfoy’s wet textbooks to the very person he never ever wanted to see them: Harry fucking Potter. At first Harry’s a little skeptical of the pile of dripping books left on his bedside table, but being the curious fool he is (and Hermione not being around to remind him the books could easily be cursed), he opens the first one to find Mr. Draco Potter written in elegant, cursive hand surrounded by a tacky (but adorable) beating heart. And the same thing in the next book. And the book after that. And every book there after.

Draco is minding his own business in Potions the next day when none other than Harry Potter sits down next to him. Which is surprising but nothing compared to what he does next. “I think you misplaced this,” he says and hands over a Potions book. Draco looks at it and horror and then up at Harry Potter’s face. Which is smiling. And not in the way that could be construed as teasing. But perhaps a genuine smile. Which is not possible.

But Draco is too embarrassed to look at Potter any more so he diverts his attention to the textbook in front of him. It’s his, alright. And looking pretty worse for wear after its trip down the s bend. His only hope is that perhaps this book isn’t as bad as the rest. Perhaps Potter didn’t even see any love hearts. Perhaps…well, Draco doesn’t really believe it but he’s desperate. He has to remind himself how bad the damage really is, so he opens the first page.

And there, underneath Draco’s neat scrawl, in the most hideous handwriting Draco Malfoy has ever seen, is Mr. Harry Malfoy.

Easy Cleansing Ritual

This ritual doesn’t require special equipment, but feel free to use some that you think are helpful. I will be adding some tips in parenthesis. I do this ritual at least once a week!

  1. The first step, of course, is cleansing the house before yourself. It’s hard to cleanse spiritually if it isn’t cleaned physically. That’s like using a face mask over a muddy face. Pick up stuff laying around, vacuum the floors, put dirty clothes in the wash (or at least in the hamper). You don’t have to scrub the floor with a toothbrush, but you’ll know when you are ready.
  2. Now here begins the fun part! Take a broom, and sweep. But don’t physically touch the ground with the broom. Visualize negative energy in whatever image you want (I use smoke) stagnant on the floor. Now as you sweep over the floor and out the door.
  3. Clap or ring a bell in the air to get out the small amount that is left and fan it outside a door or window.
  4. Now for yourself. Take a bath (in a clean tub), or a shower if you don’t have a bath tub. Add a couple drops of essential oil (a lot will irritate the skin. Cleanse your self thoroughly. Visualize the negative energy coming off your body with the soap. Wash your hair and yourself with something organic, if you can afford it. When you undo the stopper, visualize the bad energy going down the drain.
  5. Now, light some incense, open the window if it’s not uncomfortable outside, wear something loose and comfortable (or skyclad if you like), and meditate. Some people may prefer sleeping as this ritual can take a lot out of you

fireminer  asked:

When did the Arcade really become something? Was it before or after the Pinball machines became popular?

Arcades actually go back to the early 1900s in the US, where they were called Penny Arcades, and while they had slot machines and pinball, they also had things like love testers and Edison kinetiscopes where you could watch a woman take her clothes off.

People are often surprised to hear that the pinball machine didn’t have flippers until 1947 and they weren’t even at the bottom of the playfield until the early 1960s. Pinball (at least in the form it currently exists) is a lot newer than you think and is barely a decade older than the arrival of video games. The original form of pinball was basically a game of chance where a ball was dropped only to ding off metal pins at random and fall down holes with different payouts, very much like the modern game of pachinko.

Because Pinball was for gambling, there was a huge moral crusade against them in the early part of this century. On a personal note, my grandma used to tell me to stay away from “hooch, wild women, and pinball” (sorry Nani, I failed you on all three).

New York Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia declared war on pinball, and vowed to smash every single pinball machine that existed. Technically, pinball has only been legal in New York City since 1976.

What the Penny Arcades of the turn of the century actually had to offer wasn’t quite as important as who visited them, who the audience was for them: they were designed as cheap entertainment for the huge wave of American immigrants in big cities who had a little bit of money to spend. A major part of the reason movies were always a universal art form accessible to everyone (as opposed to something like ballet or theater) is that they had their origins with kinetiscope amusements consumed by immigrants in penny arcades, along with the nickelodeons that showed things like sports reels for boxing matches aimed at working class sports fans.

If I could be allowed a little digression, this is always why something like “upscale” movie theater chains like the Alamo Drafthouse make my skin crawl. Movies should be for the poor and for everyone, not for people who can shell out $14 for a bad order of hot wings, or a milkshake with wine in it. It’s a sinister sign of how wealth is massively concentrated in our new gilded age that these upscale theater chains target a shrinking percentage of the population with disposable income instead of the impoverished masses. The selling point of upscale movie theaters is that they automatically kick out anyone making noise, too, to create a “genteel” movie experience free of riff-raff, which I think is the kind of snotty crap a bad guy in a Rodney Dangerfield comedy would do. Recently, Alamo made waves for having all female showings of Wonder Woman. I have nothing against this idea (why would anyone be offended by this when you can see the movie in a thousand places?), but it comes off as phony grandstanding when done by a chain who’s sole reason for existing is delivering an experience for rich people. The living version of this image below: 

Returning to the original point, the key thing to remember about video games is this: in the beginning, they didn’t start off in the arcades, but were marketed toward bars and bowling alleys. This is why the marketing for these games in the early days was extremely adult. It kind of reminds me of how, come 2007 or so, the discussion around the Nintendo Wii was that it was a toy that could get you laid. Little by little, video games started to creep into the arcades.

The tipping point where the momentum shifted toward video games over pinball in the arcade was definitely Space Invaders in ’78, which was so wildly successful it showed that arcade video games were here to stay, and that they were a bigger moneymaker than the pinball machines were. There’s a story that Japan had a shortage of the ¥100 coin because of Space Invaders, which unfortunately is just too cool to be true, but it does go to show how it was a new cultural force that came in. 

Not to be all “read Settlers” but a lot of white leftists are going at some point, to need to wrangle with the fact that white supremacy does have a lot to offer poor whites (not just material benefits like being called before black people for a job offer, but the social benefit of having a people to which you belong, the emotional benefit of having someone to see yourself as better than and of ignoring that people with their boots on your neck look like you, the ability to leverage at least one thing when you have no other leverage) and the material reality that a lot of the standard of living in the West is the result of ongoing imperial domination and mineral/labor/resource exploitation of some countries by imperialist powers like the US, and that no socialist revolution could take place and encourage internationalism without wrangling with that/without eradicating that relationship. You can call it Third Worldist and turn your nose up at it but these are practical concerns, and you see in many organizing models around white supremacy in particular this absolute refusal to acknowledge that all white people do benefit from white supremacy, even the ones who don’t want to, even the ones harmed in other ways by capital, even the nice ones, not just rich white people. And frankly, I think the refusal to acknowledge that is racist. It doesn’t mean that building class consciousness isn’t useful, but it means acknowledging that a lot of the people all of us are advocating for still hate black and brown people and will need to be dealt with accordingly, not pitied as fools fallen to false consciousness. This whole “white supremacy doesn’t really benefit you if you’re poor” shit has got to go. I’m not saying we give people a racial politics test, line the ones who fail against a wall, and shoot them, but you can’t just ignore this.

Robert Small Headcanons

He’s hypersexual and will occasionally feel super guilty about it.


Once you guys get comfortable with each other you’ll wake up to fifteen texts from the man. All of them are pictures of Betsy.


He doesn’t like going through your front door and will ask you to leave your window unlocked.


If you take his flask he will pull out another one and look you dead in the eyes as he drinks it. The other dads did this before and got up to 10 flasks before Craig made them stop.


He will burst into tears when looking at Amanda’s baby pictures (he loves that she had a horse phase, AND that you’re using it against her).


He has set his kitchen on fire at least twice.


He absolutely adores rum cake.

Generic godtier effects

What if when you ascend to godtier and enter a new universe, over time, you physically changed. After all, a lot of gods and mythological figures don’t really look human, at least 100%.

Here are some ideas for looking like proper gods!

— — —
Space
- Have small, marble sized satellites orbiting them
- Skin like polished chrome
- Eyes like a galaxy
- Their freckles are stars, if you look close enough. They glow at night
- Hair that seems infinitely thick
- Their freckles are the constellations, the night sky literally looking like them

Time
- Each footstep sounds like a deafening, solitary tick on a clock
- When walking on grass, the grass springs up. When taking their foot off, it withers and dies before returning to normal
- Their breath creates a heat shimmer effect
- Sand trails from their hands and feet, as if they were disintegrating
- An aura of dust
- Patches of rust on their skin
- Their irises are gears or mini clocks
- Everything seem to stop as they approach

Light
- Blood is rainbow technicolor
- Their touch makes things shimmer and shine
- Their skin is naturally radiant
- While touching things, they temporarily turn to gold
- They have skin like stained glass
- They glitter gold dust as they walk

Void
- Have no body temperature
- You can’t sense their presence. You just feel. Nothing.
- Pure black eyes
- Drips black ink
- Dark mist curls around their feet/hands/eyes
- Everything they touch grows darker, but if you look closer there’s a subtle glitter to it
- They have a dark aura around them, sometimes manifesting as horrorterror-esque tendrils
- Have an aura of whispers

Heart
- Eye colors change depending on mood
- Has a visible aura
- When their heart is beating hard, everyone hears it
- Spirits are visible around them
- Multiple arms
- Have crystalline skin
- Skin like cracked glass

Mind
- Teal electricity sparks when they concentrate
- Eye contact with them is haunting, like glass shards against your soul. They see through you
- When around them your thoughts, ideas, and imagination become visible
- Multiple eyes

Hope
- Angel wings
- a halo
- Seems to have angel bodyguards follow them around
- Bleed shimmering gold ichor
- Their presence sounds like faint bells and chimes
- They often have ‘God Ray’ lighting
- Their skin looks like polished stone

Rage
- Black sclera with purple irises
- Demon horns
- Dark purple or black veins
- A halo of violet light
- Their foot steps leave flames
- Sharp teeth
- Eyes like burning coals
- They exhale smoke and embers and have a general smoke aura. Embers cover their shoulders
- Cat/snake/pentagram eyes
- Black crow/raven/bat wings
- Demonic rune tattoos
- A voice like thunder

Life
- Their hair is a bunch of leaves
- Their footsteps make flower bloom
- As they walk, flower petals trail from them
- Has skin like bark or has scales
- Can have any number of animal features like cat ears, a tail, horns, etc
- Vines wrap around their limbs
- Always seems to be healthier than you are, especially on your best days

Doom
- Has a full body tattoo of their skeleton
- Lifeless eyes
- They don’t bleed
- Plants wither, wilt, and die as they walk past
- Their voice is sharp and crisp, like the slamming of a door or the sound of a book hitting the floor
- Skin like cold iron, both in touch and texture
- Magic circle tattoos

Breath
- Small clouds form at their feet when walking on air
- When they yell, the wind howls
- Their hair almost like water, gracefully floating and moving
- Their breath is visible like mist or an exhals on a cold day
- As they walk past, they always carry a light breeze
- Their hair is made from puffy clouds
- Legs turn into gaseous mist
- They are incredibly light for the height and weight

Blood
- Blood like liquid shimmering ruby
- In the dark, their veins glow like molten lava
- Their touch feels vaguely familiar
- Their eyes are a deep red, looking at them feels like home
- They have a warm aura, growing in weight and intensity with their anger.
- Their voice always brings a vague sense of nostalgia of home, in a way you cant quite place
— — —
These are just a few of the possibilities and can help steer and direct personal traits and motifs. Of course this is never final or anything, it’s just to help spur ideas

Made partially because I shared my initial Rage list with mod Wren from @prospitsisters s and they started having ideas for others, so naaaturally I had to do stuff for others too.

