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#either they are cycling through abusive relationships or they live in an abusive household or they are constantly exposed to danger in thei

f1ghtsoftly · 11 months

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So like, this is why I call myself a Marxist feminists rather than a Radical Feminist because I primarily think that ending the relationship between heterosexuality/submission to male authority and women’s financial security will eventually end the intense prioritization of men by women. Without economic survival being assured without ties to the patriarchal family or heterosexual social structures, women will naturally just care about what men think a lot less.

There are other women who believe the opposite, that one must separate from men. I think this is truthfully impractical and cruel. It might make sense for a young woman without children and a college education, but it makes less sense for less financially well positioned women and once men realize many women who are financially well positioned are breaking away, they will use the women and children they control against independent women (or to at least, stay compliant with the scapegoating). Most women, statistically, have children that they need to care for. Most women, who work for wages, have jobs reliant on their willingness to work harder for less and to take male abuse. Most women do not live in a world where realistically they can reskill and leave their husbands without suffering dire economic and social consequences that will put them at risk for more predation. They literally either cannot afford it or live in cultures were this isn’t permissible. Not only that, but it destroys solidarity between younger and older women which we need to win. Men are 50% of the population. We need every woman on board. This cycle has already happened many times, all over the world, throughout history.

Now you may say? Why don’t women all pick up trades? I think going into the trades is a good option for a lot of women and I encourage it, but when I think about economic security, my mind drifts to more vulnerable periods of a woman’s lifespan like her later years and when she is a mother with young children. It’s easier to be economically well when you aren’t strapped by dependents or in bad health but men use our vulnerabilities against us to accept their dominion.

Women not only deserve inalienable economic security for the carework they preform through raising and educating children and caring for the old and sick but protecting women at their most vulnerable protects us all. If we want to live in a healthy post patriarchal world some, or most, women will still want to have kids. We want those women to need support via labor and $$$ from other women rather then men during that time. When women are old and need help, they need support and $$$ from female driven sources. We will all get old or sick someday, we all were children once, some of us may want to become mothers. All of these life stages are RIPE with male predation and exploitation and women forced “under” male protection , for whatever reason, are often turned against feminists but this is a false, male centered choice. Feminists are natural allies to mothers not men.

Knowing we don’t need to rely on men when we’re weak makes us strong and bold. Kids who grow up in households lead by women, with good financial health and strong female lead social bonds not only thrive but become kids comfortable with challenging male power. Adult women free from the burden of raising children without payment do not need to tie their social and political activities to a domineering and conservative husband. They also don’t need to be as desperate to work in exploitive work environments and can ally with childless women in organizing activities with less financial stress.

Wages for Childcare and full autonomy for female dominated industries IS the issue of our time. I don’t want every single woman to stay in a traditional field, obviously, I’m not in one, but I do want every single woman to know that no matter what there are millions and millions of women who earn good money to throw at lawsuits, financial assistance, who can take time off to protest, who can provide childcare etc etc…for women who do feel called to brave the world of male/het relations.

We NEED a strong base of financial autonomy and self respect. We NEED to make sure men can’t split us in camps of spinsters vs. goodwives. We NEED to make sure every woman knows we have her back, as long as she pays us back with loyalty to women first. It is so critical to the survival of this movement to create strong structures that support separatism rather then undermine it.

#im so ssrious when I say I want every woman to get so paid #SO PAID #do you even know how much the garment industry is worth?#do you know how badly teachers are paid compared to other professionals?#how many elderly women live in poverty and isolation?#finances are the invisable strings that drive a lot of pro patriarchal behavior among adult womeb #radblr #radical feminism #radical feminist #radical feminist theory #radical feminists do touch #radfem safe #radfems #gender critical #radfem

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ministrationz · 6 months

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i don't know what azula anti needs to hear this, but absolutely NO ONE who is worth listening to is seriously making the argument that azula hasn't done anything wrong, or that she's been the perfect child. what we are saying is that azula was a VICTIM of her fathers abuse and mistreatment by her mother, and that it heavily impacted her actions. yes ursa was in a bad situation, yes she was being abused by ozai, and yes she had very little personal liberties, but no matter how you spin it, that's no excuse to treat azula less favourably than zuko, nor is it an excuse to make azula feel unloved. the opinion that ursa can do no wrong and did no wrong to her children because she was abused is out of touch with the reality of what it's like to grow up in an abusive household. abuse is unfortunately a cycle and leads to EVERYONE in the household being negatively affected. this does not mean that anyone asides from the abuser is blameless for harm being done to children in the household.

