I’ve been taught that love is beautiful and kind, but it isn’t like that at all. It is beautiful, but it’s a terrible beauty, a ruthless one, and you fall—you fall, and the thing is you want to. You don’t care what’s coming, you just want who your heart beats for.
Hey there love your blog. Quick question I'm trying to write a fanasty book where one of the main characters use both swords & guns. A katana on his left hip & a short katana on his right aswell as carrying a desert eagle on his person but he lives in a world where technology & magic exist except firearms are illegal. Is it possible to write scene's where this combintaion works?
The “short katana” would be a wakizashi. It’s a distinct
weapon in its own right and was traditionally part of a samurai’s accoutrements,
though this is probably the least significant issue here.
The combination works in so far as you remember that real
people make really horrible decisions in an attempt to seem cool. The Desert
Eagle is a very flashy, somewhat terrible, gun. You carry one as an aesthetic
choice, not because you want to actually kill someone with it. It’s big, bulky,
unreasonably heavy, and stupidly expensive. The only point to owning one is to
say, “look at what a badass I could be.”
The katana is a very flashy, somewhat terrible, sword. Stop
me if this one sounds familiar; this is a sword you carry as an aesthetic
choice, not because you actually want to kill someone with it, but because you
want to say, “look at what a badass I could be.”
In both cases you’re talking about items that present the
concept of a weapon far more valuable, lethal, and cool, than the real articles
offer. With the katana, there’s also all of the associated cultural baggage. The
katana is, literally, a holy symbol in Shinto. If your character is carrying
one for religious reasons, that’s one thing; but, if they’re looking for “the
best sword,” then, it’s a terrible choice.
It’s also probably worth pointing out that both the Desert
Eagle and the katana require two hands to wield properly. Desert Eagles have a “floating
mag,” meaning the magazine remains somewhat loose in the grip, while locked. If
the operator fails to properly stabilize the pistol, this can result in the
pistol failing to feed, meaning it won’t properly load the next round into the
chamber, and forcing the user to cycle the slide manually. This isn’t an issue
if you’re using the pistol as designed, but if you’re trying to fire it one
handed, because your other hand is occupied with a katana, it could easily
result in a dead man’s click long before the magazine is empty.
There’s a similar issue with the katana, the design works
with the idea that the wielder will be using it with both hands. Specifically
you use your index and middle finger on your off-hand to control the blade,
while using your main hand for power. The problem with wielding one single
handed should be immediately obvious; you can flail around with it, but you can’t
really get much value from it that way. At that point, you’d almost be better
off with a machete, simply because it would offer a more comfortable grip, and would
be easier to swing.
While wakizashi are frequently matched with a katana and sold
together, they’re not intended for simultaneous
use. The wakizashi had distinct uses, mostly so the samurai would have a blade
they could actually use in doors, but it wasn’t supposed to be dual wielded
with a katana. Think of it like buying a kitchen knife set, sure there’s eight
knives in there, but you’re not going to be using all of them together at once.
I’ll add, I’ve got nothing against a character that has a
reason to use a katana. If it’s a badge of office, a family heirloom, a sign of
their order or training, that’s fine. It’s the idea that “this is the best
possible sword ever,” which I object to. It’s a two-handed sword. It’s not
particularly great. It has a dedicated martial style, predicated on using very
fragile blades, (and historical katanas are exceedingly fragile).
Finally, if you’ve got a setting where firearms are outlawed,
there’s a few problems specific to the Desert Eagle. I mentioned that they were
large and expensive, so let’s break those down a little. First, these are
massive pistols. A Mark XIX Desert Eagle weighs just under four and a half
pounds. For a pistol that is comically heavy. This is also a gun that is over a
foot long. These are large handguns.
They are difficult to conceal. If you’re living in a setting where owning a gun
is illegal, this is the last thing you want to be carrying on the street. (They’re
pretty terrible carry weapons in the real world as well.)
On the current market, with firearms that are legal to buy, a
used Desert Eagle will set you back at least $1,200 ($1,400 to $1,700 is more
likely, for a gun in decent shape). In contrast, if you’re shopping for a solid
conceal carry pistol you can expect to spend somewhere between $400 and $500.
Even high grade “tactical” pistols rarely break $1k, unless they’re collector’s
items (or SIGs). Most “cool” pistols you see on TV probably cost between $600
If you’re wondering why SIGs manage to command higher prices,
it’s because (in most cases) they’re remarkably high quality. I’ve had issues
with the American produced SIG Sauer P226s, but in general SIGs are worth the
The Desert Eagle really isn’t worth the money. As I said
earlier, these are guns you buy to show off, not because you’re looking for a
And, all of this is before you step back and apply the
economics for a setting where getting a handgun is illegal. At that point, you’re
talking about a gun that could easily cost more than an older model car. Those
economics skew against you even harder every time your character pulls the
Desert Eagles come chambered in a couple different rounds.
There’s .357 magnum, .44 magnum, and .50AE. (Technically, there’s also .41
magnum and .440 variants as well.) Gun stores aren’t going to stock a lot, but
you can buy them if you’re using something chambered for it. Also worth noting,
if you’re dropping the hammer on a .50AE Desert Eagle, it will set you back
more than a dollar per bullet. (The current, actual cost in the US is ~$1.35
per round.) But, if you’re in a setting where firearms aren’t easily available,
your black market’s going to need to focus on rounds they can actually sell.