They made an effects list too! Go check it out!

@gameofthronesimagine: Could you do something with Harry Hook and the reader is from Auradon and is lifelong friends with Ben and she’s Tinker Bell’s daughter??


Word Count: 5251

Also, warning. I started out thinking this would be cute and fluffy. It kind of turned a little angsty.


“…What? This is a joke, right?”

You stared at Ben, trying to mask your horror with denial.

Ben – for his part – looked sheepish. “We need to mend ties with the Isle, and compromise is the best way to do that.”

“So, if Uma asked you to release Chernabog from the Isle, you’d be totally for it?”

“No, of course not–”

You rolled your eyes. “No, of course. Just the guy that tried. To. Kill. You.”

“Things are different. Uma and Harry don’t have any power in Auradon, and it’s not like I’m totally defenceless,” Ben pointed out, nodding to his two huge bodyguards stationed at the door to his office.

You briefly glanced at them, before looking back at Ben. “Anyone else. You could have released anyone else. What about that Gil guy? He sounded harmless. Or some of her pirate groupies.”

“She wanted Harry,” Ben said simply, taking a sip of his tea. “She wouldn’t budge on that.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Great compromising there.”

Keep reading

PSA about women walking alone at night

Hey, everyone! I was walking home late last night and I just felt like I needed to say some stuff. Yes, it is inspired by true events.

Dudes, let me give you some advice on how to interact with women walking alone late at night. This advice is intended to help you make them feel comfortable and safe from…yeah, you. And also for you to avoid getting your dick kicked into your chest cavity. My females, I’m putting out some tips that I learned from my daddy (who was a cop) that have helped make me feel safer while walking home. (Obviously subject to editing if people have some reliable source they’d like to share that contradicts what I’ve said. It’s about being safe, after all).

My dudes…

If you see a woman walking alone late at night, don’t walk behind her. If you’re going the same way as her, try crossing to the other side of the street, or making it really clear you are not paying any attention to her. If she looks back at you, politely say that you are keeping your distance and wish her a good night. If she stops to let you walk by her, it’s not an insult. It’s for her safety, because she has been trained not to trust men late at night. She is protecting her six, and if you’re a decent guy, you will let her. Don’t ask a woman you see walking late at night for a cigarette, a dollar, or to use her phone. Don’t say shit to her unless it’s to tell her to have a good night and be safe. If you see a woman being harassed, loudly offer to call the police, or just go ahead and do so. Don’t offer to walk her home, because that’s a familiar line and will put her instantly on the defensive. Instead, ask her if you can call her a taxi or contact a friend. If a woman gives you a dirty look when she’s walking home at 2 AM, please don’t call her a bitch. She’s protecting herself, and if you think she has that right, then just take it with an understanding nod, instead of acting like a fucking baby. If you’re a professional driver, don’t follow beside her slowly, like you’re casing her. If she needs a cab, she will make that obvious. If you’re a bouncer, and she is leaving your protection, give her advice on the safest ways to walk. If a woman asks for your help, and you consent to giving it to her, please be respectful of boundaries and make it clear you are not helping her for any reason other than to make sure she is safe.

Women…

Firstly, I know how fucking obnoxious it is to have to tailor your entire life to the sexual urges of predators. I know you just want to say “Screw this” sometimes and go out for a walk because why should you have to stay cooped up? I also know that sometimes, you can’t help it. Sometimes your ride ditches you and you don’t have cab fare. i am not going to lecture you, because you know what you’re doing.

So maybe instead I can give you some things you maybe haven’t thought of before.

1) Take off your high heels. If that grosses you out and you don’t want to carry spare shoes, carry a pair of socks in your purse (or your bra. Come on, they make great hoists) and wear them over your bare feet. I’ve seen those little rubber shoe things too, that look like flats…those are dope.

2) Avoid dark places. Even if it means you have to walk a little out of the way. You need to be able to see everything around your for at least a hundred feet, because a man can clear 100 feet at a dead run, very quickly.

3) Always look around, constantly. Predators want an easy mark, and if you’re paying attention, you cannot be an easy mark.

4) Pass by as many ATM’s as possible and look directly at them. They have continual activity on their cameras, so if you are snatched, the police can document your movements.

5) Only carry cards. If the place you’re going only takes cash, then have a specific amount and no more than that. The idea is to minimize incentives to rob you. If a man approaches you to rob you, and you have nothing to give him, he will likely leave at once, because he is usually nervous and doesn’t want to be identified, so be prepared to empty that bag out on the road and show him you have no valuables.

6) Should you have a weapon? Only if you know how to use them and are willing to do so, otherwise they end up being taken from you and used on you. Long range weapons like pepper spray are better.

7) Don’t talk on your cellphone in the standard way. I know you think that it’s a good idea, but the fact is, it distracts you and holding it can block your line of sight. A man can grab you and smash it and no one can track you. Instead, put it on speaker, tuck it in a pocket, and give constant location updates, if you feel threatened. Or prearrange a text appointment with someone who can call authorities if you don’t reply.

8) No music. Do not be that girl, walking in the dark, with her phone on a loud song to take her mind off the scariness of it. Music draws attention to you and distracts you. It can also mask noises of a confrontation.

9) If a man walks behind you, you have two options. You can put your back to a wall and allow him to pass by you, or you can cross the street. If he follows, find a public place immediately. If this isn’t possible, the fact is, he’s a threat. If it were me, I’d look him right in the eye and make sure he can see that I’m willing to kill. Don’t ignore a threat, and ladies, walking alone at 2 am means every man is a potential threat. Run, if you feel threatened. Who the fuck cares if he isn’t “actually a bad guy” or thinks it’s weird? Just ask yourself, “What if he is a bad guy?”

10) Be willing to drop everything in your hands. If there’s something you don’t want to leave in the street, shove it in your bra or your pocket.

11) There’s a lot of debate about how to deal with an attacker if it does happen. Some say to do what you’re told, and some say to fight like hell. I can’t make that decision for you, but you have to be aware, and try and understand the attacker. Ask questions. If you think they aren’t listening…it’s up to you. Personally, a guy better not try to put his dick in my mouth, because I will bite it the fuck off and see what happens, but thats me. Don’t go with him. If he has a weapon, then he is willing to kill you. So make the choice. If you go with him, you stand a much higher risk of never coming back, because in solitude, with no threat of discovery, he can do whatever he wants. If he wants you to leave where you are, it means that place is safer, so stay in that place.

12) Do learn self defense. If a man can hit you once, he can win. Learn how not to get hit. Learn how to get out of suppression holds. Learn what to do if grabbed from behind.

13) Minimize physical risk. Take off all jewelry, Ponytails are just convenient handles. (I had a friend get grabbed from behind by her ponytail and lifted off the ground, with a knife to her throat. She couldn’t get free because he had all her hair in one hand. Hair is VERY strong. So take your hair down, because if he can only get a handful, you can usually tear free, but if he has all of it, you can’t go anywhere.) Same with loose clothing or clothes with strings. Keys are weapons, rings are weapons. High heeled shoes can kill a man.

14) The cops will not be angry with you if you call them because you feel threatened, and it turns out nothing is wrong. They just won’t. In fact, I can think of at least ten famous cases where a woman called the cops because she was being followed and it turned out the guy was like some horrible rapist or murderer they finally caught.

15) You have the right to defend yourself. Better to be alive and dealing with assault charges than dead in a gutter.

One time I flipped a jogger upside down because he came up behind me really fast while I was walking home from work at midnight. He laid on his back looking up at me like “WTF DID I DO” and I just said to him, “Hey man, I am really sorry, but you scared the shit outta me.” And helped him up. 

And you know what? He was totally cool about it. Said he completely understood and asked me what martial art that was. I told him it was Aikido and then offered to pay his cleaning or medical later if he needed it. He shook his head and goes, “No, ma’am, we’re good.” and jogged on. 

I’m not telling you that so that you kick every man you see at night in the balls. Men have to walk home at night sometimes, same as us. I’m telling you that because women have been taught they have no right to be fierce. And they absolutely do. It’s better to defend yourself first and ask questions later, to run first and feel silly later, to strip down or button up first and let loose later.

Be safe. Women, be smart. And dudes…don’t take this personally. If you agree that women should be equals, then treat them with respect.

Everything Has Changed (Part Three)

Summary: In which everything changes when you discover Bucky’s true feelings for you in a very unconventional manner.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,540

Part Two

Originally posted by numbmimz

“Y/N?” A knock at the door accompanies the voice that just spoke, bringing a smile to your face. It’s a welcome distraction from staring at the wall, which you’ve been doing for four hours straight. There’s not much to do when you’re not allowed out of your bed. “Are you awake?”

“Come in,” you call back, propping yourself up against a few pillows. It takes some effort and your body rebels against the movement, but you grit your teeth and swallow back your groans. All the aches and pain are worth it. They prove that you’re okay. That you, unlike Antoine, are still alive.

Keep reading

indy-ts4  asked:

Hi I'm indy I'm a new follower I plan on going in to computer science! Any advice ?