azula understands that ursa was in a bad situation. she knows that her father was abusive. we see this in azula in the spirit temple. that does not, however mean that azula could not have been negatively affected by her mother's actions. azula was not born evil. she's a traumatized teenage girl with NO support system. she was left alone with her monster of a father from a young age and had to internalize all her struggles to survive. of course she can't manage relationships, and doesn't have healthy coping mechanisms. she has been groomed into being at her father's every beck and call. ursa treating azula differently from zuko and making her feel unloved from a young age, whether it was intentional or not, definitely made these issues exceptionally worse. when you have no one around you who genuinely makes you feel loved, and when the one person in your family that should have made you feel loved leaves, you're going to turn to the only source of it you can find (ozai, in this case), even if it means you act poorly or put yourself/others at risk.

ursa's parenting left azula traumatized, and i genuinely do think the reason many of you cannot understand that ursa did, in fact, make many mistakes is either because you are looking at ursa through the biased perspective we got in the show, or because you simply have not been in these circumstances in the past. abusive households are toxic to everyone. just because one parent is abusing everyone in the household, does not mean the other parent can't inflict harm, either. that doesn't make them any less of a victim, but it doesn't negate the devastating lifelong effects their behavior will have on their children.

was ursa in a good position to be a good parent? no. her situation is absolutely heartbreaking and i wish she had gotten to live an easier life. it is completely reasonable for her to struggle with parenting properly. you can't expect someone to take the best care of their children when they're in a terrible situation. does that excuse the impact she had on azula? no! not at all. while it's important to acknowledge how ursa's abuse influenced her behavior, ursa was not a good mother to azula and that is an objective fact. how do you see azula's breakdown at the end of the show, or her breakdown in The Search, or her visions in Azula in the Spirit Temple, and still think there was no issue with ursa's parenting? no child with a healthy relationship with their parents grows up with these feelings, let alone starts HALLUCINATING their parent haunting them. i won't even go into ursa forgetting her children and having kiyi because i think it's just absolutely ludicrous and completely inexcusable.

so many of the arguments against azula are textbook victim blaming. yes, azula conquering the earth kingdom and trying to kill people on behalf of her father was WRONG. no one thinks it wasn't! however, EVERYONE that should have helped azula FAILED HER. she is a product of her horrendous environment, and not acknowledging this while you grant a character like zuko, who unlike azula had people around him to support him, the benefit of the doubt when he acts out negatively for the EXACT SAME REASON without hesitation speaks for itself. no one is saying azula is a good person. no one is saying azula should not have been held responsible for her actions. what we're saying is that she is a person, not some evil caricature you can use to express whatever internalized biases you have. she has depth and should be treated as such. she is not some bogeyman you can levy your most heinous accusations towards.

on that note, please stop calling azula anything on the lines of psychotic, psychopath, sociopath, etc. you are showing how ignorant you are on mental health issues when you use these terms in this context.

#azula #tw abuse #ursa #as someone who grew up in a severely abusive household a lot of the takes i've been seeing make me feel like i'm losing my mind

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mcalhenwrites · 8 months

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This might read a bit weird, since it was meant to be the ending author’s note on Seasons.

It does get a bit personal, so please be aware of that.

Okay, here goes:

Thank you for reading, especially if you finished Seasons. Thank you for liking my writing. Thank you for making me feel like it was at least worth something. I appreciate all the asks people sent on tumblr, too!

More than ever, comments would be appreciated on this final chapter. Even if it’s just emojis and such. :’)

Feel free to skip the rest of this author’s note if you wish. I just want to share some of my process with this story.

When I first started Seasons, I wanted to capture many painful feelings and events, as well as the exasperation of dealing with a never-ending, unpleasant cycle. This story isn’t merely a reflection of some of my own experiences; it includes things I’ve witnessed or complicated what-ifs. I already had a clear idea of Vivian in my head since summer of 2022, as I was finishing up another story called Rascal, and he was pieced together from previous ideas I’ve had over the years. Some other concepts were taken from a story I started in 2008, although the children were kidnapped to become part of the family. (Which would certainly add to some of the horror, but that’s not what I wanted for Seasons.)

I had a lot of vague story lines to work with. Some changed or were rejected. But the general idea was: What would it be like if—day in and day out, for centuries—you were living under the control of your parents? Would you be satisfied with a routine in a household you could never leave? Would you not wish for stimulation and relationships and new experiences?