They may keep a little bit around
(and would charge way more than the
price I just quoted), but once it’s gone, getting your hands on more could be
very difficult. In this sense, it would be much safer if your character was
using a firearm that matched to the common calibers in their setting. The
reasoning is, that your black market may not keep much .50AE around (if they
keep any at all), but they probably will stock 9mm, .45, or whatever your
setting’s cops use. It’ll cost substantially more than it would in the real
world, but it will be something your character can buy. It also won’t leave
behind freakishly expensive shell casings every time they open fire. A string
of killings involving a .50AE pistol? That will bring the cops down on their
contacts looking for someone who’s been scavenging around the black market for
those 12.7mm rounds far faster than a few people who got plugged with a black
To a lesser extent, the katana and wakizashi have a similar
issue. Yeah, sure, they’re cool, I guess, but they’re also memorable. If your
character is using a sword (and that’s common in the setting), having the cops
looking for someone using a guy with a katana will result in a much shorter
search ending at their doorstep than someone with a random non-descript sword
or even something like a machete.
If the katana is enchanted, then sure, your character is kind
of stuck with it (up to a point), but it’s still a weapon they’d need to be
somewhat careful about hiding, and more careful about using.
So, yeah, it’s entirely plausible that you’d have a character
who thought all of these were a good idea. If you have a setting where they
could actually get their hands on them is a different question.
If you’re thinking they could use the weapons together, then
no. They could switch between them, but trying to use them all at once would
result in wild flailing, and a malfunctioning pistol.
I can think of, at least, one legitimate reason why your
character might carry around a Desert Eagle (or a katana) in a setting like you’re
describing, and that’s to scare people. If you’re an enforcer for some shadowy
criminal organization, then being able to shove a 14 inch, chrome, monster gun
up someone’s nose is an effective option (and yes, the Desert Eagle is a model of handgun you can press
into someone without disabling it). But, even then, they’d probably carry
something far more practical for times when they were there to kill someone,
and not just put the fear of Elmer Keith into them.
Depending on the setting (or the organization they work for),
then they might carry and use a katana for that kind of intimidation instead.
For instance: If they were Yakuza, it would make some sense. At that point, you
might reasonably get a character who
used that exact set of weapons for intimidation, and would actually use the
katana or wakizashi when provoked.
In general, though, there’s nothing wrong with a character
thinking this is all a good idea. It’s not. But, if they could afford it, they
might go chasing after that concept anyway.
i just had a fucking RAGER of a shutdown like the worst one ever and i’m trying to pull myself out of it so really what better of a time than this
she uses the exact same communication methods when she’s commanding a crowd as she does in every day conversation. it’s a little offputting and perplexing to everyone else, and she struggles very hard to communicate one on one.
she always thought she’d be a terrible leader because she really just doesn’t seem to be very good at talking to people and making people like her, but she’s stunned to find that 1. giving uninterrupted speeches where she gets very passionate about her topic go over quite well in front of a crowd 2. being very Intense and Focused when making a point in front of an audience is perceived as a sign of strength and wisdom, rather than aggressive or a turn off like it is when making small talk
her movements seem kind of mechanical or stuttered to most people. the only time her body seems to work the way she needs it to is when she’s fighting.
her lending her strength out to other people is genuinely the most selfless and compassionate act she’s capable of making, because it depletes nearly all of her spoons and makes her enormously vulnerable until she has time to recharge
she has such a difficult time with sarcasm. she ends up being grateful for her reputation as a super intense and slightly terrifying leader because this is the facade she uses to disguise that she literally cannot understand other people’s senses of humor sometimes.
she’s actually a super sweet and sensitive person but she often panics and feels so uncomfortable when other people start making jokes or using heavy sarcasm or excessively dry humor that she doesn’t understand, so she’ll leave the room.
it’s really sad and makes her feel sort of helpless because she can’t quite make friends and everyone seems to think she hates them, but she doesn’t realize that she has a resting bitch face and she just really truly genuinely forgets to say basic greetings sometimes.
she h h h h aa a a t e s showering, the water pellets feel like they’re attacking her and bar soap is hopelessly dry and starchy feeling and scented shampoos or shower gels feel nice but are so strongly scented that it sends her into sensory hell
she is absolutely floating on cloud nine when she discovers the roman baths.
sometimes she’ll be doing okay and everything will be cool but she just. needs a second. so she’ll quick find a door to lock herself behind and FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP….”phew.” and then go resume whatever she was doing.
she has a playlist of instrumental music (her faves are strings) and after a hard day of praetor work, she’ll put her headphones in and slowly rock back and forth to unwind. that’s like her favorite activity to do she could sit like that for hours.
she doesn’t really have meltdowns or shutdowns in the traditional sense but she DOES dissociate when she gets like really agitated. it’s a fairly new symptom (or it used to happen rather a bit when she was younger but she seems to have blocked it out, because it stopped when she arrived at camp jupiter and only starts up again once the war is over.) it’s more connected to her emotional state than anything else.
she looks very outwardly chill when she’s dissociating and it tends to be the “my body is moving on autopilot but i actually have literally no control of what i’m doing rn and i feel like i’m watching myself from outside my body” kind. if it gets REALLY bad though (like as in she’s very very agitated and emotionally distressed) it’s the “who’s fucking hand is this” kind
her dogs act like therapy dogs, really. she’s such a lucky bastard to have them i swear
she can usually sense when she’s going nonverbal before it actually happens (Luck y BASTARD) so she’ll start communicating in grunts and one word answers on purpose to like, charge up, or store energy or whatever.
she’s really good at keeping several spoons on reserve for important moments. she unfortunately had a lot of time to practice this with a childhood as rough and awful as her’s was.
if she says “i don’t want to talk about this” she really fucking means i literally do not—cannot talk about this right now and if you do not drop it i am literally going to fucking lose it. she usually leaves the room before it gets that bad.