Hi there! Ohhh that’s so awesome, good luck! Computer science is an amazing subject to study! I was terrified at first because I haven’t had much experience in coding before going to uni, but you’re going to be just FINE trust me!  ✨

💻  first of all DON’T BE SCARED YOU CAN’T CODE - that’s why you’re going to computer science in the first place, to learn to code. Of course, there’s going to be people who are pro-coders already, but don’t get intimidated by them, find your own pace and just do your thing! They’re probably repeating the year anyway or they transferred.

💻  I know in computer science you’re mostly like ‘why do I need lectures when I need to CODE not listen about coding’, but trust me GO TO LECTURES - I attended (almost) every lecture possible during my first year and it really made a World of a difference especially if you’re a newbie to all of this! You’ll meet the professors and you’ll know what they’re expecting of you and they’ll probably tell you some funny stories as well. Plus you’ll have more familiar faces on the campus :) 

💻  DO SOME READING - there’s one lecture that I didn’t go to and that was a mistake I tell you. I didn’t go because the lecturer's voice was boring and I was literally falling asleep. But after I did some reading about the subject before the exam I realized his words were very valuable, but unfortunately if you already knew a bit about the subject, so if you have a subject that bores you - do some reading on your own and then go to the lecture. you’ll get much more information out of it! 

💻  CODE AT HOME - after you’ve practiced some skills during the classes, go home and practice them again on your own. Try doing something useful or fun with it. Like make it print out “Yolo” in a circle (I did that, no regrets lmao)

💻  INSTALL ALL THE SOFTWARE DURING YOUR FIRST WEEK - install all the things you’re going to need during the year on your first week, honestly, please do! It’ll save you time later on. As soon as the professor mentions what you should install, note it down, go home, install it. 

💻  PRACTICE EVEN REALLY SIMPLE THINGS - if you don’t understand anything just type it on youtube and you’ll find plenty of the video tutorials which ARE AMAZING. They helped me a lot with understanding some stuff I couldn’t get a grip of. And I know you’ll find some stuff that you’re like “I don’t need to practice this, this is trivial” IT’S NOT and you’ll get it wrong if you don’t code it at least once, just do it, it’ll take like 30s. 

💻  here are some links which really helped me out and I would recommend checking out beforehand: 
* c++ step by step video tutorials with Bucky (Bucky saved me before the exam)
* learn c++ in one video ( doesn’t really teach you c++ in one video, but there’s some useful stuff especially if you’re new to this) 
* sorting algorithms with hungarian folk dance (lmao these are really useful, I promise) 
* codeacademy (here’s just basic coding, but good to start with :) )
*  introduction to 3D graphics with Blender ( THE GOD OF BLENDER) 
and finally:
* incredibly realistic wolf animation 

HAVE FUN, RELAX AND GOOD LUCK!  ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ Hope this helped! 

Bring It On | 01

Park Jimin | Comedy | Fluff | Slight Angst | BIO!au | cheerleader!jimin

❝You had long since gotten over your crush on your co captain slash roommate, Jimin. Other than the occasional wandering hand that maybe wasn’t so appropriate for someone who was supposed to be supporting you while you were in the air, or congratulatory smack on the ass after practice he was uninterested. Very, very, very much uninterested.❞

 

You blink down at your lunch tray, a scathing look marring your face when you note the mushed grool on your plate is probably leftovers from yesterday. You eye the cafeteria lady warily when she plops another serving on your tray, expression deadpan—you take longer to move along in line and she thinks she’s doing you a favor by serving you seconds.

“Greta,” you grin pleasantly, inching the tray back in her direction, “you’re doing amazing. Love the enthusiasm, that apron really suits you. However, I pay eight thousand dollars in college tuition and this looks like the wet food I give my dog. Do you think instead of this I could—”

She interrupts you with a wet slap of brown mush being added onto your already growing pile.

Wonderful,” you sigh, when you note the brown spackle on your uniform top, “can I just get a kale salad instead?”

It was for the best, anyway, you chide yourself. The fact that your school served lunch that was about as edible as aluminum foil made dieting easier. The reminder of your diet, however makes you groan as you reach the condiment station, chancing a smell at the ranch dressing in the clear plastic bowl. When you deem it safe enough to consume, you begin working on the croutons—

“Would you like some salad with your dressing?” Someone snorts from behind you.

You lift a wary gaze to Park Jimin, who’s leaning against the counter, working on organizing his grilled chicken. He cocks a brow at you as though he knows you’re glaring, even without looking.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure so early in the morning?”

Jimin rolls his eyes at you, nudging you out of the way so he can dress his own salad.

“Just think of me as your fairy godmother—I get a tingling sensation whenever you start to double carb.” He snorts, snatching the bread roll off your your tray and shoving you in the direction of your regular lunch table.

“It’s wheat.” You say indignantly, snatching it back and shoving it in your mouth.

“Just because wheat bread induces a slightly lower glycemic response doesn’t mean it’s better for you.” He spouts off automatically and you debate whether or not you can smash your head in before he starts scolding, “There’s no inherently good bread, just one that’s gonna make your ass slightly fatter as opposed to one that’s processed whole wheat.”

Apparently there was no avoiding his scolding this afternoon.

“For the record my mother says I have a wonderful figure,” you inform.

Jimin blinks at you before shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth, “Tell your mom to base for you then.”

“You’re in a fine mood this morning,” you scoff, before sending a teasing smile at your co captain, “I take it the freshman pitched their new uniform idea to you?”

Jimins jaw clenches at the thought, rubbing his aching temples, “I’m all for being a whore. I love the concept, I think it’s great. But I hate the bandage skirt idea. And if we’re going to look like hookers, we should at least be Marilyn Monroe and for like presidents and shit. Not Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”

“Julia Roberts slander aside,” you glare, “I agree with you. They’re tacky and besides, regionals in three weeks—changing uniforms now would just be complicated, not to mention we have to worry about finding another base now that Hoseok’s graduating.”

“God, don’t fucking remind me, I already have a headache thinking about auditions. But also, I’m so happy you agree which is why I took the liberty of telling them to go fuck themselves.” Jimin grins cheerfully as you stab a pice of kale.

“What did I say about making decisions on my behalf?” You pin him with an annoyed look before throwing your fork down with a clank, “we’re a team Jimin, we make decisions together.”

“Yes and it’s because we’re a team that I know you hate all the things I do.” He explains.

“This is why they don’t respect me.” You say, “at least not as much as they do you.”

“They don’t respect me, they’re scared of me. It’s good for our image. Like a good cop, bad cop kind of thing.” He argues before slicing a piece of his grilled chicken on putting it on your plate, “And will you eat? You wouldn’t have to starve yourself if you made better choices. For example a vinaigrette instead of what is essentially going to be an extra three pounds on your ass.”

You blink at him rapidly before sighing, rising to your feet. “Whatever, Jimin.”

“Hey,” he calls out behind you but you’re already halfway across the cafeteria, equal parts irritable and unamused by Jimins lax behavior. You stop when a hand grips your wrist, “okay jeez I’m sorry. I’m kidding. Quit being a brat and eat your lunch. I said try to drop three pounds not starve yourself.”

“Wow, what a sincere apology,” you snort and attempt to walk away again but he’s gripping you by the waist, far too close for comfort with his front pressed against your back and plush lips at your ear.

This is new. Very new. 

Your roommate was a lot of things, touchy was not one of them. If anything, he prided himself on his personal space and was constantly shoving you out of his room, out of his bed, out of the fucking bathroom

“I’m sorry alright?” He mutters and you close your eyes because he was confusing. So confusing it hurt. “I didn’t mean it. I had one too many bowls of bitch flakes today—either that or you’re PMSi—fucking ow.”

Jimin rubs his side where you elbowed before glaring at you.

“Apology not accepted.” You sniff when he turns you in his arms and there was a time when you would have been ecstatic to be in this position but those feelings have long since fled.

He only tugs you closer with a grin when you don’t fight off his hold. Jimin raises a brow at something over your shoulder and you frown.

“Don’t look now but your baby boyfriend is on his way over,” Jimin whispers before retracting his arms.

“My baby what?” You frown and it only takes you a full second to realize who he’s talking about because before long Jeon Jungkook is crowding your space.

“Hey,” he calls, an arm winding its way around your waist before you’re rolling your eyes at Jimin’s teasing smirk. “What’s going on here?”

“Jungkook,” you greet, before extracting yourself from his hold, “What’s up?”

“I could say the same,” he mutters before nodding at Jimin, “We have a problem here?”

Jimin cringes at his cheesy line before pinning him with a bored look, “Actually we—”

“Me and Jimin were going over cheer stuff. Did you need something?” You interrupt.

“Going over cheer stuff,” Jungkook says back slowly. He stares at Jimin for a second too long before returning his gaze to you, “I just came to check on my girlfriend. I have a game today, you didn’t wish me good luck.”

You close your eyes with a wince when Jimin snorts. A warm palm on your shoulder has you opening them only to glare at the all too mirthful boy in front of you, “Let him down easy, champ.”

With a wave and wink in Jungkook’s direction, Jimin is bounding back towards the lunch table and leaving you with a migraine.

Jungkook is holding your hand and swinging it. You’re not quite sure when that happened.

“Look, Jungkook,” you begin, clearing your throat.

“Oh no.” He sighs.

“What?”

“Nothing is ever good when a girl starts out with ‘look, Jungkook'—my mom, my sister, the dean of students.” He shrugs.

“So you know what’s coming next then?” You ask hopefully.

“Are you gonna put me on academic probation?” He offers and when you shake your head he stares on, “Not gonna lie, I’m drawing a blank here. I just know whatever you’re saying is not gonna be good.”

All hope dies.

“We’re not dating.” You say gently, tugging your hand out of his. It was too big and overly warm.

Jungkook frowns, confusion wrinkling his brow and for a second you almost feel bad for him, that is until he opens his mouth.

“But you let me…” He chances a look over his shoulder before leaning into whisper harshly, “you let me finger you.”

And therein lies your problem.

You knew better—you truly did—than to let the otherwise inexperienced freshman go further than second base but in your defense you were drunk. You were drunk and he was willing and he was fucking Jeon Jungkook. You were a good person but not that good.

“Yes, Jungkook I did but that doesn’t mean I want to date you.” You explain gently.

“But why would you let me touch you if you didn’t want to date me?” He implores and you blink at him because there was no way in hell someone was this naive.

