why would you ever agree to be a part of this

The Arkansas Sleep Experiments

by reddit user nazisharks

To Those Who Sleep

This happened a few years ago. You may have heard rumors if you’re on campus. Some even circulated online. Nobody knew what really happened. Because I’m the only one who knows and I kept quiet. For a multitude of reasons. None of them matter now. Here’s what really happened.

The four of us were handpicked for this experiment by Prof. Richardson because we’d all studied under him, worked under him, and, as much as anyone can, earned his confidence.

He said this one was different. We had to keep it quiet. He wanted to keep details to a minimum. All he would tell us before going in was that he required a month of our lives and that if he succeeded sleep would never again be a necessity.

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*pounds fist on table* ok i need to talk about the god-tier klance moments in s3e03 “the hunted” because damn there’s a couple scenes that are so powerful and important and i just….holy shit. buckle up, y’all.

this episode is fucking great for a lot of reasons, but one of my favorite parts of it is how much it shows the development of keith & lance’s relationship: especially 1) how good lance has become at grounding keith & helping him control his reckless impulses, and 2) how keith feels like he can be open and honest with lance about his fears/insecurities––which is a big fucking deal because we’ve almost never seen him do this. 

the first scene that really struck me is this part where keith is leading the team after lotor and it’s just….a big mess. he’s not thinking about keeping the team together. allura’s falling behind and he’s not paying any attention. he’s not considering that this might be a trap. all he can think about is diving in headfirst without considering the consequences.

and then this happens:

uhhhh….oh my god??

look, we know how keith gets. we know how hot-headed and stubborn he can be. i mean listen, we’re talking about this kid who literally tried to fight zarkon by himself.

and yet…..even in the middle of this intense chase, lance gets through to him. he brings keith down from that battle-rage and makes him see reason. and he does it in a way that’s straightforward and brutally honest (“you’re endangering the team and you can’t do this”) which i think is exactly why it works. that’s the kind of direction keith needs, and tbh out of everyone on the team it makes the most sense that it comes from lance.

i’m just

me: hey can i get a fucking uhhhhh lance being keith’s impulse control
dreamworks: *gives me this*
me: *kicking down the door* HOLY FUCK MOM

and look i was already sobbing over this one small part but then we get THIS….THIS SCENE….

oh boy oh wow where do i stART?!

god damn this scene is beautiful––visually, thematically, it’s just …. so powerful and significant.

first of all i need to freak out a little over the way the scene is set up and how wonderful the symbolism is. 

it starts with keith literally in the shadows, and then slowly emerging and drifting up towards lance with their lions facing each other. lance & red are above keith & black which is really interesting.

as we all know, keith is the leader right now. and yet, both literally and figuratively, he’s not positioning himself higher than lance––in fact, he’s doing the very opposite. and his lion doesn’t have her head lowered in shame either; the lions are directly looking each other in the eyes (which i feel like is pretty damn rare??) and that’s very meaningful. everything about the visual setup of the scene just screams openness, honesty, vulnerability. 

(side note: also wow @ that red and blue background, amiright)

and then we have everything that keith says. and boy….there’s so much to unpack here:

- he admits it was his fault and he led everyone into a trap
- he also admits that everyone warned him (lance warned him) and he wasn’t listening
- and because of that he put everyone else in danger

and man i gotta give huge props to steven yeun here because his voice acting in this scene….jeez it broke my heart. keith says all this so quietly, his voice is literally shaking. shit, he sounds close to tears. this is possibly the closest we’ve ever seen keith to totally breaking down and it’s just…..it hurts so much and it’s so important.

it really hits you in this moment that keith is a kid. he’s 16 years old!! he didn’t want to lead the team & he doesn’t know how to do it. he can’t do it by himself. he doesn’t say any of that explicitly here but it’s 100% clear that that’s exactly what he’s saying.

and he says this to lance of all people. lance, his supposed “rival”! you would think lance would be the last person he’d want to turn to for reassurance or to blatantly admit “wow i fucked up real bad.” and yet….here we are. it’s moments like these that really prove that under the surface, these two don’t hate each other in the least. they like each other. they respect each other. they rely on each other!! (*whispers* space ranger partners….) 

and lance’s response only proves my point even more. he could easily have said “i told you so” or otherwise berated keith for his mistake. but he doesn’t! his answer is:

- yes, you messed up.
- but we’re going to fix it. we. i can’t stress that enough! he doesn’t say “you messed up and now you have to do something about it.” he doesn’t say “you messed up and now i’m going to take over and do something about it.” he’s essentially saying “yeah you made a mistake but that’s in the past….and now we’re going to take care of it together.” 

and that’s?? so great?? because keith more or less admitted that he was feeling this huge burden weigh down on him, and lance––in his own subtle way––lifted that weight off keith’s shoulders. he’s reassuring keith that he’s not alone in this. *wipes tears from my eyes*

and if all that wasn’t enough, keith immediately saying “you’re right” makes it all the more significant. he’s openly admitting once again that he fucked up, but he’s also agreeing with lance’s statement that they can still turn things around and fix his mistake as a team. which is…..wow. 

tl;dr - everything about this pair of scenes just proves how keith & lance work so well together and need each other. it shows how important it is for them to be open and honest with each other, and demonstrates how they both have that capability. 

and i’m gonna scream about it for a hundred years. 

Joseph Christiansen Secret/Cult Ending Manuscript

I went digging through the Level 18 gibberish and sorted out all the dialogue into a manageable manuscript if anyone is interested in reading this secret wild ride. None of the dialogue is labeled so I did my best to interpret who was saying what so any mistakes are my bad. It took a few hours to put together but I felt like some people would like more than just a summary so here is the full text:

MC will be short for Main Character or your player.

** edit 07/26/17: minor text fixes, better formatting, the insertion of more images (courtesy of purpledragon42) , and insert of a working readmore **

Level 18- Joseph Bad Ending or True Ending ( Who knows? )

This appears to take place after MC and Joseph Christiansen engage in sex in the yacht, except you don’t wake up to what you expect. This takes place in Cult_Dungeon1.

(Photo Credits: Game Grumps)

START: You’re A Monster

MC:

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn. What time is it? Must have been asleep for ages. I wonder what will happen now that Mary is gone? What about Joseph’s kids? And how will Amanda feel about all this? That’s what matters… . Well, we all have each other. I guess time will tell, right? Better get up and greet the day.

Am I tied up?! What the hell?! How did I get here? What’s going on?! Joseph? Anybody?

You’re probably just dreaming. Why would there be a… Don’t panic… . a dungeon. An evil dungeon. Why would there be an evil dungeon here? This can’t be real. Maybe I had too much Twilight Rouge. I’m dreaming, or something.

???:

Oh, I guarantee this is real.

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What is a story you have been dying to tell?

When I was 15 years old, I ran away from home because I was pissed off at my parents for a reason I cant remember. I didnt have much money, so I decided to hop onto the skytrain(public transport train in British Columbia) and ride it as far as it would go. I reached the end of the line in less then an hour, and decided I wanted to ride it all the way back again, while trying to formulate some kind of plan of how I wanted to live the rest of my life without my parents or anyone. At the last stop, or the first stop depending on your perspective of it, a girl came on and sat in the row right behind me. I didnt pay much attention to her at first, as I was busy writing my life plan on a napkin. It was a few minutes later that she got up and came sat next to me, curious as to what I was writing. I told her the story, and after a few laughs, we began talking about everything and anything. Her name was Amanda, 17 years old, and absolutely wonderful. She told me she was getting off at the last stop, which was also the first stop, depending on how you look at it. It was also the stop I had gotten on originally, and I told her we would ride to it together. The train ride took less then an hour, and what a wonderful hour indeed.

When the last stop did come, we both knew we probably wouldnt see each other ever again(this was before the days of cellphones, and I was a shy little kid afraid to make moves). As we got to the end of the sidewalk which split in two different directions, she went right and I went left. Before saying goodbye she turned to me and asked me a question that has become a wonderful part of my life; she asked me, “Tell me something you have done, or want to do, that you think I should do? It can be anything, as challenging as you want it to be, or as easy. As long as you give me the rest of my life to complete it, I promise I will do it..” I was confused as to why, but I thought about it, and told her, “Sing a song acapella in a room full of strangers.” She said perfect and asked me if I would like a challenge as well. I told her I did, and she told me, “read, from start to finish, “Ulysses” by James Joyce.” I had never heard of it at the time, but I agreed, and we said our goodbyes.