It sounds incredibly monotonous. Hellish.

Immortality is always an intriguing subject to me. There’s so much to learn, so many books and video games I’ll never get to before I die. But there would be downsides, too. Especially if you’re trapped. Society’s ableism and increasing gap between the rich and the poor has left me trapped currently, and the years keep going. But mine will someday end. I fear I’ll never be able to get away from my family or afford a house or adopt cats by the time I run out of years.

Seasons expanded upon some of those thought trains about immortality. What if your growth is quashed, but you live a long time?

Also, regarding Bee: What if your parents are supportive of queer identities and are queer themselves, but you’ve been so abused that you still can’t trust them? Poor Bee never felt safe enough to approach the topic. (This isn’t why he uses he/him—he shrugs when people ask what his pronouns are and says they can use any pronouns, but he’ll use he/him and people often just adopt that. A lot of his personal journey and self-exploration happens after ch 89/before the epilogue.)

It was interesting to explore the atrocities of a perpetually abusive childhood. While Seasons is not a horror story, it shares a lot of elements with the genre. Horror can be a cathartic genre for many trauma victims. And what works for one person might be triggering to another. The events of this story might resonate with some people and upset others.

I will confess that much of the pain written in this story is my own. That’s why I wrote this, for my own catharsis. Why I always go back to stories exploring trauma and abuse.

After all the horrors my characters endured, I wanted to see some of their lives improve, even if only incrementally. Living through the past few years in the USA has made me more and more inclined to go for either happy endings or bittersweet ones as both a writer and reader. If everything works out, however, I go, “Sounds fake, but okay!”

I wanted to go for something bittersweet this time. Various levels of progress were made with most of the characters. Phineas and his orchard may be an unrealistic rescue mission spawned from my own fantasies of escape, but this is fiction so I’m allowed a bit of absurdity as a treat.

What matters is that the five Liddell children I started with were able to take the steps they needed to heal and grow. They’ll keep growing in my imagination, well beyond the confines of this story.

I know this conclusion may not satisfy everyone who reads Seasons, but that’s how stories go sometimes. I’ve hated so many endings from media I loved.

I have no current plans to write a sequel. I have a few short stories ideas for Seasons, and none of them are about the sixth Liddell Season. I’d love to explore more about the characters who’ve been along for most of this journey already in side stories.

But it’s also time for me to give some attention to many of my other novels! All of them were put on hold because Seasons held my brain hostage and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, day in and day out, for several months. :’)

I started this story by posting it anonymously. There’s a lot of harassment online, and it seems to be increasing. I am a “spanko” (even if I’m not sure how I feel about that word), but how I discovered that wasn’t favorable. Some of my stories celebrate overcoming that and embracing the kink. Others handle the traumatic, abusive aspects.

Even if I could afford therapy, it’s still good for me to talk about these themes. Although it’s natural to hope that others haven’t been through the same shit I have, it’s also nice to connect with others who understand exactly what I’m expressing.

That is why people share, isn’t it? Writing for oneself will always be important, but it’s not wrong to want to connect with anyone. It’s up to a writer if they want to share or keep what they write to themselves. They shouldn’t refrain because the story is “too dark and nasty” or “not appropriate for children”, nor should they feel obligated to share when they’re not comfortable doing so.

I did fear this story would sink my (currently non-existent) writing career if I put my name to it, but I felt brave after the kind reception and decided it was worth a chance. I told the story I wanted to, even if it’s imperfect in parts, and it helped me feel a bit more courageous and less ashamed about my trauma.

I don’t know if it did anything for anyone else. If it did, I’m glad. But also, I’m equally sorry if you have experiences that align enough for the themes of this story to resonate with you.

I’ll keep writing stories, some with spanking and some without, some of them kinky and others like Seasons will only allude to it being one character’s kink later on. :’)

If this is where we part, have fun and thanks for taking the time to read this story!