“Because I was horny and you were there.” You say honestly and to your relief there isn’t a look of pain etched on his features only mild confusion mixed in with annoyance. “Now that we’ve got that settled I have a cheer thing I have to—”

“Wait, wait!” He calls out, gripping your wrist, “but what about me?”

You sigh because no matter how innocent or inexperienced Jeon Jungkook seemed he was still a guy at the end of the day, and they all wanted one thing.

“Fine.” You rolls your eyes, “I’ll suck you off after practice but I got to get goin—”

“No. Not that,” he flushes, “I meant what about… what if I wanted to date you?”

You stare at Jungkook a beat and it’s your turn to be surprised because of all the things you expected to happen today that was the last.

“Do you…” You gulp, eyeing him warily, “have feelings for me?”

“No.” He says honestly and you deflate before glaring at him.

“Oh thank God,” you breathe before smacking his arm, “don’t go around saying shit like that. Jesus. Anyway, why would you want to go on a date with me if you don’t like me either? Does that make sense to you?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at you before tugging you off to an empty corner of the cafeteria, he lowers his voice even though no ones close enough to hear. “Okay don’t look right away but do you see those guys sitting at that table next to the doo—I said don’t look!”

“Ow!” You whine, rubbing at your scalp after he gives your ponytail a hard yank. “Okay, jeez what about them?”

“They’re on my basketball team.” He informs unhelpfully and you give him a bored look.

“You don’t say?” You gasp, a hand shooting up to cover your mouth, “I couldn’t tell from their uniforms and the guy on the table, spinning the basketball, staring at us.”

Jungkook goes quiet again and you feel a headache coming on because what he made up for in looks and general athleticism he lacked in brain cells.

“Are you being sarcastic?” He frowns and what was the point if all your jabs went right over his head?

Instead, you opt for exasperation, pressing a hand to your aching temple. “What about your basketball team, Jungkook?”

“They think I’m a virgin.”

“Well are you a virgin?” You retort, thinking back to the almost painfully awful finger fuck he gifted you with last weekend.

“That’s besides the point,” he waves you off before gripping your shoulders, “I’m in college now. And a guy. Being a virgin is weird and if they find out I haven’t gone all the way I’m toast.”

“So tell them you boned me and let me get on with my life. I give you my permission, young padawan.” You give him a reassuring smack on the arm before walking away, only to be tugged back by your uniform shirt. “What now?”

“That would be great, except they’ll keep hounding me to have more sex which I’m not opposed to I just… I’m not ready yet you know?”

You blink at him, “I don’t know. I’m a slut.”

“Well pretend you get it and date me. Just for a couple weeks.” He says, “If I have a girlfriend they’ll just assume I’m getting laid on the regular and leave me alone.”

“Okay, but what about me? I actually enjoy getting laid on the regular and no offense but getting fingered by you is about as enjoyable as going to the gynecologist.” You sigh and he winces.

“Noted.” He adds dryly before cocking a brow at you, “So are you up for it?”

No!” you throw your hands up, “besides dating you could give people the wrong impression. That I’m into things like—”

“Monogamy?”

Virgins.” You correct with a roll of your eyes. “Sorry Kook, you’re just gonna have to figure shit out on yo—”

“Noona please,” he pleads desperately, hand gripping your upper arm and in all honesty you’re not a hard person to sway but Jungkook is still persistent in his pursuit. He clasps both hands under his chin before dropping to his knees desperately. He’s whining and loudly.

Loud enough to garner attention.

“Will you get up?” You hiss, “People are staring!”

“Will you say yes?” He juts his lower lip out.

“No.” You glare, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Then I’m not getting up.” He pouts.

“Because I care,” you snort, “Camp out here if you want. My answers the st—”

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease,” he whines and you grit your teeth in annoyance, “I’ll owe you big.”

“You’ll owe me?” You cock a brow.

“Yes,” he says desperately, “I’ll do anything.”

Anything?” You ponder and Jungkook’s stomach turns when you openly give him the once over.

“I… shit… yeah, anything.” He sighs.


Jimin doesn’t ask you what’s wrong and you don’t expect him to—you only bang things louder until he’s sighing from his spot on his bed, pausing the game he’s playing to turn to look at you.

“Is something wrong?”

He looks put out, annoyed. You don’t care.

Everything’s wrong.” You mutter, stripping off your uniform and throwing it in the dirty clothes.

You have half a mind to remember that you were still in Jimin’s room but it didn’t matter anyway, you and Jimin had long since passed the initial crush stage of your friendship slash roommate agreement—well at least you had, you were almost entirely positive Jimin felt nothing save for mild irritation for you on a good day. That coupled with the fact that he was very much gay set your worries at ease.

“Be more specific?” He sighs, disinterested.

You pause in rummaging through his clothes long enough to narrow your eyes at him, “I hate boys.”

“Good. More for me.” He retorts instantly, shooting you a warning glare when you pause on one of his good t shirts, “I’m wearing that tomorrow, the sweatshirt you’re looking for is in the back.”

You don’t even shoot him a so much as a thank you as you shimmy out of your sports bra, with your back turned to him and tug his hoodie over head. When you’re settled and warm you shoot a mischievous smile at Jimin who’s still glaring at you before—

“Don’t you—” he cut himself off with a curse when you dive under his covers anyway. Jimin seethes quietly as you nestle yourself beneath his sheets, “You know you have your own room right?”

“Don’t you miss me?” You whine before snuggling closer, much to his annoyance, he opts to pinch your side instead of shoving you off the bed completely. 

“No. Now move over if you want to stay in here.” he scoffs.

“You know I had a really shitty day,” you glare at his side profile and he doesn’t answer, only picks up the controller to un pause whatever he was playing. “it would be nice if you could be even a little bit supportive.”

“I didn’t sign up for emotional support I signed up for half on utilities and you not leaving your pad wrappers on the bathroom floor.” He mutters, still invested in his tv show.

“Jimin.”

“Don’t use that voice, I hate it.” He grunts.

“What voice?” You pout.

“You know, the voice.” He sighs, sending you a glance from the corner of his eye, “The one you use on guys to get what you want. Your baby voice, it’s annoying.”

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment and you feign indifference because Jimin never means to be hurtful, he’s only talking to you like he would any other friend… but you didn’t want to be any other friend? You weren’t sure anymore, about how you felt about him. Things were blurred because while you were sure things bordered on platonic and that mostly had to do with the fact that he was so immune to your feminine wiles (snort), you also knew you didn’t want to be treated like one of the guys or like any other fucking girl on the team, that he mostly couldn’t stand.

You wanted to be special. Special in what way, you weren’t entirely sure.

“You’re a dick.” You retort and he tears his gaze away from the screen long enough to cock a brow at you.

“You knew this upon signing the lease.” He snorts and you don’t reply because really, what was there to say. It was well known, Jimin was in fact an asshole—he didn’t like kick puppies or make orphans cry (intentionally) or anything but he was curt and to the point and you didn’t get your feelings hurt easily which is why things worked between the two of you. “Hey, did you get that playlist I sent you?”

You pause in scrolling through your phone to turn to him, “Yeah actually I did. They’re all kind of slow, did you want to use them for routine?”

Jimins hands slow on the controller but he doesn’t divert his attention this time, only hums his disagreement, “Nah, just new songs I stumbled upon I thought you’d dig. They’re good right?”

“Yeah,” you nod eagerly, “I added them to my library actually.”

“Cool.” Jimin grumbles, clearly done with the conversation and you roll your eyes.

You go on like that for a few moments because Jimins content with silence, prefers it actually over what he calls your ‘incessant chattering’ it’s one of many things he finds annoying about you—from what you can tell. He’s left almost every group chat you’re in.

You talk too much,” he says desperately after one night, a long night of drinking with your team and you’re still sending pictures. He’s in your room and his hairs disheveled and he’s shirtless and he looks delectable and annoyed and seconds away from strangling you.

“Sorry.” You squeak, tugging the blankets up past your chin and he narrows his eyes at you. You can barely make him out in your doorway, but the light from the hallway dances against the planes of chest, making you gulp.

“No you’re not,” he grumbles, throat raspy from liquor and sleep, he sticks a hand out expectantly, “hand it over.”

“W-what?” You push hair back from your face nervously and Jimin adjusts his basketball shorts before sauntering over to your bed.

“Your phone. I’m confiscating it. You’re fucking with my sleep schedule and I have a nine am tomorrow,” Jimin mutters, snatching your iPhone from you. He sends you a menacing glare all while fiddling with the device, “You don’t get to bitch if I drop you on your ass during practice. Now move in.”

“Huh?” Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline at that and Jimin is sending you a bland look, a hand pressed to his aching temple like talking to you is causing him physical pain. But he doesn’t respond only yanks the blanket from under you, making you all too aware of your lack of clothing when the bed dips beneath his weight.

“Move. In.” He enunciates, “I’m drunk as hell, tired as hell, and not up for the walk to my room.”

“It’s across the hall.” You remind him and in the darkness of your bedroom, with the pale moonlight dancing in and reflecting off the single chain Jimin always wears you’re overwhelmed by him. By his scent, his body, his withering stare when he presses a finger to your forehead.

“Sleep now.” He grumbles.

And maybe that was when it truly started, when the both of you settled down after that long night of drinking, him telling you to sleep on your stomach so you don’t choke on your own vomit, and you staring on dumbly, the beginnings of an on again off again infatuation for your roommate, your friend, that never really went away—no matter how unwilling a participant you were.

There’s a brief period of time (that you’ve made a conscious effort to block out) that you openly pined for him. There was no stumbling into the kitchen a mess, with morning breath that threatened to singe his eyebrows off if you struck up a conversation. No. If Jimin had class at nine am, you were up, with your lashes curled and your favorite tinted BB cream by seven forty five—you looked fresh faced, what a boy who hadn’t spent nearly five plus years of his life around girls with bedazzled vaginas would consider natural. But alas—

Jimin is a hairsbreadth from your face and you thank every god you could think of you woke up at the ass crack of dawn to wash your hair. His eyes narrow and he worries his lower lip before pulling back.

“You didn’t blend your neck,” he comments before grabbing his hoodie next to you and bidding you adieu.

For the first month of your crush you spend every morning in the kitchen (after of course closely inspecting your makeup under several different lightings), making him breakfast, green smoothies even. But Jimin is a health nut, on top of being an obsessive perfectionist. He preps his food the night before, likes all of his ducks in a row when he starts his morning at eight fifteen on the dot. His expression the first time you offer him turkey bacon and eggs is a cocktail of mild disgust and disinterest. 