cc’s spa is such a nice place for her because she can just braid people’s hair for hours and hours and she doesn’t have to talk to them or look at them she can just like use their hair and it feels so stimmy and nice
she is a hu m m e r she does a steady monotone hum when she’s happy or content or relaxed. circe’s customers used to gossip about it and she got really embarrassed so she made herself stop, and she doesn’t pick up the habit again until she’s at camp jupiter.
jason always thought it was really cute and he wisely never commented on it because he had a feeling it would make her self conscious (he was right). he always felt strangely honored that she felt comfortable enough that she would do it in front of him (even if he didn’t understand that it was a stim, he clearly knew it was something she did when she was happy and relaxed and only when she was alone or alone with him).
she was selectively mute (partially nonverbal??? idk what the terminology is for this is actually but It’s A Thing) as a child and so that was how she got diagnosed, because her teachers were always like “um HELLO sir your daughter doesn’t speak to us?? literally ever???” and her dad was like a total deadbeat, so he probably just punished her for it or called her stupid or whatever, but hylla exhausted all her resources researching it and was the best most supportive big sister any autistic kid could ask for.
eye contact is super bad in one on one or small scale situations but once again she looks a lot more comfortable in a crowd because she can just stare at everyone’s forehead or scan faces without really seeing
she’s super hyperempathetic towards animals!!!! (don’t fucking make me think about scipio!!!!!!! there was no fucking reason he needed to die!!!!!!!!!!!)
also animals really like her. this is a helpful skill when meeting lupa, understandably. she’s very good at wolf language, considering she doesn’t use words as her like most primary kind of communication (and sometimes feels like verbal speech is impossible)
The sparkly purple notebook was almost always kept in a safe spot, tucked away under El’s mattress and taken out at the end of each day so that she could record, in increasingly neat and loopy handwriting, the events that had occurred since morning. In a pink or green gel pen, gifts from Nancy, El ensured that every happy detail of her life was pressed onto the page with love, preserved in writing. She had so many terrible memories and although better ones were quickly accumulating and El refused to risk forgetting a single good day.
The pages of her diary were filled with amusing anecdotes about her friends: Max trying to teach Lucas and Dustin to do cartwheels, Steve and Nancy taking her and Max to watch planes take off from the airport, going to the park with Lucas to play baseball, learning how to play hopscotch with Holly and Mike.
There were stories about her new family as well: Jim really, honestly trying to make snickerdoodles but forgetting the sugar, Jonathan teaching her how to make pancakes, folding and painting paper airplanes with Will, dancing in the living room hand-in-hand with Joyce.
But most the pages were inked with detailed memories of Mike: the way his freckled cheeks turned bright red whenever she pressed her lips to them, the way he traced pictures on the back of her shirt while they watched movies in the Wheeler’s basement, his familiar and comfortable smell (bubblegum, lavender fabric softener, and—ever so faintly—chocolate chip cookies), and his height—perfect for the piggyback rides she was consistently offered.
It was a rainy Sunday morning when Mike, with his freckled cheeks and familiar smell, appeared on the Hoppers’ doorstep, soaked to the bone but with a beaming smile on his face. He would insist, for the remainder of his life, that no rainy day was so gloomy as to dampen spending time with El.
On that day, Jim—leaving his adopted daughter in charge of the bacon bubbling on the stove—retrieved Mike a dry pair of pants and a sweater—several sizes too big, despite being from his younger, fitter days. Ushered into El’s bedroom to change, the door closed behind him, Mike caught sight of the small purple book that had been carefully placed on El’s night table. She had, unknown to him, left it out the night before. Mike contemplated the book for a long moment before picking it up and gently opening its front cover.
That evening El returned to her room, eager to commit her day of movies and board games with Mike and Jim to the familiar lined pages of her journal. She slid a hand deftly under her mattress, fingers groping for an item that wasn’t there. With some confusion, El glanced around her room, her eyes finally falling on the book, placed atop her pillow. She remembered, all at once, that she had not left it there herself.
Eyes wide, El carefully opened the book to the very last page she had written on. Immediately, on the opposite page, her gaze was drawn to Mike’s messy and unmistakable scrawl. As El read his words, her heart fluttered, a smile growing on her lips.
Hi El! I didn’t read anything, but I wanted to tell you again that I love you. You’re so perfect. From Mike.
You get a terrible, long, unkind review on one of your stories that basically tears it, and your ability to construct a decent story, to pieces. Saddened, you accept it as your lot in life as a writer, because you can’t please everybody, and not everyone is going to like what you do, and do your best to soldier on, etc. etc., only you find yourself remembering every word about how absolutely shitty you are as a writer every time you open a new word document and try to write something new. Anything new. In fact, you feel your desire to write at all slowly withering into a husk of twisted, dried out dreams and dust bunnies. You stop writing. You fall into despair. You decide to pick up a new hobby – probably Sudoku. You’re terrible at it, because you’re terrible with numbers. You used to do word searches, but now words, which used to be your friends, have turned into taunting, cruel reminders of how shitty you are as a writer and a human being. You go back to Sudoku. You’re still awful at it.
Do you delete the comment and forget it ever happened, or do you leave it there as a silent and accusing reminder of how shitty you are?
I literally haven’t stopped shaking since I found out several hours ago what’s going on with my friend (that’s concerning I may have an actual health issue oh well) and it’s just urging me to write this lgbtq+ post apocalyptic novel…
♢ genre: pretty much fluff ( but maybe a lillll bit of angst??)
♢ pairing: jimin // you
♢ word count: 4,781
♢ warnings: none
“hi, you don’t know me, we’re from different houses, and i’m not exactly sure how to tell you this, but i think your cat is in love with my toad??” was all you wanted to tell him. Only it goes terribly wrong when Park Jimin mistakes you for one of his one night stands. You hope that’s the last time you’ll ever speak to him, only it’s too late. Once you’re on his radar, you won’t be able to get rid of him.