I have a awful memory, and cant remember most conversations I have with most people. But I remember all of that clearly. You know why? Because of the challenge she gave me. In the 12 years that have past since, I have tried to read that book in over 150 different sittings. Everytime I open my copy of the 780 page monster of a book, I always think of her, and I always think of that day. Ive never been sure if it was her intent or not, but she left her lasting memory on me with that challenge. I soon after learned what she did, was a completey wonderful and amazing thing for me. So I decided to keep it going. Ive met a lot of strangers in my life; some that have become friends, and some, due to living in different time zones and whatnot, didnt. I dont want to just have experiences and then let them go. I want to remember these meetings, and embrace the fact that they happened. So whenever I leave someone who has left an amazing impact of my life, I always make sure to add them to my Ulysses Bucket List. I ask them to give me a challenge, as difficult or as easy as they want it to be, and regardless of the fact that they have done it or not; simply something their heart has had wanted to do.

Some have been easy and fun; I met a man in India 9 years ago who told me to, for a week or a month, cook/buy twice as much food as I intend on eating, and give the other half to a stranger in need. I completed that mission 8 years ago, and thought about that man and the time we had all the way through. I met a girl on a cruise 6 years ago, who told me to jump into a body of water on a slightly cold day, without touching or feeling the temperature of the water first. I did that the very same year. I met a couple at an outdoor music festival a few years ago that told me to wear the most bizarre outfit imaginable and walk through a public place, completely oblivious to the fact that you arent looking normal. I did that task the very next day, at the same festival. Some have been difficult, to say the least: three guys I met in Amsterdam and smoked all night with, told me to go to a mall and give 10 strangers 10 presents. That one took a lot of courage, but I did it a year or so after I met them. It was nerve racking, but at the same time exhilerating leaving my comfort zone. A girl I met on a plane told me to sky dive; Im still in the process of getting that done. A couple I met in Cali on the beach told me to tell the 5 people I hated the most, that I love them and respect them. That one was very difficult because of my stubborness, but ive come close to completing that list many a times(still in the process, 2 more people to go).

And some things, have had an everlasting impact on my daily life. I met a girl at a music festival, who told me that whenever I get mad at someone, walk away, sing my happy song in my head for 5 minutes, go back to the person im mad at with a clam heart and mind, and work things out. Ive made this my way of life. I once met a man at a gym in a hotel I was staying at, that told me “whenever your body and brain tells your that you are exhausted and done…use your heart instead and push out 2 more reps.” Ive made this my motto when working out or working on any kind of extrenuating exercise in which my body demands me to quit. I also use it while working on anything, and while studying. One of the best pieces of advice ive ever received.

There are many others that each brought joy to my life. There are still many tasks I have yet to accomplish, and everytime I think of these tasks, I think of the people that gave them to me. It amazes me how well I remember all these people, while I cant remember so many aspects of even yesterday. These experiences, not only do I take from them a “mission” or a “challenge”, I also take from them a memory of them that never fails to appear inside of my mind. I opened my Ulysses book for probably the 300th time yesterday, and read a few pages, which prompted me to share this story with you today. Im in the final 30 pages of the book, also known as the most dreaded of the read(in the last 40 pages or so, James Joyce doesnt use a single punctuation mark; no periods, no commas, no nothing; a straight 50 page run-on sentence).

I never saw Amanda after that day, nor do I know if she ever did get a chance to sing a song to a room full of strangers. But what I do know, is that she gave me a gift that has never once stopped giving. So wherever you may be, thank you for giving me the Ulysses Bucket List. And I swear i’ll finish it one day. My life advice? Simple: Create your own Ulysses bucket list.

post-emoji movie Trauma

WARNING: the following text contains spoilers and can be considered disturbing to some readers. especially my brain, because it’s leaking out my ears after typing this.

This is the first movie ever I’ve gone to see on opening night. And let me just say that, for the record, I’m glad I went to watch with friends. Without them, I would have most likely calmly exited the room, climbed up to the roof, and dived straight off.

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anonymous asked:

What do you think Shiro's backstory is? Do you think he has family back on earth, or is Keith all he has?

At this point, I’m pretty sure Shiro is estranged from his family. If he were just an orphan, then I think his official character bio would have said so–like it did for Keith. So I think there must’ve been a family at some point, but they seem to be out of the picture. There’s also a few things that I think indicates Shiro may have lost his dad. 

And we see this reflected in Sam. In a way, I think he definitely reminds Shiro of his father, or at least ended up being a kind of fatherly figure. When Shiro rescues Matt from the gladiator arena, the last thing he says is, “Take care of your father.” This message sounds deeply personal, like there’s a history there and maybe Shiro was unable to save his own dad at some point. 

This is taken a step further when Shiro decides they can’t afford to waste time looking for Sam and Matt. He’s only convinced when Pidge mentions they’re family, and Shiro just stops and says, “Commander Holt is your father?” before immediately agreeing. So as much as Shiro cares about Sam, he wasn’t willing to risk the mission until he found out that Pidge was trying to save her dad. I really do think that must’ve resonated with Shiro on some level, like he’s been in that position before 

Also, something about this last shot–look at Keith’s face here. He also looks visibly affected. And I mean, we know Keith would give just about anything to be able to find his dad, so I think Shiro also having some kind of troubled past involving his father is very likely. Shiro and Keith are present for this scene instead of Lance and Hunk for a reason. 

Of course, it could also be that maybe something happened and Shiro ended up parting with his dad on bad terms, and it’s something he really regrets. After all, when calming down Pidge, he tells her something her father said instead of giving advice from his own dad. I think that says Shiro was never really all that close with his own father or maybe he just grew up without one. 

And honestly the first red flag for me was how Shiro reacted to being held prisoner for a year. The Kerberos crew was announced dead, and any family he had would’ve been told that. They must’ve mourned him, held a funeral for him. His picture was all over the news alongside the headline Pilot error

And yet?? Shiro never expresses any desire to see his family again or return to Earth like the other paladins–despite the fact that he’s been gone the longest. On top of that, he never even once asks anyone for news on his family–you’d think he’d talk to Keith or Pidge at least. What person is declared dead for a year and then doesn’t think about how their loved ones must feel? Doesn’t want to go home to them and tell them not to worry, that they’re okay. 

Shiro’s behavior is bizarrely abnormal, there’s just no way to account for that kind of response unless Shiro was either already distant from his family or absolutely dreading going home–and this is also very possible, as Shiro’s changed, he’s not the person he was before. He has his trauma, his PTSD–he believes the galra have turned him into a monster. He has to go home and try to explain why he was gone so long and lost his crew and has only one arm and his hair’s gone white. So maybe Shiro’s just terrified because all sense of normalcy would be gone and there’s no sense trying to return to it. Shiro’s not like Lance, Hunk, or Pidge–he can’t just go back. But as understandable as that would be, I more so think that Shiro doesn’t have very much to return to in the first place.

So far, the closest thing Shiro really has to a home is Keith. When he crashes back to Earth, he never asks about his family or tries to at least visit his house before he leaves. But I think it says a lot that Shiro does end up back at Keith’s home. And Keith is the one who offered him his little shack as shelter, has a warm heart-to-heart where he welcomes him back. This is Shiro’s homecoming. And given that the shack has always been a symbol of home for Keith, we can infer that Shiro will always have a place there as well. 