“I’m counting macros this week.” He explains, before transferring his smoothie from the blender into a thermos. 

You tongue at your cheek before taking a bite of the ridiculously chewy meat. 

Your first Valentine’s Day with Jimin is always a memorable one, for sheer comedic relief if nothing else.

The two of you are regularly inseparable at practice, and some of it had to do with you being a fly and him base, your base, but a lot of it was because he didn’t… mesh well with others. He was too blunt, too rough around the edges and he took cheer seriously. The times Jimin spoke about himself were far and in-between, but you distantly remember him telling you that before he started doing cheer he did gymnastics competitively for a good chunk of his life. That explained a lot of things, honestly. Why he was so by the book, strict about everything from uniforms to ponytails, to diets—of all the boys on the squad, he was maybe the only one who gave a shit about stuff like that. It was because of all of that that he made a good co captain, and if it weren’t for his inability to compromise and just generally stomach other peoples presence, you were positive he would have beat you out for the captain position.

It also explained why he was so strong. The guy regularly worked out, yeah but he was like, open the pickle jar strong. And then there was his food intake which was crazy, all things considered, because he ate a lot to build muscle but it was all so healthy you couldn’t imagine anyone enjoying it. You wouldn’t lie, the first time Jimin lifted you during auditions your heart nearly beat out of your chest because he did it all with one arm and caught you effortlessly against his chest.

“Here,” Jimin says, handing you a tumbler filled with purple liquid at the end of practice, he hitches his gym bag up higher on his shoulder and waits for you to accept it. “I brought you a smoothie from home.”

“Thanks, what is it?” You ask, sniffing it and ignoring the glare Jimin shoots your way. It doesn’t smell offensive and you take a hesitant sip, “Actually this is good.”

He nods with a sheepish shrug and you try to tamp down the zoo of butterflies in your chest that are telling you that this is a sign, that Park Jimin making you a smoothie is his weird, male, health nut equivalent of chocolates and a confession. Your heart seems to gain wings at the prospect and then he ruins it like he always does because he’s Jimin and he ruins things. That’s his job title and occupation, Park Jimin, The Ruiner.

“It’s a detox smoothie actually,” he says when you’re already on your second mouthful, cheeks puffed with the berry concoction. Jimin was a lot of things, tactless was one of them, “I thought it would help with… you know. Plus, I do strength training in my free time but this partnership only works if you keep up your end. You should come to the gym with me in the mornings, you’re up anyway with like a full face of makeu—”

You shove the tumbler back at his chest before sucking your teeth at him, “I’m gonna go shower and then head home. See you there.”

Jimin frowns at your retreating figure by glancing down at the smoothie, he takes a sip for curiosity’s sake. “What’s her problem?”

The first time you see Jimin kissing a boy there’s no tell tale signs of arousal that all of mainstream media swore by. Only pure unadulterated jealousy tinged with sadness. You watch the way Jimin cups the boys jaw, the way his own jaw works in time with his lips. It’s not rushed or heated, filled with passion like a lover—it’s slow and a little timid, like the first kiss at the end of a date and your stomach turns.

You watch the two boys pull away, Jimin looking the softest you’ve ever seen. You wondered what it felt like to be the recipient of that gaze, but it wasn’t a side of him you were meant to see, or a moment meant for you, and you reminded yourself that you were intruding. You leave the hallway too quickly that day and maybe sulk for longer than was necessary in the weeks to follow, cry even, because your nineteen year old self is (gag) heartbroken. It won’t be another month of stilted conversation and failed attempts at avoidance until you’ve pushed the feeling to the back of your brain and manage to find a middle ground in your relationship with him.

“If you return my shirt with boob sweat I’m gonna use it to smother you in your sleep.” Jimin reminds and you scoff. “That’s my good shirt.”

“That was one time.” You shoot up indignantly and immediately regret it because with regionals nearing you were doing conditioning instead of regular routines and every muscle in your body was on fire from today’s practice.

Jimin sighs before getting to his knees and giving you a hard look, “Did you—”

“Before you ask whatever you’re gonna ask I came straight here after practice, showered and went to class I haven’t had time to do anything else.” You interrupt and Jimin rolls his eyes at you.

“Lay back,” he orders and you oblige immediately because as strict as Jimin was as far as diet and exercise was concerned, he considered you an extension of himself. His partner. And if you weren’t in good shape you were holding him back which is why he ignores your yells of protest when he pushes back on the leg you have pressed to his chest.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You say, slapping his arm so he would let up, “That’s enough.”

“Shut up.” He says mildly, pushing until your knee was nestled between both your chests. He slaps the back of your calf and you glare, “Straighten this.”

“Fuck off.” You grit out.

He cocks a brow at you and you regret your words when he adds more pressure.

“Jimin, fuuuuck,” you whine earnestly, a hand pressed to his chest because the pain was getting to be too much and he didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon. He doesn’t recline right away, and you peek an eye open in time to see a look cross his face before he guides your leg back slowly with a nod.

“How’s your knee doing?” He murmurs, and you lean your head back against the pillow when he begins feeling up your leg.

As much as you hated to admit it, Jimin’s extensive athletic career as well as his major proved to be useful on more than one occasion in your house. As an athlete you could appreciate a roommate who was studying physical therapy, especially when it came to the massage aspect.

“It’s been fine these last few weeks,” you shrug, “hasn’t been giving me any problems.”

“Start wearing your knee brace again.” He says when he places one hand on your knee and the other on your ankle. You narrow your eyes when he moves it side to side, “Your knees been giving out at practice. I’ll kick your ass if you dislocate it before regionals.”

“Noted.” You scoff, but it’s more of a gasp when Jimin’s hands are on your hips, barely under his hoodie and skimming the skin just above your spandex. His face is passive all the while, nudging you up the bed.

“Move up, I’m gonna check your range of motion.” He explains and Jimin is all work and no fun. Sometimes you wonder how he can remain so disinterested, clinical at times like this when you feel like your whole body is on fire under his touch.

Your leg is back up in the air and Jimin is moving it in hesitant circles, up and down, side to side and you close your eyes, trying not to gasp everytime he presses your legs closed and tiny shockwaves of pleasure shoot straight to your clit. He never presses down long enough to evoke a reaction but you lay back and relax, enjoying what little intimacy you’re allowed with him.

Everything is good, it’s nice, relaxing, his touch is enough to leave you horny, you’ll probably have to rub one out in your room later but not enough to have you cumming right then and there. Your eyes shoot open when you feel him move in, his hand no longer resting on your leg but on the innermost of your thigh, too high up as he presses down.

Too, too high up. Too, too close to the apex of your thighs.

You cock a brow and in typical Jimin fashion he stares on blandly, cool as a cucumber sitting between your legs and forcing them open.

“Buy me a drink first?” You say a little breathlessly, and joking is your way of coping with this, him, your ego, which was sorely bruised because Park Jimin was more than immune to you and that sucked royally.

“Get your head out of the gutter.” He says, but he does it with a small smile, “If you did this on your own I wouldn’t have to do it for you.”

“It’s not as fun on my own.” You comment.

“It never is.” He teases back and it’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to flirting with him. You simultaneously revel in it and chide yourself for still being so head over hills for someone who sees you as no more than an object in his everyday life, like a lamp or the refrigerator. You’d notice if it were gone but you could always get a new refrigerator.

“Okay, I think I’m good for the night! Thanks I’ll just go back to my room an—”

A crack sounds in the room, echoing off his walls, so loud it nearly drowns out the strangled noise you make in your throat. You blink up at Jimin, equal parts shocked and turned on when he rubs the sensitive skin of your thigh, the innermost part he just slapped. Welts form under his soft palm but he doesn’t look the tiniest bit sorry, in fact, he doesn’t look anything. His expression is just as calm as collected as it was when you had first walked in. It leaves you confused, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Did you just…” You gesture between your thighs and Jimin patiently waits for you to continue as he closes your legs back up, letting you know you’re done with at home PT. “Did you just spank me?”

“Take better care of yourself and I won’t have to.” He says softly and you’re searching, searching for something, anything in his face that’ll give you even the slightest idea of what the fuck just happened. But you come up empty, even as he presses on, “Stop skipping lunch to talk to that freshman. Make healthier choices so you don’t have to do extreme diets and stop,” He grips your knee softly before staring up at you, “neglecting your health.”

You nod mutely, when he finishes because there’s nothing else to really say. Jimins been acting weird, very weird these past few days and while every fiber of your being, every natural instinct is telling you ‘he likes you! you love him, offer to suck his dick!’ the rational part of your brain quashes any hope and reminds you how well trying to pursue feelings for your roommate turned out the last time.

“I’m going to bed.” You say dumbly, blinking at him and Jimin nods, not moving to say goodbye or watch you walk out.

You press your back against his door when you leave because Park Jimin would be the death of you, but oh what a way to go.


“Look, I’m sorry okay?” Hoseok sighs, trailing after you as you re-shelf the books you were scanning. Stupid midterm paper. Stupid college.

“Hm, I’m sorry I don’t know what you’re sorry for, unless of course you’re apologizing for interrupting my studying then, I forgive you Hoseok because that’s just the kind of loving, nurturing, sweet captain I am.” You return, back still to the older boy when he rolls his eyes at you, “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“I’m quitting the squad.” Hoseok says with a finality that makes you snort.

“‘Kay. Don’t be late to practice today or I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass you won’t be able to walk much less cheer.” You say sweetly.

“I admit, it’s a bit troublesome,” Hoseok sighs.

You whirl around on him at that, eyes narrowed, “Getting your pubes caught in the sticky part of your pad is a bit troublesome—you quitting the fucking team three weeks before a competition is a lot of fucking troublesome you asshole.”

“First of all ew,” He whines something that sounds dangerously close to your name and you don’t have to turn to know he’s pouting, “Second, you know there’s more to life than cheer! I’m graduating soon and I need to focus on my studies, and start looking into a career.”

“Listen here you little bitch,” you hiss, shoving a finger in his face until Hoseok was going cross eyed, “I can smell the entire bag of marijuana you smoked on your way here. Who put you up to this? Namjoon? I’ll kick your ass, I’ll kick his ass and then whichever one of your dumb friends helped coerce you into ‘lightening your load’ before you graduate. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to.”