A/N:inspired by a prompt i saw floating around tumblr!! although it got reaaaaally off track and long
selcouth (adj.) - unfamiliar, rare, strange and yet marvelous
“Agh!” you yelp, hopping backwards and scrambling for something to hold onto. You get a glimpse of a long, fluffy orange tail before it disappears under your bed. One of your house mates, Heeyeon, looks up from where she’s doing her Defense Against the Dark Arts homework.
“Why are you so loud?” she sighs, leaning back onto her hands. She watches as you slowly crouch down.
“That stupid cat is here again,” you say, frowning. Heeyeon slides off her bed and pads over to join you by yours.
“Again?” Both of you lift up the dark blue bed sheets that cover your bed, just in time to see a streak of orange fly out. You cry out, while Heeyeon fishes out her wand and flicks it. The door to your dorm slams shut, with the orange cat colliding into it.
“Mreowwww,” it wails, scratching at the dark mahogany door. You wince at the noise. You’re sure there’s going to be scratch marks.
“How does it even get in here?” you mutter as both of you slowly walk towards it. You and Heeyeon decide to stop a good two feet away when the cat spins around and hisses at you, its fur bushing up.
“I swear, the poor cat is in love with your dumb toad,” Heeyeon comments, shaking her head. “Last time we found it, it was like kissing it.”
You glare at her. “Okay, it’s not exactly my toad. It’s Jungkook’s, and I’m just helping him look over it while he’s gone for Christmas.”
“Same thing,” says Heeyeon, tentatively using her wand to poke the large cat. It whips its head around and slashes at her.
“What the hell!” She scoots back, barely avoiding its claws. “Why is it so violent?”
“Well don’t poke at it, obviously.” You both watch as it continues to scratch at the door. A few moments later, the door swings open.
Kyulkyung, your best friend since your first year at Hogwarts, screams, tripping over the orange blur as the cat streaks out of the room. She places a hand over her heart, her large brown eyes wide.
“What in Merlin’s beard,” she gasps, “just happened?”
“Some cat keeps getting into the Ravenclaw common room and into our dorms,” you say, standing up from where you were crouching and patting down your robes.
“I’m seriously wondering how it gets in here, like you need to know the answer to the riddle,” adds Heeyeon. Kyulkyung’s eyebrows furrow.
“That cat seems awfully familiar,” she muses. “I feel like I’ve seen it around the corridors near Slytherin.”
Heeyeon wrinkles her nose. Back then, Slytherin and Gryffindor were mortal enemies. But now, it was your house, Ravenclaw, that absolutely despised Slytherin. Both houses were full of intelligent and clever students, causing a lot of competition. At first, it was just house points and academics, but soon it escalated to even Quidditch.
“That’s it!” Kyulkyung suddenly snaps her fingers, a triumphant look on her face. “I know whose cat that is.”
“Who?” you ask, heading back to your bed to collect your books for your next class of the day, which is Charms. Though it is Christmas break, classes still go on. They are easier though, the usual academic rigor gone since most students aren’t here. You take this chance to further your studies and learn ahead.
“The Slytherin hottie Park Jimin.”
You trip on your robes.
“Okay, so, how am I supposed to tell him?” Charms had just ended, and you, Kyulkyung, and Heeyeon are now entering the Dining Hall. All three of you eye the Slytherin table, eyes trained on where a certain boy is sitting with a few of his friends. You are surprised he didn’t leave for Christmas break.
“Just walk up to him and be like ‘hi, we don’t know each other, but your cat is in love with my toad, and I’d appreciate if you didn’t let it get into the Ravenclaw dorms again’ and then leave,” suggests Heeyeon, sliding into her seat at the Ravenclaw table. You nod hello to a few of your fellow housemates before sliding across from her, Kyulkyung next to you. All three of you dig into the delicious meals in front of you. There are cakes of all different kinds, mashed potatoes and gravy, cranberry glazed ham, lasagna, and many other dishes.
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious,” mumbles Kyulkyung through a mouthful of food. Heeyeon blinks at her. “I am rather offended. I am being perfectly serious.”
“Blimey, the food is amazing, every meal is like my mum’s,” you say, groaning at the taste of the cranberry glazed ham. The sweetness melts slowly on your taste buds.
“But anyways,” you continue. “Are you sure it’s his cat? I don’t want to talk to him for no reason.”
“Yes, I’m absolutely certain,” sighs Kyulkyung, rolling her eyes. She stabs her fork into her carrots. “This is like the tenth time you asked me. Just trust me, will you?”
Heeyeon snorts. “Last time we did, we got caught snooping around in the Restricted Area and had to be personal slaves for Filch.”
“Okay, now that wasn’t my fault, Namjoon told me the books would be there!” Kyulkyung protests, crossing her arms.
“Please,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “We all know Namjoon is unreliable.”
“Either way,” Kyulkyung says, sniffing. “Just do it. I dare you, I’ll give you five galleons.”
You sit up immediately, leaning on your elbow and looking at Kyulkyung meaningfully. She rolls her eyes.
“Okay, fine, ten galleons.”
“Now we’re talking,” you say triumphantly, before standing up and brushing your black and blue robes. Heeyeon gapes at you. “You’re actually doing it?”
You shrug. “Why not?”
Kyulkyung snickers. “This is going to be amazing. Imagine the Ravenclaw brains going to talk to the Slytherin playboy. Legendary.”
You huff, before spinning around and marching towards the Slytherin table. You end up stopping behind Jimin, crossing your arms. No one notices you, all of them too busy talking and laughing. Finally you clear your throat and tap Jimin on the shoulders. He coolly turns around, and all his friends focus their attention on you.
He blinks at you, a lost look on his face when he takes in your Ravenclaw robes. “Yes?”