I think it’s very telling that there’s an episode where everyone but Shiro and Keith express wanting to go home or find their families–Shiro never voices an opinion on the matter. He’s completely silent and only steps in to try to calm Keith down and settle things with Pidge. But I think we get even more insight to how Shiro feels from Stayin’ Alive in season 2. Everyone’s reminiscing about their fond memories, and they all look so happy. But then there’s Shiro, with his back turned away from everyone. He looks pretty deep in thought, like something’s really bothering him 

And when he does turn back to face the group, he says this:

You realize once we defeat Zarkon, the universe won’t need Voltron anymore.” Just as a refresher here, Shiro was basically the most excited about being a paladin–“Defenders of the universe huh? That’s got a nice ring to it.” Shiro found a purpose, and he took pride in it. He felt like, even as much as the galra have tormented him and tore him apart, he finally found a place where he belonged

And that’s why so much of his fear is wrapped up in this idea that he’s not worthy of the job–“Did you ever think a monster like you could be a Voltron paladin?” Fighting the good fight and saving lives meant something to Shiro. His connection with the Black lion and having a team were both very healing for him. He doesn’t want to lose that 

And it only gets worse because everyone else automatically has something planned, they all have something in mind after Voltron. And they all want to go home or return to their families, but Shiro says nothing. Because there is no after for him, nothing back on Earth waiting for him. After Pidge says, “I could search for my family,” Keith adds, “I guess I could look for mine.” But Shiro never says anything about his plans for the future. He doesn’t have any 

And Shiro looks pretty tense this whole time. When he talks about how if everything goes according to plan this will all be over–you really get the feeling he doesn’t want it to end. Like being a paladin is this amazing dream and he just doesn’t want to wake up. 

Even when Kuron believes he’s dying, the only significant memories that resurface are all to do with Team Voltron. Nothing related to his own background or family. And the fact that Keith welcoming him back is the first thing he sees says a lot–that’s home to him 

His Mind Created the Perfect Metaphor

Dear BBC Sherlock community,

Ever since Sherlock series 4 came out, collectively we were like “what the HELL is this?!?! This doesn’t make any sense!” BUT after many months of tossing ideas around the fandom, we have made theories that could explain the weirdness, but nothing we can all agree on. Now, this meta here may be absolute garbage to you, but I believe, in my heart of hearts, I’ve solved it. Please read it in its entirety with an open mind before you reblog it just to tell me I suck.

Thanks in advance, you da best

Paige


Here’s the short version: Sherlock actually jumped at the end of The Reichenbach Fall, just as Doyle intended him to die. Gatiss and Moffat said they are correcting something in this adaptation that no one else has gotten right before. Many of us assumed the homosexual romance was the one thing they were changing, but we were punched in the face right after The Final Problem came out.  Gatiss and Moffat are changing the sacrifice. Holmes was intended to die for his friends but Doyle needed more money and rewrote the series after “The Final Problem”. That turned Holmes’ sacrifice into a cruel joke against Watson. This is what BBC Sherlock is fixing, and we’re about to see it come to fruition.

I know many theorists despise the homosexual reading of Holmes and Watson, while many people in general despise theorists on this site. That’s fine, I don’t care how people feel about gay theories and/or TJLC and its followers.  But I’m here to tell you TJLC, at its core as a concept, was right. You may hate Moffat and Gatiss, you may think Sherlock is a piece of shit show, and that’s fine, you do you. But hear this one meta out, please. I think even the hardest skeptic can at least apprectiate the thought and logic behind this.

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Everything Has Changed (Part One)

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: 2,880

A/N: The goal is to make this a mini-series. Fingers crossed that it stays that way. 

Originally posted by caps-bucky

“All clear,” you whisper. For anyone else, those words would’ve been indiscernible because of how softly they were spoken. Luckily for you, you’re not with just anyone. You’re with a super soldier equipped with enhanced hearing.

From across the empty hallway, Bucky abandons his spot behind a tall filing cabinet and runs towards you, keeping his gun up and ready to shoot at any given moment.

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The Dragon & The Wolf

Dragonpit scene - I love how Jon always wants to be on the front row when Daenerys arrives. 

When he said to everyone he already bend the knee. Danys face— she knew what that line meant. And was conflicted about how to react to this. They already know they are falling hard. At least she does and things like these doesnt make it easier. 

Ok I feel myself coming into a rant here. Its just so beautiful to me how Jon is so different for her than any other man she has ever met. I am rewatching GOT and she has never been around any man like she has been with Jon. 

He intrigues her so much and I don’t think she ever had or felt that for anyone. Her feelings for other men were always clear for her. 

She loved Drogo but it was set up and she fell for him during their relationship. But I feel like that relationship formed who she is now and she didnt really knew who she was back there. She loved -spending time with- Daario but she was always in control with him.

Jon is a completely different story for her. And Emilia plays that so well. He brings out this really special vurnable side of Daenerys we have rarely seen.

And she fell for it, and fell for it hard. 

She was so desperate to save Drogo and her decisions didn’t make any sense and I like how she was the same when she heard of Jon & co being in trouble. She didnt listen but just thought with her heart.

– k I am gonna stop here. I am not even close to Boatsex talk and I am already rambling —

“No one is less happy about this than I am” “I know” Love. Loved. LOVE this. How she just understands him. 

They are both people who ask for respect and honesty. She always asks people to follow her and wants their word and he is a man of his word so its only natural she understands it. Its like the scene he told her he was gonna go to the wall as well. She hates that he is this way but she also respects it. (and finds it extremely attractive).

Also, subtle handtouching. Like you touched last week and now you just wanna get more huh? 

THAT SCENE IN THE CORNER OF DRAGONPIT. They were like 2 schoolkids being all secretly. 

And again, I love how Jon kinda drops a cheesy line there and at any other man she’d roll her eyes but with him it just makes her heart drop.

And him trying to make a joke there. Like here they are, her dragon just died, his plan is going to hell and they share this beautiful bittersweet moment. 

Her whole speech about having to trust him sooner was so heartbreaking cause maybe then her dragon would still be alive. (I am gonna cry when she’ll see Viserion for the first time) 

Dragonstone scene - can they buy a mansion there?

THIS. THIS. Haha Jon, I am so onto you. First the cave paintings and now -Notherners like people who arrive together-trick. Yeah you just want her on that boat huh?

I felt so bad for Jorah tho’. She completely ignored his plan. And she knew she did that. At the end of the scene she leanded to the table a little like trying to hold her posture but full aware that many people, including Jorah, knows about her affection to the King of hte North. 

I find Jon much harder to read. But I think it is beautiful to see how he didnt trust her at first and really does see her for who she is. Like he told her. And how he is so amazed by her. He is so starstruck. I never really liked Jon with Yigritt she was definitely his first love but Dany is something he really pines for. Yigritt was also wrong and impossible but it happened anyway. Here he knows there is much more at stake. But he can’t deny his feelings any longer. And thats why he showed up at her door.

Now about Boatsex, I would have loved for it to go differently - well actually not different just - longer. More build up. But I understand why it went the way it went. Jon knew what he wanted and I love how they let the moment last for a bit with him standing at her door, looking in her eyes, waiting for her approval and she knew what he meant by looking in his eyes and let him in. She bend the knee. 

I was dying for a kiss here. And a little sad it didnt happen - there will be a lot of fanfic request about the missing part between the door and the bed – hint hint. 

But its like we are still gonna get our first kiss in season 8-kinda.

It was so beautifully brought yet stil hot. Jon’s ass was a nice distraction ASS-well. 

And him taking over control was so hot, not only for me but I think Daenerys agrees. Their bodies looked so beautiful together. Fire and Ice. They were so full of need and it was all lust and passionate and then my favorite part came and Jon broke the moment and we had time to realize that this isn’t just two character hooking up. No, they are in love. 

And he was so amazed by her and her beauty and how pure she looked. You can really feel he looks at Daenerys here, not with all the titles but just her and she realized this and she looks so vurnable and just so beautiful to him.

You can really see her kinda scared about what this is she’s feeling and it all just because so overwhelming for them. UGH THIS SCENE.

HOW HE STROKES HER HAIR. SO BEAUTIFUL. 

And how she hold his face. 

And then he just looks at her, when he looks at her, its like the first time I see clearly through his feelings and he just lets his guard down. He loves her. There’s no way to run from his feelings. No more excuses of -the great war is coming-. He never really let his feelings for her take over. Never fully thought with his heart and here he does and he just let it take over.

I just—-

Ps: Tyrion watching was odd but it just represented the scene Bran was talking about how their love ruined all kingdoms and how Tyrion cant feel but sad and confused about what he should do about this and if it is the right thing.