“But I want to party,” he pouts and nearly eats his words when your eye twitches, “God, you and Jimin are really a match made in heaven, huh? How are two people that are so tiny, so terrifying?”

“Hoseok, you can’t quit we have regionals and the freshman are giving me a fucking ulcer. Where am I going to find and be able to train a base in three weeks?” You implore, pressing a hand to your aching temple.

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok says and he doesn’t look the least bit sorry. You debate on shoving you foot up his ass for old times sake when he pats you on the shoulder, “You’re a good cheerleader. An even better captain, I know you’ll figure it out.”

“Fuck off,” you glare, shoving a finger in his chest, “if anything weird happens to you this week, just know it’s me cursing you.”

You stand there, with your back pressed against the bookshelf for a good minute, just watching Hoseok’s retreating figure. His shoulders are sagged in relief, like he was just let from under a tremendous weight, one he turned around and perched atop your shoulders.

When you get back to your library table you’re pouting, on the verge of losing your shit in the otherwise dead silent room because why, why did bad things happen to good people? As though you weren’t already stressed from midterms, it was like you had a giant fucking sign on your forehead that said ‘hey, screw me over!’

“What is it now?” Someone hums across from you and you barely have time to register that it’s Nayeon before you’re jutting your lower lip.

And for what it’s worth, Nayeon is a good friend because she stops studying, sets her books and binders and pens aside to focus all of her attention on you. Then she listens, and listens, and listens because it’s only been three days since you’ve seen each other but it seems as though a lot has happened. By the time you’re done debriefing her, she’s staring at you, a frown marring her pretty face and her arms crossed over her chest because—

“You’re a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?” she sighs, carding hands through her hair, “Let me just… let me just see if I follow here, Jungkook the freshman, the virgin you let finger you at the party last week, he wants you to deflower him?”

“No, he doesn’t even want sex—can you believe…! He wants me to date him, so worst.” You correct, “Fake date him to get his teammates off his back because he’s fucking twelve apparently and not immune to peer pressure.”

“And your roommate, Jimin, your gay roommate,” she emphasizes the gay part and you glare at her, “you think you’re starting to… feel things for him again?”

“I mean, technically,” you put a hand out to stop her, “the feelings never really went away, but they’ve just been lying dormant like waiting for him or myself to entertain them and Nayeon, the other day, in the cafeteria he hugged me. He back hugged me. Jimin, the same person who made a six year old cry last year, and then kicked his dad’s ass. I want to die.”

“And Hoseok,” she presses a hand to her head, “the drug dealing cheerleader. He quit.”

“He’s not a drug dealer, he just smokes a lot of weed,” you roll your eyes, “his friend, Namjoon, he’s a drug dealer. I’m gonna kick his ass because he convinced Hoseok to quit the fucking team.”

“And… you have regionals in less than a month, correct?”

“Yes. So you see my problem right?” You whine.

“You have multiple problems, most of which I can’t help you with, being in love with your gay roommate ranks at the top of that list,” she sends you a sarcastic look before snapping her fingers at you, “but the Hoseok thing. I know how you can fix that. It’ll be like killing two birds with one stone.”


“This is so… lame.” Jungkook groans and you slap him upside the head before gesturing towards the rest of the squad.

“Team, I’d like you to meet our new base.” You smile tightly before patting a hand on his shoulder, and pulling something from behind your back, “This is Jungkook.”

“What’s that for?” Momo, a second year on the team frowns and you brighten at her question, bringing the glass jar to everyone’s attention.

“This,” you begin, “is negative reinforcement. Anytime he says something rude, stupid, or offensive feel free to let me know and I’ll charge him, all proceeds go towards new uniforms for the team.”

“What happened to Hoseok?”

“Hoseok decided to focus on his studies.” You say and you barely make it through the sentence before someone’s cutting you off with a snort. “Jungkook’s going to be replacing him.”

“That’s such bullshit!” Mina scoffs, “Has he ever even cheered before?”

“No but I have more than two brain cells I’m sure I can figure it out.” Jungkook retorts and you press a hand to your aching temple, resisting the urge to argue his declaration of having even more than one struggling fucking brain cell. 

“Five dollars.” You seethe and Jungkook only challenges your stare for a moment before he’s reaching in his back pocket for his wallet, shoving a bill in. You cock a brow at him. He curses you before putting in another dollar.

“What’s going on over here?”

It’s a natural response, almost second nature by now, the goosebumps, the heat in the pit of your belly, the chill at the base of your spine. You should be a little more put out over the response Jimin evokes, even after all this time but you couldn’t force yourself to care. Instead you sigh.

“Jimin, this is Jungkook. You two have met before. He’s going to be filling in for Hoseok from here on out.” You explain and brace yourself because Jimin is a lot of things. Complacent isn’t one of them. He doesn’t settle for anything short of perfect and one look at Jungkook has him straightening his shoulders and eyeing you like he’s about to throw you out a window.

“Who says?” Jimin challenges and it’s your turn to cock a brow at him, hands planted firmly on your hips.

“Me, the captain.” You shoot back.

“Did he even audition?” Jimin retorts and you roll your eyes at him.

“Audition for what? It isn’t exactly like we have troves of fucking college kids lined up to fill the spot.” You argue.

“You’re cut.” Jimin says, ignoring you and sneering down his nose at Jungkook.

And Jungkook, for all his complaints and the bitch fit he put up the entire way you had dragged him to the field, didn’t take well to being told what to do. Especially by assholes. Correction, especially by assholes in a matching fucking tracksuit.

“Weird. My girlfriend, the captain,” cue audible gasp from over dramatic cheerleaders, “says otherwise.”

You press a hand to your forehead with a visible shudder because where did this guy find his material? So corny.

“Your girlfriend?” Jimin laughs, and turns his head to peer over at the bleachers before raising a brow at you. You squirm under his intense scrutiny, “So you’re dating the kid?”

“I mean… we’re not not dating.” You mutter and yelp when Jungkook pinches your side.

“What does that even mean?” Jimin implores.

“Like, we’re not like boyfriend and girlfriend it’s just like sometimes he waits for me outside my class and we go to see the newest movies and stuff together and maybe he’ll buy me like lunch on the way and like I don’t know kiss me or hold my hand but not like in a boyfriend way, he’s not my boyfriend.” You rush out and when you glance back up the two boys are staring at you incredulously.

“What exactly is your definition of boyfriend—anal? That sounds like maybe the only thing you haven’t done with him.” Jimin rolls his eyes at you when you slap his chest. He could at least act like it hurt.

“So anyway, let’s start practice!” You clear your throat, pushing past both of them and towards the middle of the field, “Pair up and get started on your stretches!”

Jimin and Jungkook glare at each other even after everyone begins stretching, speeding up your already impending headache.

“I don’t like you.” Jimin comments mildly.

Jungkook snorts at that.

“I’m quivering. Your tracksuit really evokes a sense of fear in a guy.” He rolls his eyes before sneering, “You look like Vector from Despicable Me.”

“Okay, that’s enough. I’ve had it with you two and your dick measuring contest.” You hiss, getting in between either of them and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Bet I’d win.” Jungkook sniffs, “Everytime.”

“Yeah?” Jimin tongues at the inside of his cheek, the way he sizes Jungkook up makes the younger boy squirm, “Wanna find out after this?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to argue before closing it again—he does this a few more times before squinting his eyes and cocking his head to the side at the older boy. “That got really gay, really fast.”

Jungkook turns to look at you, pointing a finger at Jimin before, “Is he—”

“Jar, Jungkook.” You exasperate.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t have to.” You hiss.

“Fine, homoerotic, is that the politically correct term?” He sighs and you clench your hands at your sides in an attempt to not strangle him.

Not in front of witness.

“Stop talking.” You put a finger up to silence him and then turn your attention to Jimin, “Let’s start practice, yeah? We can be mature about this?”

“Matures my middle name.” Jimin seethes.


As it is, mature is not Jimin’s fucking middle name, it wasn’t even his stripper name because between the jabs he had been making at Jungkook’s inability to pick up on the workouts as quickly, or the way he would send the younger boy a pointed look whenever he wasn’t as flexible as the other guys on the team you were about five minutes from strangling him.

“Why can’t I be her partner?” Jungkook argues at one point when Jimin immediately grabs your arm for stretches.

“Because you’ll fuck around and throw her back out and then I’ll kill you.” Jimin says politely before yanking you closer to him. His movement is only slightly halted when Jungkook reaches out to grab your other arm and your glancing between the two of them wildly.

“It’s not fucking rocket science I’m sure she can tell me what to do.” Jungkook scoffs, tugging on your arm.

“I’ve been her partner for three fucking years, if you want to look up someone’s skirt do it on your free time or pair up with one of the other freshman on the team, you’re wasting my time.” Jimin grits out.

“Why can’t you pair up with one of the freshman on the team, if you’re so experienced doesn’t it make sense if noona helps me instead of you? I also need some experienced help.” Jungkook enunciates.

“Fine.” Jimin says, letting go of your arm and making you stumble, he cocks a brow at Jungkook, jaw clenched, “get on your back and spread your legs I’m your new partner.”

You and Jungkook stare at each other for a beat before turning to openly gawk at Jimin, who was sporting an expression that told you he was bored with the entire conversation and had been tired of Jungkook five minutes ago.

“Take your pick,” Jimin shrugs, “it’s either one of the freshman or me. Personally, I can stretch you out real good—”

“Okay stop.” You say finally, pressing a hand to either boys chest, you level Jimin with an exasperated expression, one that he pointedly ignores before turning to Jungkook, “I’m going to partner with him today, Jungkook, the other girls are really helpful and if you have any questions you can ask me but I don’t think it’s a good idea to try and deviate from routine. Me and Jimin have been working together for a lot longer and it’ll take both of us to be able to incorporate you into the flow of things. It’s just easier this way.”

Jimin shoots the younger boy a smug look, one you want to smack off his face because despite the rush of butterflies Jimin’s current possessive nature was giving you, you knew it was only because he didn’t want Jungkook around. He didn’t want you injured because you were just a stepping stone towards his real goal which was essentially regionals. It sucked and was kind of dick-ish but you knew this about Jimin from the get go, he had never pretended otherwise or came to you under false pretenses. Jimin had a very one-tracked mind and it was currently stuck on the aforementioned competition your team faced.

“Stop it.” You sigh and Jimin raises a brow at you, “You know what you’re doing. You’re egging him on an—unf.”