“Okay so-” you begin, only to get cut off.
“Look, um, I’m sorry I don’t remember your name, but if you’re asking me to give you another try, I’m not interested. Last night was fine, but I’m not looking for anything further than that.”
You blink at him, cheeks slowly heating up when you realize what exactly he’s talking about. Despicable Slytherins.
“God, you’re so arrogant!” You fume, face red and voice high with frustration. “Do you have that bad of self control? Why must you try to get in bed with every single girl here? Think with your brain for once instead of other body parts, will you?And to think you think I want to do- do that with you? Who do you think I am? I know my self worth, and I certainly am not low enough to stoop to your level.”
While you are speaking, Jimin frowns to his friends. “What is she talking about?”
“Jimin,” his friend Yoongi calmly deadpans. “She’s not Jihyo.”
Jimin’s blood runs cold. “What?”
“Jimin, you just ticked off and insulted one of the smartest sixth year Ravenclaws.”
Jimin curses softly.
“Wait, wait,” he interrupts your angry speech. You cross your arms, glaring at him. “I’m really sorry,” he says, having the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “I thought you were someone else.”
“Well obviously,” you comment. “Anyways, what I was trying to say is that I think your cat is in love with my - well no, not my toad, but Jungkook’s toad, and I’d appreciate if you’d keep a better eye on it because it keeps sneaking into the Ravenclaw common room.”
Everyone stares at you.
“That’s it?” Jimin’s normal, slightly cocky persona is back as he finally focuses on you. You’re surprisingly not bad looking at all, and if you weren’t a Ravenclaw, Jimin would have categorized you as pretty, but his Slytherin pride refuses to acknowledge any good part of a Ravenclaw. He finds the annoyed look you are wearing sort of cute though, but then he shakes the thought away.
You sigh loudly, slightly exaggerating it. You shake your head while waving them off, before turning around and marching away from the table.
“Hm,” Jimin muses. “Interesting.”
Yoongi sighs. “What a bother.”
“How was it?” Kyulkyung calls out as you near their table.
“Uh, I don’t think it went very well,” Heeyeon whispers when she sees your dark thunderous look.
You pick up the nearest fork and aim it at Kyulkyung, who barely dodges it.
“Ah,” she says, scratching her head. “Was he too arrogant for you?”
You give a little scream, marching away.
“Well,” Heeyeon says, shrugging, “I guess that’s a yes.”
Kyulkyung nudges her, pouting. “I’m going to have to owe her twenty galleons now.”
You really, really hoped that was the last time you would ever speak to Park Jimin. Kyulkyung and Heeyeon found it absolutely hilarious when you told him later that night.
Obviously, you were hoping for too much, when you realize that he’s been in almost every single one of your classes since the beginning of the year and that you’ve just never noticed. And vice versa, because now Jimin knows you, and he’s not about to let you go that easily, not when you’re an easy Ravenclaw target to irritate. He found your reactions entertaining and a breath of fresh air, because until you, no girl had behaved that way towards him.
And because of him, you were now the new hot topic of the school. It wasn’t entirely negative; new people who you found were pleasant became your friends. But that also meant that some girls were jealous of you, and all of Jimin’s friends knew you. You nearly trip down the stairs the first time Jimin says your name because how in the world did he find out?
“Y/N!” You hear your name as you exit your Charms class. It has been a week since break had ended, and now all the students are back. You are walking with Jungkook and Kyulkyung when you hear the annoyingly smooth and familiar voice.
“Merlin’s beard, please not today,” you mutter, slightly defeated. Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Is that Park that I hear calling your name?”
Kyulkyung snickers behind her hand, and you throw her a glare. “Yes,” you mumble, rubbing the area between your eyes. You really are not in the mood.
“Wow, what did you do to get on his radar?” Jungkook asks. You just shake your head. “Don’t even ask.”
“Hey, Y/N!” Footsteps near you, and you panic.
“Nope,” you say loudly. “Nope nope nope.”
“Stop running away from me, Y/N.” A hand lands on your arm, and you quickly jerk your arm away. Kyulkyung is giggling, and quickly drags Jungkook away. Jungkook at least has the decency to throw an apologetic look.
“What do you need?” You spin around. You are already getting ticked off.
“I have a proposal,” he begins, swiping a hand through his hair. Warning bells go off in your head. After all, your mother has taught you to never make deals with the devil.
“Nope,” you say, shaking your head.
“Y/N, please, I’m serious,” Jimin says, sighing. He looks a bit annoyed. You’re offended, because he has no right to be annoyed at you when he has been the one doing the annoying.
“No,” you say loudly again. You then turn on your heel and then bolt off.
“Not today, Satan!”
Jimin ends up cornering you right before dinner.
“Just listen to me!” He has an iron grip on both of your wrists so your hands can’t go to your wand. “I promise it’s nothing bad.”
You look at him suspiciously.
“What do you want?”
He let’s go of you slowly, seeing that you aren’t struggling anymore. You finally take a good look at him. He’s slightly sweaty, hair wild and sweat on his neck. His green Slytherin robes are wrapped loosely around him. You guess Quidditch practice just ended.
“Like what you see?” He smirks. You send him a look, and he bites his lips.
“Sorry. I’m kidding.”
You tap your foot. “Jimin, stop wasting my time. Just tell me what you need,” you say.
“Well,” he says, hesitantly. “I want to be friends.”
You’re not sure if you’re hearing right.
“I’m being serious.”
“But you’re a Slytherin,” you state blankly.
“Yeah, well, whatever, screw the House competitions,” Jimin shrugs. “It’s just I’ve been thinking, and I think you’re actually pretty cool. Um, no girl has ever acted the way you have, so, uh, yeah.”