I am not sure how I will make it until 2019 to wait for more and I am so curious to see where all this will go. I am really curious how they will act after this episode and they will probably learn about Jon’s family name soon enough with only 2 episodes in and I do feel this will cause a problem for them. Jon will be all - wtf and Daenerys will be distrustfull about her claim to the throne. But I can suspect moments of Jon being all noble and telling her, by episode 5 probably, that he doesnt want the title but he does want her. Oh and she is definetely pregnant. BRING ON THE ANGST. 

Cant wait for Arya’s reaction to Dany btw. 

– Now I am off to fanfiction land – 

Thank you for an amazing 7th shipping season.

+ bonus

Gif credit 

Skyline {IV}

Originally posted by tomhollandisdaddy

Warnings: None

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 4k

A/N: Guys, from the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you all (all 900 of you [!!!!!!]) for all the kindness and support I’ve received for this story.  You guys are so great, and I love each and every one of you.  Thank you for all that you’ve done, and will hopefully continue to do, as there will be a skyline pt. 5!!!!

{part I} {part II} {part III}

Three days.  You were kept in the hospital for three days. Three days of IV’s, probing, blood pressure being taken, bad hospital beds, worse hospital food, and no access to news about whether or not Spider-Man made it out of the collapsed bank.

At first, you didn’t even remember the bank hold up.  You had woken up after passing out from a concussion and blood loss in a white hospital room, beeping all around you.  Fear had raced down your spine; was there an accident?  Why was there an IV in your arm?  What had happened?  It wasn’t until you saw the dirt covered, tear streaked face of Alex sitting in the chair next to your bed that it all came back to you.

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The Dragon and His Knight

“C’mon, Teddy, it’s time to sleep,” Harry said for about the millionth time that night.

“No! I don’t want to sleep. I want to see Draco,” Teddy responded stubbornly. The four year old crossed his arms and scowled at his godfather.

Harry sighed a long suffering sigh. “Teddy, I’m sure Draco is busy grading papers. We don’t want to interrupt him.”

“Yes we do!” Teddy said.

For the past two hours, Harry had been trying to get the little menace to go to bed, but Teddy kept insisting that he wouldn’t comply until he got to visit his cousin, Draco. Harry was reluctant to bring Teddy to Professor Malfoy’s rooming quarters for more than one reason. The first reason being that, like he said, he was sure Draco would be grading papers and would get ornery if someone interrupted his work. The second reason was that Harry had no idea where he stood with Draco after what happened yesterday. Harry hoped that he hadn’t completely ruined his and Draco’s friendship by kissing him, especially since that friendship meant so much to him.

“Please, Harry,” Teddy begged.

Harry weighed his options. On the one hand, he could refuse to bring Teddy to visit Draco, which would mean Harry would get about four hours of sleep, and probably fall asleep in the middle of a Defense Against the Dark Arts lecture tomorrow. On the other hand, if he did bring Teddy to visit Draco, he would have to see Draco, and talk to Draco, and try to hide the fact that he was incredibly, stupidly in love with Draco.

But then Teddy made the choice for Harry by screaming at the top of his lungs, “I won’t go to sleep until we see Draco!”

“Shh, Teddy,” Harry said. He hurriedly covered Teddy’s mouth with his hand. Harry was really not in the mood to get reprimanded by McGonagall for waking up the entire school. “We’ll go see Draco, okay? But we’re going to be very quiet, and we’re only going to stay for a little bit.”

“Yay!” Teddy said when Harry removed his hand. His hair changed from an angry red into a bright turquoise.

Harry led Teddy through the empty, dark halls of Hogwarts, holding him by the hand to prevent the child from sprinting ahead. When they reached the door to Draco’s room in the dungeons, Teddy said excitedly, “I’ll hide behind you, so I can surprise him!” Harry smiled at Teddy’s enthusiasm, even though he was still quite irritated with the boy.

Harry took a deep breath and then knocked on Draco’s door. He heard a muffled “fuck” on the other side of the door.

“What do you want?” Draco’s sharp voice sounded from inside.

Harry didn’t say anything, as he was afraid Draco wouldn’t open the door if he knew who it was, so he knocked again.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Draco said irritably, and the door to his quarters swung open reveal a flustered, pajama-cladden Draco. “Harry,” Draco said. He looked- and sounded -just as surprised to see Harry as Harry was to see him. Well, Harry wasn’t exactly surprised to see Draco, but he was surprised to see the state that Draco was in. His normally groomed-to-perfection blond hair was all ruffled and messed up, sticking out at awkward angles. Draco’s pajamas consisted of a white cotton t-shirt that was just tight enough to show off his lean, muscled frame, and pants with a small pattern on them that suspiciously resembled Harry’s glasses and scar. Frankly, Draco was adorable and sexy at the same time, and the sight was nearly enough to make Harry swoon.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Potter?” Draco asked, pulling Harry out of a fantasy in which he was running his fingers through Draco’s tousled hair.

“Language,” Harry replied, remembering that Teddy was also there.

“Language? Are you serious, Potter? I’ve heard you say much worse. And by the way, you didn’t answer my ques-”
Draco was cut off by Teddy abruptly jumping out from behind Harry and shouting, “Surprise!” The little boy ran towards Draco and hugged his legs. His hair was now the same platinum color of Draco’s.

“Teddy,” Draco said, shocked. He looked from Teddy to Harry, confusion in his eyes.

“Andromeda made last minute plans to go on a date and asked me to take Teddy for the night,” Harry explained, looking down at his feet to avoid eye contact. “Anyways, Teddy refused to go to bed unless he got to visit you.”

“Andromeda is dating?”

Harry laughed. That was not the question he was expecting. “I suppose so.”

“Who?” Draco asked.

“Er, I don’t know. She’s your aunt, after all. Shouldn’t you know who she’s dating?”

Draco shrugged. He smiled down at Teddy and bent down to pick him up. And, no, Harry definitely did not look at Draco’s arse when he bent down. He did not. And he certainly did not wish he could touch Draco’s arse. And when Draco lifted Teddy to rest at his hip, Harry was not admiring Draco’s arm muscles. And if he was, it was completely innocent. There was no way Harry was imagining Draco’s arms pinning Harry to a bed.

“I’m glad you came to visit me,” Draco said to Teddy with a smile.

“Me too,” Teddy said. “I wish I could live at Hogwarts and be with you and Harry all the time.”

Draco chuckled. “That would be an adventure.”

Harry was beginning to feel awkward so he said to Teddy, “Well, now that you’ve seen Draco, are you ready to go to bed?”

“No!” Teddy replied instantly, clinging to Draco. “Draco has to tell me a story first. He tells the best stories.”

Harry looked to Draco, who just grinned with a shrug. “It’s true,” Draco said. “Uh, you can come inside if you want.”

Harry’s heart immediately started being faster at the thought of being in Draco’s room. “Sure,” Harry said, careful not to sound too eager.

Draco moved to the side to let Harry in and then shut the door. Harry surveyed the room in awe. The far wall was completely made of glass, and on the other side of the glass was the green-tinted water of the Black Lake. There wasn’t much to look at, just some seaweed and and fish, but it was beautiful anyway. Teddy ran over to look out at the lake as Harry turned his attention to the furniture in the room. Draco’s bed was near the glass wall, and so were his wardrobe and trunk. More in the middle of the room was a fireplace, a sofa, and two armchairs. Harry jealously wondered who Draco invited over to sit in those armchairs. The part of the room that Harry was standing in seemed to be Draco’s personal potions lab. There was a desk covered in papers, and a long table with a cauldron and many potions ingredients on it.

“What do you think?” Draco suddenly asked. Somehow he had ended up standing right next to Harry.

Harry shivered at the close proximity and answered honestly, “It’s nice.”

Draco seemed pleased. He smiled and even blushed a little. “Thanks. Guess I should give Teddy that story now.”

Harry nodded. He watched Draco walk over to Teddy and silently admired the elegance in Draco’s movements.


Five minutes later, Harry and Draco were settled in the armchairs and Teddy was nestled between a thick layer of blankets and the soft cushions of Draco’s sofa. Draco was deep in a story about a beautiful silver dragon that was being hunted down by the people in a nearby kingdom, because the dragon was thought to be dangerous.