You wither him with a glare when he positions you to get a better seat between your legs. “You were saying?”

You were really beginning to hate stretching. Especially with Jimin.

“You’re little games not cute and it’s making things difficult for m—shit.” You curse when he presses back on your leg until one knee was pressed against your shoulder.

“Should we work on your flexibility next?” Jimin asks and he’s obnoxiously close to you, his cool breath fanning over your face, but your focus was on his lips. Your throat goes dry when he licks them, his voice lowering an octave, “Or should we do that later? When we’re alone?”

His questions hits you like a punch to the gut and you’re suddenly choking because that almost sounded flirtatious but when you glance up to try and get a read on Jimin’s expression, he’s impassive, unfazed by his double entendre.

“W-What?” You stammer, shoving at his chest until the pressure on your leg gives. Jimin blinks at you curiously.

“We might not have enough time, we could do it at the apartment?” He offers innocently, only Jimin was about as innocent as Satan and you didn’t buy his raised eyebrows and saucer eyes.

A sigh leaves your lips as yourself down on the grass. Tired. So tired.


“Since this discussion has long since been put off,” you sigh before plopping yourself down on an available seat of grass, “I’m opening the floor. I hear that you all want new uniforms so Jimin and I have decided that we—”

“Not me,” Jimin corrects, “just her. If it were up to me you’d all be wearing trash bags to better suit your shitty performance.”

Jimin and I,” you begin again, “have decided to take suggestions and if you guys are really dead set on this then we can work on fundraising too.”

“The current uniforms are fine, the only ones who want to change it are the freshman!” Kihyun calls from the back, garnering more than a few glares and making Jimin snicker.

“They are not fine. They’re gray.” Eunha chimes in, “Like prison cells. Gray is why prisoners are unhappy.”

“Really? I always thought it was the loss of freedom and free manual labor,” Jimin snorts, ignoring when you slap his chest.

“I think new uniforms would be a good look.” Jungkook says, leaning back to inspect the back of your thighs, “I say we take the hem up an inch… or five.”

“Ten dollars.” You say without blinking and Jungkook sulks.

“What about black uniforms? It’s a flattering color! And we could go with gray for an accent so we don’t stray too far from school colors.”

“That's…” You begin hesitantly, “not a bad idea, actually.”

“Oh! Long sleeve tops! I’ve been looking them up online and they look so much more… Professional? A lot of the top schools are going for long sleeve instead of sleeveless.” Eunha offers.

“Maybe if you all started practicing like a top school, we’ll consider it.” Jimin scoffs and groans echo through out the huddle.

“Draw up a design. Get it approved by us and coach and while you’re at it, start thinking of fundraising ideas to pitch.” You say, rising to your feet and dusting the grass from your bottom, “If it’s good and everything works out maybe we’ll be able to get new uniforms before regionals.”

“Practice is over. Go home and stretch, hydrate and ice if you need to assholes, I’m tired of you coming to me with injuries that could have been avoided.” Jimin seethes and you roll your eyes because you think, for a moment, beneath all the bravado he actually gives a shit about the kids.

It isn’t until you’re hitching your gym bag up your shoulder and swapping your tennis shoes out for slippers that you feel Jungkook’s weight being pressed onto your shoulders.

“Can I help you?” You sigh, shaking off his grip and making him whine.

“What the hell was that?” He glowers, gesturing towards the field and when you stare at him blankly he elaborates, “That practice was worst than literally any training I’ve done for basketball—off season included.”

“Welcome to cheerleading, bitch.” You say, slapping him on the shoulder. You turn to leave, and press fingers to your closed eyes when your movement is halted by his grip on your wrist. “What?”

“Can you… you know… help with that thing you offered earlier?” He coughs, rubbing the back of his neck and you eye him incredulously.

“The blowjob?”

“What? No! No! I meant… the routines. It’s just… that… you know Jimin doesn’t like me too much and the stuff we were going over earlier was complicated but I can’t ask him and I don’t want to look like an idiot I just,” Jungkook sighs and it takes every bit of self control not to snap at him, even going as far as to remind yourself that he was doing you a favor. Even if it was only out of debt. He was trying to help.

Which is why you throw your bag down with an exasperated sigh and slip your shoes back on, “Let’s practice a bit then.”


Somewhere down the line you had just assumed, no, hoped that either of the boys would get used to each other. At least enough to be civil. You didn’t need them to be glued at the foreskin but you did need them to not give you a migraine whenever you were forced to be in the same room as them.

“This is shared space. That means no boyfriends after eleven o’clock,” Jimin hissed after one entire evening of Jungkook lounging on your couch, eating a bag of Cheetohs and getting crumbs everywhere. “So get whatever breed of cockroach this is, out of my living room.”

“He’s not my—”

Jungkook cuts you off with a withering glare, pausing the newest episode of Bones to speak around a mouthful of chips, “Noona, can we go over the routine again this weekend? I think I’m starting to forget. I wouldn’t want to choke on competition day. That would suck.”

His threat was so apparent that Jimin’s lips thin, making a move towards the younger boy, if it weren’t for your grip on his upper arm. “Jeon Jungkook, do you wan—”

“Let’s go to my room.” You interrupt, tugging the younger boy up by the wrist and dragging him the rest of the way.

“What was that for?” Jungkook grumbles, rubbing at his wrist as though it hurt, as if he wasn’t a whole foot taller and a person heavier than you.

“Stop pissing off my roommate.” You demand, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh come on! I’m not even doing anything.” Jungkook glares, “It’s not my fault he has a hard on for you!”

“Trust me when I say he doesn’t,” you snort and glare when Jungkook leans back against your headboard, completely ignoring you, “Besides, all of this was not apart of our deal. Get out of my house.”

“He totally does,” Jungkook argues, disregarding your earlier statement and making himself comfortable under your throw, “I mean, I know girls have a hard time admitting they’re wrong but trust me, you’re wrong about this one. A guy doesn’t get pissed like that unless you’re fucking with a girl he’s into.”

“A normal guy doesn’t,” you correct, “Jimin likes his space. You are intruding on that, in more than one sense.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, but I’m telling you I’m 100% right.” Jungkook shrugs, reaching over


“He’s wrong.” Nayeon sighs, head rested on her palm as you occupy the seat across from her. Cutting into important study time, again. “Well, not entirely wrong.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You crinkle your nose at her and she rolls her eyes.

“He has a hard on for someone, it’s just not you.” Nayeon whispers and your eyes widen.

“No!” You gasp.

“Yes.”

“No!”

Yes.”

“No!”

Yes!” she says, slamming her hands down on the table, and wincing when people several tables over turn to gawk. “I mean think about it. You said Jimins gay right? And that he shows no emotion save for mild disinterest where you’re concerned but suddenly Jeon Jungkook comes along and he’s irritable, territorial, emotional? Jimin is one of those guys, you know?”

“I don’t.” You shake your head, but all your attention is focused on her, you’re hanging on her every word.

“He doesn’t know how to properly express his emotions so he’s lashing out.” she explains slowly.

And it’s like everything suddenly makes sense in the universe, all the pieces click together and your heart feels as though a fat man has just situated himself on your chest. Because, did Jimin really like Jungkook? Were you really going to be forced to sit back and watch him pine for another man, again? Then there was the more jealous part of you, the ugly emotions that lurked beneath the surface that you weren’t ready to address. Thoughts like, do you lie to him? You hadn’t intended on keeping the entire Jungkook thing a secret because if you were being honest with yourself you thought Jimin might try to throw him off the nearest balcony if he knew you weren’t actually dating him. But the more you thought about it the more you wanted to keep it to yourself and it wasn’t exactly lying, was it?

“You’re making the face.” Nayeon sighs.

“What face?” You frown.

“The one you make when you’re having a heated, internal monologue over your skewed moral compass.” She explains.

“I was not…” you lie before plopping your head down in defeat.

You totally were, but Nayeon is polite enough not to call you out on it.


If you had to rank your to do list for the day, telling Jimin that you weren’t actually dating Jungkook so that your roommate who you had been openly pining for for the last three years could swoop in was ranked at the bottom. Right above dying and going to another party with Hoseok’s weird friends. Though if you were being honest with yourself, you’d take death happily at this point, it sounded a whole hell of a lot less painful. Especially when just trying to squeeze yourself into Jimin’s schedule was a pain in the ass.

If he wasn’t on campus, juggling seven classes to complete school on time he was at cheer practice, which wasn’t a prime place to tell him because Jungkook—and if he wasn’t at cheer practice he was at the gym, or asleep and you’d try waking Jimin up exactly once in your entire time knowing him and it was one too many. The guy wasn’t exactly a morning person.

So the gym it was.

“I’m surprised you actually wanted to come.” Jimin muses, fixing your posture before switching out your kettlebell for a heavier one. You try not to glare.

“I figure,” you grunt when he lets go, leaving you to manage the ten pound weight on your own, a small feat when you’ve already been there for thirty minutes and your arms felt like jelly, “you were right. I wouldn’t be a good captain if I started neglecting myself.”

“Hmm..” He hums, and pressed a hand to your exposed belly, “suck this in.”

“So I was thinking,” you pant and Jimin quirks a brow at you.

“A scary prospect.” He murmurs.

“I was thinking,” you begin again, before dropping the weight completely and turning to face him, “about me and Jungkook…. and me and you.”

“Did I say you could stop?” He implores and you roll your eyes at him before switching arms, “What do you and Jungkook have to do with you and me?”

“You’re my roommate.” You grunt, heaving up with all your might. “And you hate him.”

“You’re not wrong about either of those things,” he agrees, “but I’d like to reiterate my first question of what do either of those things have to do with each other?”

“I just…” You try to get the words out but your muscles are on fire and your chest is tight, so instead you throw the weight down with a grunt before turning to him, “Do you like Jungkook?”

“What?” He blinks at you. “You just said yourself I hated him.”

“Yes, okay I know but you know sometimes you say one thing and you mean another.” You shrug.

Jimins expression remains bland, emotionless.

“You’re asking me if I have… feelings for your boyfriend, correct? That’s what we’re getting at here?” Jimin asks bluntly and you shrink under his intense scrutiny.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you say quietly.