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breakingbadandboujie · 2 years

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i have a date on saturday. i’m not particularly excited to go on it, if i’m being honest. it’s not that i don’t want to go on the date, i definitely do. but right now it’s not the usual “pre-date anxiety” that i’m used to feeling any other time.

i didn’t feel it very much on the first date either, now that i think about it. i think that’s a good thing. before i would worry myself so much about whether everything was perfect, if i looked like what they’d want me to, if they’d like me as much as i did. i guess now i have come to the realization that if she didn’t want to continue talking to me, she wouldn’t have. If she didn’t want to get to know me in person, she would’ve declined the first date. If the date didn’t go well, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world. If she didn’t want to go on a second date, she wouldn’t have said yes.

my two friends, who i introduced to each other and are now a couple, had pointed something out to me a few weeks ago about this. they said that i came up in their conversation. they talked about how i don’t have much confidence when dating and i don’t want to ask for as much as i give to the other person. they said because i’m a good person i deserve that reciprocation. it threw me off because i know it’s true. i did tell them they’re right. in the back of my mind i have had the thought that i want to get out of that cycle of feelings bc i know it directly comes from being emotionally abused and living in a dv household for a while. you try to outrun those patterns, but trauma can really make you blow up your own life. admittedly, i’ve been in a relationship with an emotionally draining person before, and i have been that person in a relationship before; i’ve made the effort to not be that person again by getting help. i never want to be that person again. since i’ve gotten better, i know there’s no rationality to talking myself out of happiness, but i’ve done it so much that it’s become normal. i really like this girl, i know she likes me, and it seems like we both just want to hang out and get to know each other more. i’m kinda scared to open up, but i know not putting so much pressure on myself to make it all work is the first sign of things aligning for the better.

aside from any feelings of anxiety, i know i’ve been feeling depressed lately. just a mix of school starting again and my best friend’s mom passing away after battling cancer. seeing her in hospice was very heart wrenching and i know my friend is having a hard time right now. while in the car to her mom’s service she made the joke that she’d never thought out of all things to have in common with a friend it’d be that she’d lost a parent while young.

it’s a very weird thing to be going through again, because her mom very much was a second mother to me. i think because it was a more prolonged grief this time; we knew once she was diagnosed she’d only have so much time left. people with my dad’s condition can live all the way into their 80s before having fatal complications. it’s just a sign of time not being guaranteed. my main problems are i keep getting these overwhelming waves of sadness and i haven’t been sleeping right. it’s messing with me a little bit. i don’t want to oversleep and miss my dental cleaning tomorrow. i’m going back to work soon and i don’t want it to effect me in the money making department. i have to get a car eventually.

for now i just need to allow myself to hurt. my mom is being very generous and gives me hugs whenever i ask. she knows i need them if i ask. what’s made me feel good is that i crocheted my cat a blanket and she loves it. my best friend’s mom could never teach me how to crochet wherever she tried. i just couldn’t get it, and i suddenly know how to now. i’d like to think she gave me the stillness of mind long enough to just let instinct take over. now i’m making a blanket to send my grandma. it’s halfway done. i’m going to keep crocheting to feel closer to my friend’s mom and to give my mind a break.

that’s all for now i guess

#lesbian ❤️🧡🤍💗🤎#dating adventures 🌹#life upd8 🫥#grief 🥀❤️‍🩹

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linkspooky · 4 years

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That’s What Makes Us Heroes and Villains

All the way back in the aftermath of the Stain Arc, Dabi and Himiko were the first new recruits introduced for the League of Villains. The three of them together, Shigaraki, Dabi, and Himiko are a trio. Effectively the three main characters of the villain side of the story. They are all three of them, traumatized children who were thrown out by society, and are now fighting back against it. They’ve been pushed out further and further until all three of them came to the same conclusion: Heroes are in the way.

Dabi: “There are no true Heroes.”

Shigaraki: “You heroes hurt your own families just to help complete strangers.”

Toga: “You heroes mess everything up.”

All three of them are children screaming the same thing at the heroes, trying to get somebody to listen only to be ignored. Shigaraki, Dabi, Himiko were all driven to become villains because of hero society. They became villains because heroes existed in the first place.

A meta on the villain trio under the cut.

1. Monsters

Shigaraki, Dabi, and Himiko are all introduced to us as monstrous villains who slowly become human over time. Their development is effectively then in reverse of the main heroes. The heroes we sympathize with right away because they’re introduced to us as innocent kids. We see the villains as violent monsters first before the curtain is pulled back and it’s revealed they started out as children all along.

When the three are introduced they have no affection for one another. Shigaraki even calls them “the two types I hate most.” There’s no trust, as the first thing the three do is try to kill each other.

We’re introduced to them at their lowest point. All three of them are in a bad place effectively. Himiko has been on the run for months, Dabi has been who knows where, and Shigaraki has had two successive failures in his attacks on both Stain and USJ.

Their cooperation in the Camp Raid arc is begrudging at best. This goes for the whole league of villains, (Spinner and Magne end up making things harder for each other, Several members get captured) they seem to be working against each other as much as they are working together.