“The people had no way of knowing that the dragon was really a handsome prince that had been cursed to be a dragon until he met his true love,” Draco was saying. Teddy looked at his cousin with reverence, hanging onto his every word. Draco didn’t notice that Harry was doing the same. “So the king chose one of his knights, the most brave and noble one, to go find the dragon and slay it.”

Teddy gasped. “No,” he whispered.

“The knight did as he was told and left for the mountains, where the Dragon was hiding.”

“Did he kill the dragon?” Teddy asked impatiently.

“Well, when he found the dragon, it was asleep. The knight was ready to kill it, he had his sword posed to strike, but then the dragon opened its eyes. And guess what happened when the knight looked into the dragon’s eyes?”

“The dragon turned back into a prince,” Harry answered automatically.

Draco looked at Harry amusedly. “I was asking Teddy.”

“Oh, of course.”

“Anyway,” Draco continued. “The dragon was suddenly enveloped in a magical, blinding light. When the light was gone, the knight was astonished to find that there was no more dragon. Instead, there was a man. It was the prince, but he didn’t have a crown, or any fancy robes, so the knight thought he was just a commoner. Since the knight was noble, he helped the prince nonetheless and promised to take him to the kingdom. As the two traveled to the kingdom, they became very close and began to fall in love. It wasn’t until they arrived at the kingdom that the prince revealed the truth about himself and the curse that could only be broken by true love. The knight and the prince got married the next day and lived happily ever after.” Draco was whispering by the end of the story, because Teddy had begun to fall asleep.

Harry smiled at Draco. He liked the story, and he especially liked the dragon. Draco saw Harry’s smile and he returned it before getting up and gesturing for Harry to follow him. Draco led Harry to his office, which was connected to his room by a short passageway.

“Thanks for telling Teddy that story,” Harry said once the two of them had made themselves comfortable in the office- Draco in his leather chair, and Harry sitting on Draco’s desk with his legs hanging off the edge.

“No problem. I can keep him for the rest of the night if you want,” Draco offered.

“You don’t have-”

“No, it’s fine. I want to.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed.

There was a beat of silence.

“I feel li-”

“I like your pajama pants,” Harry said, cutting off Draco, because he wasn’t ready for rejection yet.

Draco’s face went pink. “They were a gift,” he disclosed.

“Right,” Harry said. He smirked and Draco’s blush increased.

“Pansy thinks she’s bloody hilarious,” Draco muttered irritably.

“Kudos to Pansy for selecting such a great gift.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

More silence.

“We need to talk,” Draco said.

Harry exhaled deeply. No more pretending then. “I know.”

“You kissed me. Why?”

Tell him it was a mistake, tell him you didn’t mean it, tell him you want to forget it ever happened, screamed a voice in Harry’s head. But Harry was tired of lying to Draco, and to himself. He summoned all of his Gryffindor courage and confessed, “Because I like you. I really, really like you, and I’ve wanted to kiss you everyday for almost a year now. And yesterday I just couldn’t stop myself. You were standing there, rambling about your new potion, and you were so excited and passionate and I felt like my heart was exploding.”

Draco stared at Harry like his whole world had been turned upside down.


The next morning…

When Andromeda came by Hogwarts to pick up her grandson and found Harry’s room empty, she knew the next logical place to look was Draco’s room. But when she arrived at Draco’s room, what happened next was not at all logical. Because little Teddy was the one to greet her at the door.

“Where are Draco and Harry, sweetheart?” she asked the small boy.

“In bed,” Teddy answered like it was obvious.

Andromeda’s heart nearly stopped. If Draco and Harry had finally gotten together, she was thrilled, but she was appalled to think that the two of them would be doing things while Teddy was in the room.

She stalked over to Draco’s bed and was relieved to find that Draco and Harry were fully clothed. Draco was leaning against the headboard as he slept, and Harry’s head rested peacefully in his lap. A book entitled The Dragon and His Knight lie on the bedside table.

“Are Draco and Harry true loves?” Teddy asked his grandmother.

Andromeda smiled. “I think so.”
“Are they gonna live happily forever after?”

“Of course they are. That’s what true loves do, isn’t it?”

Inspired by today’s eclipse and for @sterekwritingroom‘s flash event.

–––––––

The first group of weres pass through Beacon Hills on a Thursday. Stiles probably wouldn’t notice except that he’s spent the past year and a half hanging out almost exclusively with supernatural beings and that… well, ok, these guys aren’t exactly subtle. They tilt their heads almost in sync as he passes by them –– heading in to pay cash at the gas station while they pile back into their packed SUV. Noses flare, stances shift, and Stiles has about point five seconds to plan a bolt back to the Jeep before one of them’s announcing “Don’t trouble your Alpha; we’re just passing north for the event.” And then they’re back in the SUV and gone.

So… yeah, not to diminish Stiles’ awesome deductive skills here but… not subtle.

The second sighting happens before school on Friday, when Stiles ducks into the Dunkin’ Donuts for some much needed coffee and practically trips over a trio of sugar-high toddlers. One of them, wearing what looks like a home-painted t-shirt, decorated with a slightly uneven yellow circle, is midway through whining “Momma, we’re gonna miss the––“ when she stops in her tracks to stare up at him.

Stiles blinks down at her, the door perched against his elbow.

“Say ‘scuse me,” the boy next to her murmurs. It’s too early for this, brain crawling the sludge-slow of non-coffee through his system, and Stiles isn’t sure which of them he’s talking to.

“Excuse me,” he says and all three immediately shuffle, staring wide enough it makes Stiles’ eyes ache for them. He starts past, scrubbing a hand across his jaw self-consciously, wondering if he’d missed sleep drool or a sock in his hair or something on his mad rush out the door but, two steps past, the youngest kid snuffles and speaks up, soft: “Are you gonna come see the moon with us?”

It takes another step for Stiles to register that she’s talking to him, but by the time he blinks back the boy’s already tutting at her.

“No Lucy. He’ll go with his own pack.”

The little girl’s mouth opens in a wide, understanding O, while her older sister tugs proudly on her yellow circle shirt. It’s painted a messy black in the middle, inside the bright golden edge, and Stiles kind of forgets coffee for a minute in the face of actual werewolf children and then there’s a woman stepping up behind them, coffee and a box of munchkins in hand, dropping a fond hand to ruffle the boy’s hair as she gives Stiles an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that, they’ve never been through another pack’s territory before. We’ve been driving since Arizona –– long trip for the little ones. But I couldn’t miss the chance for them to experience this. Best sighting until totality in 2017!”

“I’ll be ten,” says the boy, in the tone of one who’s done the math very carefully a dozen times over.

Stiles nods, a little lost because werewolf toddlers, and manages “well that’s… good.”

“I’m two,” the youngest puts in proudly, vaguely missing the thread of the conversation but eager to take part, and Stiles smiles back, wishing he had a little more coffee in his system because it’s not like he’s oblivious about what’s going on in the world this weekend, but he’s starting to feel a little dense for not connecting all kinds of dots sooner.

Then again, there’s another person who probably could’ve connected them for him.

“They don’t know how lucky they are,” the woman adds, beaming down. “I had to wait years for my first one and I’ll never forget the experience. Of course, you won’t feel it the same way as us,” her tone going apologetic, “but I’m sure your pack can’t wait to take part.”

And then she’s ushering the kids out the door with promises of donuts in the car, and Stiles is tugging out his phone, pulling up Derek Hale’s number.

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“Talk to my son like that again, and I will end you” - Damian Wayne x Batmom

Summary : Damian is the victim of racism, Batmom steps in to kick some asses.

Just something that popped into my mind one night, after a day of heated argument defending some of my “people of color” friends, like some things get me instantly mad…so I had to write about it and hum…hope you’ll like it

My masterlist blog : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com

________________________________________________

You didn’t mean to say it on live TV like that…but…The nerves of those people ! 

It was common knowledge that you didn’t particularly held journalists in your heart. 

Some would say it was because any form of media in Gotham was OBSESSED with your family, and you hated the attention you all constantly got. 