You’re silent for a moment. You debate on just leaving, but when you take a closer look at Jimin’s face, you realize he’s sincere.
“Okay,” you agree. His head snaps up, surprised.
“I said okay,” you repeat. “We can be friends.”
“Wait, really?” Jimin’s whole face brightens. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to be so friendly yet. You’re still annoying.”
Jimin flashes you a bright smile that leaves you a bit stunned, and taps you on the head. “Thanks Y/N!”
And then he races off, leaving you standing in front of the Dining Hall in confusion.
“PARK JIMIN.” Three days later, your voice booms around the room as you fling open the doors to Study Hall. Everyone looks up, eyes wide. There is a dark thunderous about you as you stride in, books in one arm and wand in the other hand.
Professor McGonagall shoots you an unsatisfied look.
You head straight for the back of the room, where your target is sitting with Yoongi, Jungkook, and Kyulkyung.
Jimin looks up calmly as you approach. “Hey, Y/N.”
“Don’t ‘hey’ me,” you snap, throwing down your books. “Seriously, I have to tutor you in Astronomy?”
He shrugs. “You’re like the smartest person I know. And we agreed to be friends, no? Friends help each other.”
“When was this?” Jungkook whispers, eyes as wide as saucers. Yoongi just grunts, flipping to the next page of his DADA textbook.
“I know, and surprisingly you’re tolerable. But I never agreed to tutor you. How can you just tell the professor that I would?”
“Hey, the first person I thought of at the top of my head was you, okay? I need to pass the N.E.W.T.S. Plus, you’ll get some extra credit and a House bonus.”
You groan, sliding into your seat. “But now I have to take time out of my schedule to tutor you.”
Jimin glares at you. “You’re lucky to tutor me. Every girl would kill for the chance to spend extra time with me. I’m good-looking and not stupid.””
You prop your chin up, wrinkling your nose. “Yes, but you’re also a bit of a narcissist and jerk.”
“Y/N, it won’t be that bad,” Kyulkyung says. You look at her, betrayed. She shrugs. “I’m just saying.”
You sigh. “Well, what’s done is done.” You turn your attention back to Jimin, meeting his unreadable gaze.
“Fine,” you say. “I’ll tutor you. Every Saturday, starting nine in the morning and ending at eleven at the library. Don’t be late.” Or else.
Jimin opens his mouth, about to protest, but one look from you shuts him up.
“Okay, okay,” he yelps. “I’ll be there.”
It’s Saturday morning, and Jimin is very, very late.
You aren’t surprised.
But that doesn’t mean you aren’t pissed beyond belief.
You sit in the back of the library, arms crossed. Books are laid out across the table, along with former test papers. Even though you weren’t exactly thrilled to tutor Jimin, you still had to uphold your responsibility. You couldn’t change anything, so why not just do your best to prepare him?
But he’s almost ninety minutes late, and you are reaching the very last straw.
Fifteen minutes later, you finally get up. You don’t even know exactly how to feel. The fact that he wasted ninety minutes of your precious Saturday mornings was unacceptable.
You flick your wand, organizing your books back and papers back into a pile and storing them in your bag. Then you head out the library.
You’re not sure if you can get any angrier when you ears catch wind of something.
“Did you hear?” A fourth year you recognize passes by, whispering to her friend. “Jimin, that super hot sixth year in Slytherin is back together again with Jihyo.”
“No way,” her friend whispers back. “I thought he was chasing Y/N.”
“Well, I don’t know, but I heard some people from Slytherin talking about it. Apparently they, uh, slept together.”
You hearing roaring in your ears, and all you can focus on is the rage you feel within yourself. The underclassmen notice you glaring at them and they shrink, quickly whispering and scurrying away.
You toss your hair over your shoulder and stalk back to the Ravenclaw common room.
“Y/N, just talk to him.”
Jungkook frowns at you as you ignore him, continuing to quietly eat your breakfast. It has been two days since the incident Jimin. You’ve successfully given him the cold shoulder, and you scoff at the fact that Jimin doesn’t even know what he did wrong.
“Y/N,” he says, shaking your arm. You place your fork down quietly.
“Why do I have to talk to him? He should be the one apologizing, but he doesn’t even know what he did wrong because all that goes through his dense head is what under a girl’s clothes!” you snap. Both you and Jungkook glance past your fellow housemates to look at the Slytherin table.
Jimin looks up with a smile on his face, just in time to meet your eyes. A pretty girl with long dark hair and wide brown eyes is sitting next to him, stroking his cheek and murmuring sweet things into his ear. You assume it’s the girl Jihyo. His smile fades when he sees your stormy glare. If looks could kill, he would be long dead.
You stand up resolutely, appetite lost. “I’m gonna go,” you say simply to Jungkook, before collecting your robes and fleeing the Dining Hall.
You stare skeptically at the boy in front of you. Unlike usual, Jimin is hunched over, tugging at the sleeves of his robes. The usual arrogance and confidence is gone, only guilt showing.
He had tracked you down at one of the towers, and wind gusts around both of you.
“Funny how it takes you almost a whole week and one failed test to remind you what exactly you did wrong,” you comment. “If Professor didn’t give that pop quiz, you would continue being this clueless, huh?”
“I really forgot,” he said softly. “Really.”
“Stop lying, Jimin!” You throw your arms out in frustration. “Don’t think I haven’t heard the rumors. I’m sure you had a wonderful sleep last Friday. I bet you slept so well that you forgot that I was going to tutor you last Friday.”
It takes Jimin a couple moments to understand what you mean. His expression closes down.
“Really, you actually listen to the rumors? I know it’s my fault, but don’t go around assuming things when you haven’t even heard the truth from me.” His tone is unusually angry, barely controlled.