A long silence follows your statement, in which Jimin stares at you, just stares and you cow under his gaze because well, it’s Jimin and he’s pretty fucking intimidating. You look anywhere but at him, the airconditioner, the weights, the treadmill, all while still able to feel him boring holes into the side of your head and you wonder maybe, if you had over stepped. If you had spoken too soon because granted you and Jimin were pretty close but clearly not close enough because to this day he still never really talked about the whole liking boys things or even relationships in general. It made you wonder just how many people Jimin had dated, if he had asked them out, if he was softer, sweeter or—

“You’re really dense you know that?” Jimin shakes his head at you before walking over to the weights, leaving you there slack jawed and a little bit annoyed.

“Hey! Wait up!” You call after him, but he doesn’t, unsurprisingly. “I didn’t mean it like that I was only asking because I wanted to tell you that—”

“Did you watch that new clown movie?” Jimin asks suddenly and he nearly gives you whiplash with how quick he’s jumping topics. You open your mouth to argue, to tell him you were only asking so you could tell him you and Jungkook weren’t really dating but the glint in his eye tells you not to tread there. He’s done talking about it, and by effect so are you.

“No I haven’t.” You sigh, your body slumping in defeat.

“Good,” he grunts, pulling down on the weights before turning his attention to you. And you applaud yourself because you don’t keel over at the sight of a sweaty, sleeveless Park Jimin doing reps on the pull down machine, veins bulging and muscles flexed. He sends you a look that tells you he knows exactly what you’re thinking and makes your back straighten indignantly. “Did you hear what I just said?”

“The clown movie.” You repeat proudly, only for Jimin to roll over and flick your forehead.

“Yes genius, but after that,” he sends you a grin, one you’re not used to seeing. He’s teasing you, but it doesn’t annoy you quite as much as usual, “I said let’s go see it. I figure you owe me after that insult you pulled.”

“Wh—” Your mouth opens and the closes before pointing a finger in his direction, “I didn’t mean it like that, if you would just let me explain—”

“Well I took it that way, you’re the only one stupid enough to date that overgrown toddler. And besides, it’s a simple question. Yes or no?” He frowns and you sigh.

“I mean… I don’t really have anything else to do this weekend so..”

“Good to know I’m a last resort.” He snorts and you hide a flush because if only he knew.

And really, if you looked at the entire thing, your situation with Jimin in retrospect it was truly all your fault. Because no matter how much you claim to have both your feelings and heart in check there is no such thing as control when it comes to love. And so you get your hopes, let yourself hope for a moment, with Jungkook’s earlier words replaying like a soft lull. When really you should’ve taken the idiots advice with a grain of salt. Or just not at all.

The Wrong Number

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Summary : you accidentally texted the wrong person one night who happens to be a major celebrity. And from that day on, you two can’t seem to stop talking to each other.

Read Part One Here

A/N : SO many of you asked for a part two, so here it is!! I hope you all enjoy!!

Warning ; language?

Work had been such a pain in the ass this entire week. You were exhausted and annoyed, and part of you wanted to quit.

But it was your dream. Even if you were playing as assistant for now, you knew it would all be worth it in the end.

Luckily you had someone to keep you from going crazy.

Jensen had texted you almost every single day since you had accidentally texted him instead of your best friend, Bonnie.

He was the only thing that you looked forward too. Which you weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

Having someone to vent too, talk to about anything and not feel judged. It was beyond the best feeling in the world. It almost felt like you had known him forever.

But tonight, you two planned to finally FaceTime each other.

No more hiding behind texts.

You were kind of nervous, but also excited. To talk to the actor you had crushed on forever. It all felt so surreal.

Laying in bed, you saw your phone light up and his name appear on the screen. Immediately your stomac fluttered.

“You got this.” You whispered to yourself.

You gently pressed the green button answer the call, and breathed in a sharp breath.

Once the picture cleared, and you were finally able to see his face, you Felt like you were on cloud nine.

Jensen had a big smile on his face, as he looked at his screen. There you were on his phone. No longer a still picture that he looked at almost everyday. You were mesmerizing to say the least, breath taking.

He was excited and nervous about this moment since you agreed to FaceTime the night before. It was the only thing he could think about, which kept messing him up during his scenes.

“Your voice is a lot higher than I imagined.” You chuckled. “I guess I was expecting Dean’s voice.”

Jensen belted out into laughter, his head cocking back. Once he was able to compose himself, he cleared his throat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said, making his voice low.

After a while, you both went back and forth for what seemed like an eternity. He talked about his life as an actor and how much he enjoyed it. And you talked about your life.

There was never a dull moment which was weird since you were used to those awkward pauses and short conversations with the guys you dated.

“Okay-” you said, laying on your side as you plopped your phone down beside you, with a pillow holding it up so you didn’t have to use your hand. “What’s your favorite prank you’ve done on set?”

Jensen purses his lips and thought just for a second before remembering the craziest thing he had done.

“Well this one time, Jared and I wanted to mess with the new guy, which in this case was misha.” He said. “Well while he was taking a shower in his trailer, Jared and I snuck in, took all of his clothes and towels and left an elephant g-string. Let’s just say, he wasn’t too thrilled.”

“Oh my god.” You laughed so hard, your entire body was shaking. Your stomach constricted and you couldn’t stop.

Jensen watched you through his screen, admiring the pure sound of your laughter. He decided to take a screenshot, to remember this moment forever.

“Oh my god!” You said once again. “I can only imagine what he looked like.”

“Yeah–"he chuckled. “Wasn’t a pretty sight.” 
Jensen leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his eyes as he yawned. Tilting his head back.

“Tired, old man?” You teased. 
He returned his gaze back to his screen, and flashed a smirk. “Just a little.”

“I can go so you can get some sleep.”

Jensen sighed, wishing to see you in person. To feel you and actually meet you. It’s only been two weeks, but it’s been the best two weeks of his life. No one has ever made him feel the way you made him feel. It was strange. 
He didn’t want to hang up, let alone stop talking to you. If he could, he would stay on the phone forever.

“Not yet.” He said. “I don’t want to say bye yet.” 
Your lips curved into a soft smile, feeling your stomach flutter.

“Me neither.” You muttered.

Jensen walked over to his bed, and laid down. His body resting into the mattress.

This was the moment he was going to cherish forever. The first night you two actually spoke to each other, and it was everything he imagined and more.

“Comfortable?” You asked.

He smiled. “Yeah, feels good to finally lay in bed.”

“I know what you mean.” You chuckled. “I look forward to it every day.”

“Well now you have something else to look forward too.” He said.

You cocked your brow, intrigued by his statement. “Oh yeah? What else do I have to look forward too?”

“Me.”

Yall remember *NSYNC?

Remember how they (along with the backstreet boys) were the most popular boybands worldwide during the late 90s and into the millennium?

Remember the member Lance Bass?

Remember how he dated Danielle Fishel and they were “so in love”?

Remember how after they broke up, he exclusively dated women?

Remember all the rumors he had about him not being straight?

Remember when TMZ and Perez Hilton started following him around?

Remember when shortly after all this he came out as gay 4 years after *NSYNC disbanded?


Remember the reasons he gave as to why he didn’t come out a lot sooner than he did?

Do you think people told his speculators back then that they were delusional just like they tell Kaisoo shippers that now?

I bet they did, but in the end:

I rest my case.

So apparently Jungkook has a personal Instagram

This is the instagram account in question (Update: I guess I will update this for those who find this post days or weeks after. The account was a fake, it was found that this person has created fake accounts before. As you can see they have deleted their account, this is mainly because they had 100k plus followers, most followers from a popular bts info youtuber who made a video about it but without doing real research and having the comments disabled so most people believed it was jungkook’s real account and were DMing it. I think the main reason for deleting the acc was probably that the studiobillybean instagram were they stole the location pictures from ended up finding out about the fake account and in turn started posting BTS pictures. Shortly after the fake account deactivated their account. 

It’s sad that there are people who create accounts like this, there is another fake jungkook acc that posted an instagram story pretending to be jungkook singing but in fact it was an audio from an old bts radio interview. There’s also a fake Yoongi personal Acc. I have learn’t alot and I won’t be making a post like this again anytime soon…. I have come to realise that some army’s are just…..sPeCiAl.) 

it has 6 posts, apparently Wkskkk on the hangul keyboard is equivalent to Jeonaaa (i don’t know korean so…) the account has also written I miss you on Jungkook’s brother’s post of the dog. (I’m not going to lie, I have written I miss you Jungkook, when he hadn’t posted a selfie in a while so…yeah)

But note, the I miss you on the dog is kinda important, remember that.

Before I did some searching, they were a few things that didn’t add up. 

1. Jungkook is the member who is least active on social media so for a member to have a account like this, Jungkook would be the last person I would think.

 2. Let’s assume Jungkook has a personal account like this, he has a high definition camera that takes high quality pictures.

Exibit a: Taken by Jungkook.

Even if he used his phone, the pictures would not come out that low quality. So, my conclusion before searching was that maybe it’s a member of staff with a bad camera. Oh, how wrong I was….

Firstly, I image searched the pictures posted and let’s start with the Puma pictures.

These are the ones posted on the instagram account:

When I imaged search the second picture I ended up on this website. 

 It has a lot of pictures on the day when they were shooting for puma.

Notice the difference in quality, these pictures are hd, so i’m guessing the person used a filter.

Let’s talk about this jikook post. The exact same picture can be found on Bon Voyage 2.

This is selfie Jungkook himself hasn’t posted in full quality we only have this preview. This would explain why the picture is posted 4 times, because it’s small and why it’s in black and white.

This picture we have all seen it. They put a filter to make it look low quality.

Heres a better quality version.

Now I’m going to move on to the picture of the dog.

This to me, looks creepy because from my prospective it looks like a picture taken from outside a door or window..i don’t know. I google searched it and there was no match found. So, this could mean there is a picture for this dog somewhere it just wasnt found by google image search or maybe this is the only actual picture taken by this person of the dog. Remember that post where his person said I miss you on Jungkook’s brother’s instagram. That was a picture of the same dog. 

I searched the other pictures of the wall, buildings and stuff but there were no matches found there. This was the only match found and it was other korean instagram’s of sorts. 

Edit: All the pictures of the wall, tree and with the radiator are all taken from this instagram account. 

So, I would assume this person is Korean but I don’t think it is Jungkook nor a member of staff. Just a fan of Jungkook. But you never know I could be wrong. This is just what I found. 

(I’m going to tag @kookminworld0507   and @myriam1457-blog  because I wouldn’t have even known about the acccount if it wasn’t for your posts. 

Also, i do believe that BTS members have personal social media accounts it’s just I highly doubt this one is actually Jungkook’s.