If you cut your hair, it’d be in the paper, if your sons were spotted hanging out in town, it’d be in the paper, if you and Bruce did something, it’d be in the paper…with ridiculous titles too : “The heir of the Wayne fortune are turning into delinquents !” when all they did was skateboarding around town. “Bruce Wayne and (Y/N) Wayne about to divorce ?” just because Bruce arrived later than you at a gala…So stupid. 

Yes, some would say it was because they constantly tried to find a scandal about your family but others…like your husband, would say it was because he used to date a few of those journalists women. And yeah, it was true he did “date” some of those women but, this wasn’t why you disliked journalists. 

And Bruce knew it, he’d just tease you with it sometimes to try and relax you because some douchebag wrote lies in the papers about your family…

You knew by marrying Bruce that it would be like that, that you’d always be the center of attention and honestly, when it was just about you ? Or even Bruce ? It was alright. Both of you could handle it. 

But when it touched your children ? Oh no. No. And no. 

And so, tonight, as someone made a comment about your youngest son..you kinda lost it. And you could already see the title of every articles and such that’ll come out the next day : 

“(Y/N) Wayne loses it on live TV”

But this was too much. Your boy already struggled with this at school, he didn’t need it everywhere else…How did they even hear about it anyway ? 

Uh…Who were you kidding ? They were journalists, of course they would have heard about your little outburst at Gotham Academy…

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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.

V’s feelings

So, I just finished another Day 9 chatroom, and I really felt like I needed to pour my thoughts into this and create another analysis.


First and foremost, I would like to willingly admit my bias towards V, so that the rest of you can point out flaws in my argument if you feel I was using more emotion and less practicality. This is an open discussion where we can all come together to share our opinions, so please feel free to!!!


Now, as for V’s feelings. ..It seemed that today, I couldn’t stop thinking about what V had said regarding his love being obsession. Of course, I was incredibly pleased with Cheritz for adressing this and making sure the fans know that V’s idea of love is unhealthy and should not be romanticised!!!


But I, like many before me, assumed that he and Rika started out loving one another like any regular couple before everything descended into the seventh circle of hell. We had no reason to think otherwise.


However, the route seems to indicate that V was that infatuated with Rika from a very early stage, though the tendencies perhaps didn’t show up until later on.


I sat back for a moment and had to remember how to breathe as my brain started to peice together the implications.


V, someone most of the fandom has marvelled at for his unconditional love, doesn’t know how to love.


V doesn’t understand love as much as Rika doesn’t. The only people who truly loved him were his deceased mother and Jumin before the RFA.


It took a while for this to sink in, because before this, no one in the fandom knew how utterly and completely lost in the world V actually is.


We had assumed that everything was due to the common side effects of being a domestic abuse victim. And while partially true, we now know that V is much, MUCH more complicated.



V does not understand the world or himself. I have made SEVERAL previous points touching on the fact that V’s infatuation with Rika can’t possibly be regarded anywhere near what a mentally stable person should feel. The fact that he’s not OK and probably never was, even going as far as to theorise about his familial life.


Basically; V, head of RFA, does not know who is and what the hell he’s doing. He stumbles upon Rika, and immediately decides that his life is for her; that loving her wholly and devoting himself to her is the purpose of his entire existence.


Let me rephrase that, for those that do not understand just how intense this is: V literally thought that his purpose in life was to love Rika and give himself completely to her; to let her hurt and destroy him, to let her pick him apart and ruin him whenever it was she wishes.


This isn’t even because Rika implied something- he was always this way. And when the implications came up, he seemed absolutely unphased and accepting of it. That’s… That’s so fucking heartbreaking.


Rika fed into that part of V; she longed for someone to “save” her from the devil within, which even “God” could not save her from, in her words. This encouraged V’s unhealthy infatuation and solidified the idea that, yes; his purpose in life was to be her sun until she wished to extinguish him completely.


This went on going until Rika’s “devil” finally became suffocated by V’s “love”, and she had to flee. (Important to note that she left V because of this, but she did not start Mint Eye due to this. Mint Eye had already been in progression far before this! I’ll link to the post describing that soon.)



Now, V obviously regrets it. He goes into this state of depressing self contemplation and tells the MC that he regrets attempting to love anyone. He regrets allowing himself to share in the joy of love. I had never felt so heartbroken from a VN like this since Seven’s Route. ..


Anyway. MC goes on to say this;


In the first picture, we can see that V and Rika are similar in that way; both wished desperately to experience love, but it was a love that was false and ended in agony. V fell in love with the idea of love so pure and selfless like the sun, something he longed to experience himself- Rika fell in love with the idea of being loved and understood by someone. To me, at least, both fell in love with their wishes and ideals, and they lived that through one another.


And I think the MC is right when she says that their love was tragic. Remember, neither of them ever loved anyone else before, as far as we all know. And this first experience for them was DISASTROUS and damaging. V’s sense of self is even lesser than before



Here we see V wallowing in guilt and self hatred. He scolds himself for ever thinking that he could love someone properly. He scolds himself for ever thinking he deserves love.


He is a broken man- peices of a puzzle that refuse to fit with one another, photographs that tell a disconnected story and incomplete paintings riddled with tear drops.


For all the innocence of character Yoosung and Rika portray, according to Cheritz… V seems pretty innocent as well. He tries to build his way up- tries to fill a void in his soul and tries to save others because he’s too afraid of the idea of saving himself.


I believe Rika when she says that V’s love only made her worse because it “threathened [her] devil” , even though I firmly believe she fed into it continuously and that her actions (hurting V and starting Mint Eye, brainwashing vulnerable people into it) are her own and hers alone. However; I don’t believe her at all when she says that V only wants to sacrifice himself for the sake of nobility. I believe that she believes it, but I don’t agree with it myself.


Because here we see a V that’s so willing to figure out just why he was born in this world- a V who knows not who is nor why he is there, and who cares less about himself than Jaehee does about Elizabeth the Third. He truly wants to put an end to what he believes he started.


And I’m going to end this post on that note. I might make another couple of posts regarding Rika, Ray, and V in general because there’s a lot to sort through in this route. Thank you for reading and I hope you guys are enjoying this route as much as I do!


-Phil

JEALOUS - PETER PARKER

Originally posted by hardyness

Based off of the request: Hey! If you’re accepting requests, would you mind doing one where Peter thinks the reader is dating Ned or Flash or even MJ? I think it’d be hilarious and I haven’t read an imagine like it yet 😜

Requested by @yoyococo18

A/N: Peter thinks the reader and MJ are dating and gets a little jealous. Requests are still open!


Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What do you have against Bex? (Can u also provide evidence thanks 💜)

When I first got this ask, I was tempted to play it off as a joke and say “the fact she exists,” and leave it at that. But I feel like it’s important to stay informed. And if you genuinely don’t know, I’ll give you the complete rundown. It’s long, it’s messy, and it’s nasty, so bear with me.

First, and introduction. When I talk about Bex, I’m referring to the actress Bex Taylor-Klaus, who is the voice actor (or VA) of the character Pidge in the show Voltron Legendary Defender on Netflix.

It all began a while ago when Bex liked a comment of a picture. The picture involved a ship called Shei//th. I censored the name so it doesn’t show up in the tags of that on tumblr. But essentially it’s a ship between two characters, Takashi Shirogane, a 25 year old pilot who is the leader of the team, and Keith Kogane, one of the other “paladins” or fighters on the team. People like me find this ship to be distasteful, since Shiro is an adult, and the others are teens (it’s actually a bit messier than that, since an official Voltron source listed Keith as 18, but the producers of the show, Lauren Montgomery and Joaquim Dos Santos, said they were not consulted on the book so there’s some question as to whether it’s canon or not). Either way, the consensus by most reasonable people is that it’s probably not a healthy thing to depict in children’s media, when you consider the considerable age difference, the power imbalance (leader, senior officer with someone they are in charge of), and finally, the iconic line by the character of Keith himself when he defines their relationship as a familial one.

Nonetheless, the ship persists, as nasty things on tumblr are wont to do. There’s a lot of shipping discourse on tumblr between two distinct groups which can be labelled as “antis”–people who are not in favor of any Shiro/paladin ships, or what has become to be known as “shaladins”–people who ship any variation of Shiro with the paladins.