You wave dismissively. “Well, what am I supposed to think when you don’t even try to tell me? You didn’t even know why I was made at you.”
Jimin breathes deeply, letting out a tightly held breath. He seems to be trying to control his emotions. “Look,” he says, his voice soft again. It’s smooth and soothing, but you shake the thought away. “I’m sorry, alright? I’ll make it up to you. I’ll treat you to like, Hogsmeade or something.”
“There’s no need,” you respond. “Just find a new tutor, Jimin.”
Then you leave before he can say anything.
You still go to the library that Saturday.
And like before, he isn’t there when you arrive. Yet you wait, because you decide that even though Jimin irks you, he deserves a chance.
Thirty minutes pass with no sign of Jimin, so you sigh and can’t help feel disappointed.
You turn around, only to crash into a warm body.
“Oof,” leaves your lips, and you stumble backwards onto the ground. A pair of shoes enters your line of vision, and a hand extends towards you. You tilt your head up, and your mouth widens.
Jimin stares back at you, dressed in a casual hoodie and dark jeans. A small smile is on his face.
“So,” you say, “you didn’t forget.”
“And you didn’t quit being my tutor.”
“Well then, let’s get into the studying.”
You find Jimin isn’t dumb at all, in fact, he’s much brighter than you expected. But you don’t know why you’re so surprised, because Jimin is a Slytherin: ambitious, clever, and resourceful.
He catches onto your studying techniques quickly, and you find the mood actually quite enjoyable.
Weeks pass by, and every Saturday, you meet Jimin at the library. He’s never late anymore, always there sitting when you arrive, a gentle smile graced on his face. Soon, two hours becomes three.
You find the previous first impressions of him slowly melting away and disappearing. The prejudice you had against him before now feels childish, because Jimin is nothing like the rumors.
Yes, he still has an ego, and still can be narcissistic and flirty, but you slowly peel away the persona he has created to discover the real Park Jimin.
Jimin is kind, soft, and gentle. You learn how protective he is over his younger brother. How he’s only dated so many girls because he felt too bad to reject them, trying to give them a chance that maybe things would work out. You learn that he doesn’t heartlessly break hearts, and tries to do so as softly as possible.
You learn that Jimin also makes mistakes, like the one time he slept with the girl, Jihyo, in a burst of moment that was too rushed for him to actually think. That was what started the following rumors. You tell him you are sorry for assuming things, but he only smiles, and his eyes crinkle up into crescents.
Jimin is also ambitious and passionate. You see this side of him when you are observing him out of the corner of your eye, when you see how focused he is, because he really wants to do well. You see this during Quidditch games, the anticipation straining in his body, the need to win.
What you don’t know however, is that Jimin is observing you too. He notices your little habits, the light tapping of your pencil when you’re restless, the way your eyelids flutter when you’re tired. He notices when you think you’re sneaky and take little peeks at him. He tries hard not to chuckle.
Soon, the lines between the both of you are blurred, when each session leads to more intimacy; the way your shoulders lightly touch, the way your bodies always gravitate towards the other’s presence, the light brushes of fingers when you’re walking in the corridors for your next class.
You’re playing dangerous games, and all it comes down to is who falls first.
“You’re so stupid.”
Jungkook grunts as you scold him. He leans on you for support, hobbling on his left leg.
“How can you fall off a broom? You’re a seasoned Quidditch player Jungkook.”
“Just stop talking,” he mutters, “and take me to Madame Pomfrey.”
You snicker, guiding him forward, when you hear voices ahead.
“Jimin, I like you.”
You tense slightly, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook, who looks at you curiously. You continue walking, turning the corner, only to back up quickly.
“What the- what the heck, Y/N?” Jungkook curses softly when you almost step on his foot. He looks up to see you peeking slightly around the corner, and tip toes to see what you are looking at.
Jihyo is standing in front of Jimin, who has his hands shoved in his pant pockets.
“Jihyo, look, that one time was a mistake,” Jimin says, shaking his head.
“But I actually have feelings for you,” Jihyo begs quietly. Jimin is silent, staring at the ground.
Then Jihyo steps forward, wraps her arms around Jimin’s neck, and kisses him.
You make a noise at the back of your throat, right when Jimin shoves Jihyo back. He notices you and Junkook.
“Y/N,” he says. “It’s- it’s not what -”
“Let’s go, Jungkook,” you say tightly, stepping forward. Your grip on Jungkook’s arm tightens as you near Jimin and Jihyo. Tension is thick in the air. As you walk by, your eyes lock onto Jimin’s. They flicker with unreadable emotion. Something twists in your heart, and you quickly look away.
When you are well past Jimin, your steps fast, as if you are trying to flee, Jungkook breaks the silence.
“Y/N, you like him.”
You don’t say anything back.
Two weeks go by without talking to Jimin. You don’t go to the library anymore.
Your feelings and thoughts quickly get buried down though when the teachers start increasing the workload in preparation for midterms. In a way, you are glad for something to do. Kyulkyung, Jungkook, and Heeyeon don’t prod you anymore about Jimin after you blow up at them one night in the common room.
“It’s always Jimin this Jimin that!” you had yelled, slamming down your books. “Just shut up about him, my life doesn’t revolve around a single boy.”
Jimin also seems to get the memo that you don’t want to talk to him, because he doesn’t try to approach you. You avoid going to the Dining Hall in risks of running into him. You pass him by in the hallways sometimes, and occasionally Jihyo is with him. You avoid his eyes, ducking your head down. You can feel his burning gaze on your back.
It is a snowy Valentine’s Day when you receive a letter by owl. Everyone has left for Hogsmeade, either on dates or with friends. You had declined going.
You spend the day wandering the school grounds and playing with different spells. The owl comes near noon, when it drops a white envelope into the snow in front of you.