Here is where Bex got involved. On Instagram there was a picture of a black shoe and a red shoe together and the joke was about the shoes being a prophecy that Shei//th would be canon. A joke, mostly, considering all the evidence above. But here’s where Bex got herself in trouble. She liked a comment on the picture where someone said “Keith is a power bottom confirmed.”

Obviously, this caused a bit of an uproar within the fanbase, especially between the discourse between antis and shaladins. Shaladins were celebrating that an Official Voltron Source liked their ship, and antis were angry about that acknowledgement of the ship at all by official sources, and the sexualization of a kid’s show (more on this later.)

So of course this sparked the discourse on tumblr. One user, @lancehunks, who was receiving asks about Bex, tagged her in the replies.They were definitely unfavorable. 

and 

and a few more. 

Bex, being the big strong, adult, woman she is, decided that she could not take this obviously grievous insult to her name [sarcasm], and decided to reblog them all and respond to them. Keep in mind, that @lancehunks was just 13 years old. And Bex (22) decided that these were appropriate responses:

Yep, you read that right. Not only an adult but employed on a kid’s show! To a 13 year old! The target audience of the very show she’s a part of! (Oh, the hypocrisy). But wait, there’s more:

Just in case you’re confused, let me tell you the many, many reasons why this is unacceptable. 

  1.  Bex is an adult. You’d think she’d be a little more mature by now just in general. It’s the internet and there are trolls.
  2. The person she was addressing was 13!!!! Do I think it was mature to tag Bex in all those posts? No. But it’s… behavior that you can expect from 13 year old’s on the internet. If we swore at and tore down every single one of them every time they did something dumb, we would need a lot more therapists for teens in the world. Plus it’s really disingenuous to pretend that we wouldn’t have done something similar when we were younger if we were in that position.
  3. Bex is famous. While she’s certainly not on the caliber of massive A-List stars like Tom Holland or Zendaya, she has a fanbase that exceeds the normal person’s friend group. Just because she’s been on TV before, she has groupies that will support her no matter what, who will troll for her, who uncritically and unconditionally worship her. I’m not a Bex fan, nor do I really care to know her well enough to know just exactly how many fans she has, to be certain she does have them. When she publicly reblogged those words, that “motherfucker,” those fighting words, she weaponized her fanbase. What I mean when I say that is her behavior gave her groupies permission to behave the same way. By targeting someone who didn’t like her (a thirteen year old!!!!!), she opened the gates to her fans and groupies doing the same thing, to a kid.

This lead to some terrible things happening. The 13 year old was getting death threats, sexual violence threats, and nsfw content, all because Bex just couldn’t let it go. 

What does this mean? Finish it? Finish the kid? If you’re so sick of the fighting, then why did you even respond in the first place? Bex is the one who escalated the situation. Bex is the one who caused the fighting in the first place (by that I mean the fighting between the two that night, the fighting between antis and shaladins has been going on for as long as the show).

There we go. Now he have something resembling dignity. But unfortunately the damage was done, and user @lancehunks deleted their blog. As a direct response to Bex’s actions. Bex caused a 13 year old to leave tumblr. 

When hearing this news, Bex offered a half-assed apology:

This is the most insincere apology I have ever seen. “The internet has Bad things on it and it’s YOUR fault for seeing them” is not an apology. The best part is that she’s a big fat hypocrite. “Sometimes, when it’s harmless, the best thing I can do is shake my head and keep scrolling.” So why didn’t you Bex? Why didn’t you keep scrolling instead of targeting a 13 year old?

In light of recent political events, though there’s one thing that stands out to me: 

Sound like anybody you know? The esteemed President, perhaps?

*disclaimer* I am in no way claiming that Bex is a Trump supporter. I don’t know enough about her–and I don’t want to know enough about her–to know where she leans politically. I’m just drawing the attention to the similarities in moral equivalency going on, here.*

Sure you targeted a 13 year old and weaponized your fanbase, but someone tagging you in a snarky post is just as bad, right? (Wrong.)

You’d think that would be the end. You’d think that Bex would be capable of living and learning, or maybe even just taking her own advice, and keep scrolling. But here we go again.

The next bit of drama started when the possibly canon guide book was released, stating Keith’s age as 18. There was a big celebration on the shaladin side because technically, that would make it “legal” for Keith and Shiro to have sex. Besides the fact that legal  ≠ moral, again, Voltron is a kid’s show. But on tumblr this time, Bex posted this.

This time, the discourse surrounding Bex was a little different., This time, the discourse mostly focused on the fact that even if Shiro and Keith disregarded canon and morals and the fact that it’s a kid’s show ever did get in a relationship, the only thing that matters is how they like to have sex.

This is a problem for a lot of reasons. There’s a culture, pretty prominent on tumblr of women, mostly white, who are obsessed with gay sex. They write fanfiction and p*rn solely for their own personal gratification. This, of course, is a gross misinterpretation to wanting LGBT+ representation. If you aren’t a mlm (an acronym for men-loving-man, that includes many sexualities) then writing p*rn about is sexualizing them, using them as a tool to get yourself off, and not like complex human people. Mlm are more than how they like to have sex. In fact, that shouldn’t be a part of a discussion for anybody except between willing partners. This also feeds into the popular and damaging stereotype that gay men are predatory by nature.

So, as a whole, not good. 

And again, we have a whole situation escalated by Bex. The worst part is, to people who tried to explain this to her, the only response they were given was a gif:

So once again, a minor dared to express their distaste for Bex on tumblr. But this time, they didn’t tag her. This time, they censored her name. But Bex found it anyway. And she decided to do the exact same thing that led to a minor leaving the website, and to stop watching the show. 

Have no fear, this time though. This time, Bex is going after a 14 year old, at least she’s not going after kids anymore, right? [sarcasm]

Some final notes. 

Bex claims to be an LGBT+ rights activist. I’m also pretty sure she’s a lesbian herself (again, I already know too much about her, I’m not looking to get to know her better.) So, you’d think, as someone who wants equality for LGBT+ people and communities, she’d have the wherewithal to listen to specific subsets of that group when they say something about themselves, like, for example, young mlm who don’t appreciate being sexualized by a white woman. So I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when I saw this on her blog:

Now, I happen to agree with the above statement, but it’s so ironic, so hypocritical that Bex is talking about the sexualization of anything. Because kid’s shows aren’t safe from her sexualization and mlm certainly aren’t. How can one person be so incredibly oblivious? A mystery that I don’t have any interest in solving. 

I also want to address something a little more devious and a little more dark. I personally know of at least 12 different people who sent Bex asks, politely explaining some of the things I’ve talked about here, or relaying how her words hurt them personally. Bex never answered any of them. But she did answer this:

Just to be perfectly clear, I do not condone or encourage hatemail. Do not send people anything wishing them death or harm in any way. I have never sent nor do plan on sending hatemail, and you should be ashamed of yourself if you do.

However, this is incredibly nefarious. Bex doesn’t answer any of the many asks she got that were polite, but proved her wrong. She didn’t answer any of the young mlm who gave her their personal stories and who weren’t anonymous. Instead, she publishes this. And she did this on purpose, to make her look innocent, to make her look like she’s the one being attacked. I get hatemail every single day too. Things along similar lines to this. I block the user. Delete them, One, because I don’t want to expose my followers to that kind of negativity on a daily basis, two, a mature person knows that deleting them is the best kind of revenge because the user will be constantly looking for a response and they will know they had no effect on me and three, because if you do that, eventually they stop. This is intentional on Bex’s part to make the people who don’t like her look bad. I don’t like Bex at all, and I certainly do not support that message. Any reasonable person wouldn’t. Also the fact that it’s an anonymous message adds a certain air of doubt as to who sent it. 

The point is, Bex is purposely ignoring polite and well-meaning people and posted this to “prove” she’s the one on the “good” side because no good person would send that message.

This is also worth noting: 

This was posted after the lancehunks debate but before the power bottom comment she made. In this post, Bex admits that a relationship between Shiro and any of the paladins is predatory in nature. She said that. Her words. And then after that she said that Keith was a power bottom. 