You lean over and pick it up, slowly opening it and sliding out the letter.
“Come to the Astronomy Tower” is written in a familiar scrawl you can’t quite pinpoint. You consider ignoring it, but curiosity get’s the better of you and you find yourself trekking up through the snowy steps to the top of the tower.
As soon as you reach the top, you immediately whirl around, heart pounding. You first instinct is run.
A gentle but strong grip encases your wrist.
Jimin tugs you, spinning you around so you are only centimeters away from him. Puffs of his breath rises up and mixes with yours. Snow particles dust his hair, and his cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold. You realize his grip is icy cold.
“How long have you been here?” you whisper. Jimin stares down at you, eyes roaming your face.
“Long enough,” he answers.
“What if I didn’t come?” you ask. He let’s out a loose chuckle.
“Well,” he says, voice raw, “I had to try.”
His eyes flicker down to your lips, and you lick them nervously.
“Just like how I have to try this.”
And then he swoops down and kisses you.
You don’t respond at first when you feel his cold lips on yours. But slowly you give in, and you kiss him back.
When you break apart, your lips feel slightly swollen, from him or the cold, you’re not sure. Jimin leans his forehead against yours, only breaths away from your face.
“Sorry,” he says roughly. “You can hate me now. I just- I knew I would regret it if I didn’t kiss you once in my life.”
You lean back from him, feeling cold snowflakes land on your face. “You idiot,” you say, shaking your head. “I kissed you back.”
He blinks at you. To him, you look like an absolutely angel. “Wait. So. Do you like me?”
“For someone as smart as you, you sure are dumb when it comes to feelings.”
Thanks for all your wonderful and hard work making beautiful shows that will carry on forever in our hearts! I’d like to say a few things about each of your series. I used to watch The Powerpuff Girls with my older cousin, that’s pretty much the only thing she ever did with me so it was definitely some of my best memories of her, and an overall great time! Fosters was always so beautiful and I couldn’t help watching whenever it was on. Sadly it aired at a time in my life when I wasn’t really watching tv so I haven’t seen too much of it (a terrible crime that I must fix!!). Wander Over Yonder is one of my favorite, if not absolute favorite, shows ever. I have so many good things to say, I love the art, the music, the characters, the stories, pretty much the everything! Not to mention I have so many wonderful memories watching and reciting (closest word I could think of) the show with my girlfriend. I’d love to see Wander continue, as I’m sure many of us do, but I’m happy to see anything you make next! Thank you again for your magic and best of luck with your next show! :D @crackmccraigen
Because I apparently can no longer write short pithy one-post stories, and I’m terrible at linking my posts or running a coherent masterpost, I’ve started posting the fic I’ve been tagging ‘come fly with me’ over on AO3.
I’ve re-titled it When Autumn Leaves Fall and I’ve posted up to the point where Mal and Regina meet for the second time and make a deal. I’ll be cleaning the other chapters up and posting, hopefully concurrently with Let Me Count the Ways.
I’ve never been able to write more than one fic at a time before, and although these are both DQ, they are really different in tone and setting and general mood and characterisations…so hopefully it won’t all go pear shaped by chapter 21. Wish me luck! :)
How to play: Share a photo/screenshot of the cover(s) of the book(s) you’re currently reading. Then tag 8 people and ask them to do the same!
I’m terrible at reading one book at a time - mostly because school prevents me from sitting down and chewing through a book - so here are the main ones I’m slowly getting through now.
The First Wife by: Paulina Chiziane is a book I heard about on the radio (CBC, always giving me new things to read), about a woman who discovers that her husband actually has other wives. So far it’s a really neat look at the difficulties and emotional struggles caused by sexism, especially within a relationship.
American Gods by: Neil Gaiman. This one is a re-read due to the upcoming show (which will be out in just over a month!) Not my favourite of Gaiman’s but it’s an interesting idea, suitably odd, and overall a good read.
Crime and Punishment by: Dostoevsky. Picked this up for school, but hey, good reason to check off a classic. Slow pickup, but still interesting. I’m only 100 pages in, so there’s not much more I can say about it.
All the Shah’s Men by: Stephen Kinzer. Also not that far into this one, but it goes into history that we never got in school, about how the American (& British) interests lead to their deposition of the first democratically elected Prime Minister of Iran, Mohammad Mosaddegh. Worth a read based solely on the fact that this is history that’s not told in North America.
its hard not to be mad about 3rd birthday because like…yeah metroid other m happened and killed samus’ character and while it may take a bit, a metroid game WILL happen and rectify the mistakes.
3rd birthday is definitely the last we’ll get of parasite eve and they just blew a big one. not only a terrible ending but the fanservice and destruction of ayas character leaves quite the bitter taste.
jack morrison: uses a tactical visor that gives him perfect accuracy ana amari: one of the world’s deadliest, most elite snipers, with superior marksmanship and a cybernetic eye widowmaker: a good enough marksman to defeat ana in a sniper duel jesse mccree: a deadeye with perfect aim gabriel reyes: spins around really fast firing shotguns one-handedly and tells you to fuck off
and it turns out that clint, who has been humming christmas carols for weeks now, doesnt actually know any of the real lyrics, and has just been making them up as he goes along. this is his latest masterpiece:
Winter Soldier’s Gunnin’ You Down (To the tune of Santa Claus is Coming to Town)
You better watch out, you better not
You’ll probably bleed out, I’m
tellin’ you why
Winter Soldier’s gunnin’ you
He’s got a hit list, he’s
starting a fight
He’s clenching his fist, it’s
shiny and bright
Winter Soldier’s gunnin’ you
He sees you when you’re sleeping
He knows when you’re awake
His aim is really fucking good and
he’s gonna assassinate