The last thing I want to say, is that Voltron is a kid’s show. It’s rated US-TV-Y7. Which means for years 7 and older. Regardless of the ship, there should be no sexual content, be it fanart, of fanfiction of Voltron characters at all. We are all collectively responsible for keeping content age-appropriate for the target audience. So, stop it. All and any ships. 

For minors, this is my advice to you:
Bex is a predator, a hypocrite, and a liar. Do not engage with her. Block her. Do not tag her in any of your posts. She has a history of targeting minors. Protect yourself. Do not engage.

A love of ice and thunder

Pairing: Loki x Thor x Reader.

Warnings: Smut and LOTS of it; a bit of drama too. There’s a lot of everything going on here so you might pick your blanket because this is also long af.

Summary: When Jane leaves Thor, in your heart you know he should stay with you, but as time goes by, his brother realizes that there is more to it.

A/N: I need Jesus, and when you finish reading this, you’re gonna need him too. My characters know they need Jesus, so that should tell you something. Feedback? It won’t hurt!


You poured some shampoo on your hand and gently started to massage your scalp with it. “So,” you started feeling the soft foam form in your hair, “I got a call from your brother yesterday,” you let the warm water run down your soapy self as you awaited for your boyfriend’s answer.

“Really? Thor knows how to make a phone call?” Loki snickered from the toilet seat. “Well, that is quite the surprise,” he shook his head.

“The thing is that he broke up with Jane just a few days ago and even though it wasn’t a lot, she’s given him some time to move out,” you casually said trying to elicit some kind of reaction from his uninterested being. “He’s really bummed, y’know?”

“I bet,” Loki pondered, “I’d be utterly destroyed if you dumped my ass,” he conceded, “but why are we talking about him anyway?”

“Well, I’ve been doing some thinking about it and… I wanted to ask you if he could stay here for a while,” you stuck your head from the end of the curtain and looked at him innocently. “I kinda owe him that…” you bit your bottom lip.

“How so?” He ran his fingers through his ebony hair.

“When SHIELD first sent me to the States I ended my renting contract with my landlord and I moved there, and when the agency died after the whole Winter Soldier thing I realized I had no home to go back to; Jane was still there and when your brother came to earth he stayed with her, so he asked Jane if I could live with them until I got my own place…” you sheepishly said as you rinsed the shampoo from your head. “I stayed there with them for like 4 months, so maybe he could stay here for that same time too, if you don’t mind,” you broke it down. “Can you pass me the towel, please?” You reached out your arm and he handed the soft cloth.

“What about our life?” He asked in a concerned voice. “I mean let’s face it, love; we are not the quietest ones and Thor isn’t either; he snores like a chainsaw,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but we’ll have to be a bit more quiet and just… hold on?” You drew back the curtain and got out with Loki’s help. “Let me return him the favor, it’ll be for just a little, okay?” You looked at him with puppy eyes, it always worked with him. “Can we?”

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he shook his head and unmade the towel, making it fall onto the humid tiles. “I might consider it,” he effortlessly lifted you in his arms, making you wrap your legs around his waist, “but only if you bribe me,” he mischievously smiled and headed for the room.

And just a few days after that, Thor was setting up this few belongings in the spare room of your apartment. He was really embarrassed for having to ask you that. He knew he was invading your privacy and your couple life with Loki, but he really didn’t have much choice or friends in the United Kingdom.

“It’s okay, big guy,” you placed a hand on his shoulder when he sat on the bed in defeat. “I know it hurts and all, but… you’ll be fine eventually, give it some time and you’ll see how things turn alright,” you shrugged lightly, “besides you’re living with us now, we’re gonna have fun!” You smiled widely and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He rested his head on your chest and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Now come, and we’ll ask for something to eat for dinner,” you said.

Keep reading

Front Row Seat

Jenna knew the Samwell men’s hockey team.

Of course she did. Everyone did. But she especially did because she was on the Samwell women’s hockey team.

She knew it wasn’t a phenomenon exclusive to the Samwell Women’s Hockey Team – the lack of recognition for female athletics. But the men’s hockey team were so especially over the top, most of Jenna’s classmates didn’t even know Samwell had a women’s hockey team.

Jenna knew it wasn’t the team’s fault. When Jack Zimmermann had been captain, he’d been really good about scheduling ice time and showing up to home games when he could for support. The two captains after, Ransom and Holster, invited the team to every kegster (they invited the entire school so that wasn’t that big of a gesture but it was still nice to be recognized as a team), And Eric Bittle, the most precious bean Jenna had ever met, still sends them a couple pies every time they win a game.

They were good and kind dudes.

But they were absolutely ridiculous.

Jenna didn’t have to know the men’s hockey team to know William Poindexter and Derek Nurse.

“I’m just saying! How else do you explain an image without written alphabet conveying a singular message to tens of thousands of people?”

“Nurse, you’re not going to convince me memes are their own language, okay? You’re just not.”

“Where’s your sense of curiosity, Poindexter? Where’s your finesse?”

“I don’t know, where’s your chill, Nurse?”

Jenna bit her lip to keep from laughing. She didn’t need to turn around to see the scandalized look on Derek Nurse’s face.

It would have been so easy to resent SMH. They got all the glory, they got all the girls, and Jenna’s team worked just as hard as they did.

Instead, Jenna decided it would be healthier for her and more fun to instead choose to enjoy their antics. Especially since she had a front row seat to the world’s saltiest D-men.

Or, more of a third row seat. The row right in front of the row Nursey and Dex sat in, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday in Pop Culture Theory.

Every day a new adventure.

“I honestly can’t believe this.”

“Let it go Poindexter.”

“To hell with that, I need to bask in this.”

“Nothing to bask about, asshole, it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? Nursey, you have never read The Lord of the Rings. And I have! This is unprecedented.”

“Nice five dollar word there, book boy.”

“Oh, get fucked, Derek.”



“I’ll kill you, Nurse.”

“I don’t think you will. I do not think you’ll do that. Because you love me.”

“The Lord is testing me.”

“Will, what does that mean? Are you calling me the Lord? That is kind of you.”

“One more haiku, Nurse, I swear to God.”

“What is this I hear? Using the Lord’s name in vain? You bad Cath’lic boy.”

Nurse.

“I’m not saying you’re sexist if you can’t acknowledge that Jessica Jones is marvel’s best long form origin story, but why, William, do you hate women?”

“I can’t believe you, of all people, are arguing with me about this. How could you not agree with me that Luke Cage is the best?”

“Oh, what, because I’m part black?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, and that’s not racist! That’s me acknowledging all that shit you’ve ever said about privilege and cultural oppression and recognizing the representation of that through Luke Cage . The show is literally about a black man the police can’t gun down! You don’t appreciate that?”

“Oh I can definitely appreciate that. That message is dope! And I think you’re mad woke for your active listening. But, just, in narrative framing and character arcs and visual story-telling, Jessica Jones is leagues a-fucking-bove. Also her character is a nice subversion of traditional leading lady portrayals.”

“Yeah, no, she’s a badass.”

“For real. And at least we can agree they’re both better than fucking Iron Fist.”

“Yeah, no, fuck that guy.”

“Heard.”

Jenna’s favorite, though, happened on one of the last Wednesday classes before finals.

They weren’t already talking when they came in to take their usual seats. That wasn’t weird, they didn’t talk a lot of mornings. Jenna knew from word of mouth that their friendship was tenuous on the best of days so it made sense for them to keep quiet on some days.

No, the funny part – the amazing part – was after a good ten minutes of silence, thirty seconds before class was slated to begin, Jenna heard Nurse turn in his desk and casually ask, in a bored voice, apropos of nothing , “So you want a blowjob after this?”

Jenna tried not to choke. She could not laugh. She could not let them know she listened in on them every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday,

But Poindexter just paused and then sighed really dramatically before saying “Yes.” As if Nursey was really putting him out by offering him a blowjob.

Jenna absolutely needed to excuse herself she was so in danger of laughing herself into a coma but just then class began so she had to quietly have a heart attack for the next 40 minutes.

Jenna was the only woman on her team completely unsurprised to see the D-Men making out against a wall at the next kegster.