Shigaraki, Dabi and Himiko were all effectively traumatized by the same thing, being cast out from hero society. However, in this arc they all have vastly different desires that make working together difficult. Dabi wants to fulfill Stain’s Will, Shigaraki wants to take down All Might and Hero Society at large to show how fragile it is, Himiko wants to take down Hero Society for the sake of her easier life.

They are not at this point motivated to work together at all and it shows in their cooperation.Dabi doesn’t really make any attempt to lead. Shigaraki just watches from the sidelines and sends out other people on a mission where he doesn’t really care much if they succeed or fail. Himiko doesn’t try that hard to complete her mission objective because at this point all she cares about is her own survival.

However after the defeat of All for One, the league of villains ends up all experiencing the same traumatizing loss together. They all become disenfranchised, living off of no money, and constantly having to be on the run. They lose all of their resources. However, as a reuslt their bonds with one another are strengthened and they really are working together for the first time.

Himiko isn’t just looking out for herself anymore. Not only does she not run away when things get hard, but she encourages Twice to do the same because she empathizes with his feelings.

Shigaraki goes from ordering people around in the shadows to not only meeting with his comrades face to face. He also has become the type of fighter who jumps straight into enemy fire on the front line for the sake of his comrades, using his own body as a distraction so he could work together with Compress and Dabi.

And remember, Dabi’s flames physically destroy his body every time he uses them. Yet, he respects Shigaraki’s leadership enough that he goes all out for the sake of the league when he’s asked to. If Dabi didn’t care about the league at all, he probably wouldn’t be constantly burning himself alive for their sakes.

All three humanize one another through their relationships with each other, Shigaraki values his comrades lives more than his own, Dabi cooperates with other people for the sake of his goal, Himiko’s empathic side began to show all because the three of them were for the first time surrounded by people who were just like them.

When shown empathy and understanding, Dabi, Shigaraki and Himiko all improve as people. They are not lost causes the plot has shown us the opposite, they’re capable of growing and changing. However, they are just as capable of GETTING WORSE.

2. Bad Children

Shigaraki, Himiko and Dabi all share the same origin. They were pushed to become villains because of what happened to them as children. They are the only three members of the league who have been shown as children, deliberately so, because the fact that this happened to them as children is what is so important to their narratives.

Himiko was born with a weird quirk, and that was it. She didn’t even show problematic behavior that far off of most children (most children don’t have the empathy to know that say, small animals will suffer pain if you hurt them) before her parents started to punish her. Tenko just wanted to be a hero and had a father with a grudge against heros when his punishment started. When he was in the streets begging for help the only thing he was guilty of was having a quirk that activated on accident. Touya was bred by his father for the purpose of his quirk, and because of that had to grow up in a household where his mother was constantly crying and his father either ignored him as a failed experiment, or paid attention to him which would have made his life even worse.

It’s not just a sad backstory for all three of them, it’s a case of systemic failure. Systems that should have protected them did not. The reason we’re shown this happening to them when they were children before they did anything wrong was that the narrative most heroes have is villains choose to be evil and there’s no helping it.

However, this happened to Dabi, Shigaraki and Himiko through no choice of their own. They were all helpless children when they survived these circumstances. The argument that “They could have tried to endure and become heroes” doesn’t work either, because all three of them did try to endure.

They all at one time or another made an attempt to be good children. They tried to reach their parent’s expectations for them. They tried to swallow up the abuse that was hurled on them and live with other people.

They were all children who were being abused, and told to just go on with their lives, told not to cry, told to suck it up. Instead of trying to fix or even address the circumstances of their abuse all of their pain was effectively ignored. Shigaraki, Himiko, being children DID TRY to live exactly as the adults told them to. They tried to be “Good Children” under the standards of adults, and they couldn’t be.

That’s the reality of living in an abusive household like the one Tenko grew up in. No matter what he had done, he would have been punished. He was the problem child, the scapegoat for his father’s abuse. Rather than tell the father to stop abusing the child, the child is held responsible for the behavior and told that they were at fault for provoking punishment.

Before you use Shoto as an example of still wanting to be a hero after enduring abuse, here’s the difference. Shoto didn’t die. Touya did.

All three of them were cast out before they did anything wrong. Are they still responsible for the choices they made as adults? Yes. However, I think it’s important to acknowledge that all three of these characters did attempt to try making the right choices and they still got cast out anyway. It’s not because they were good or bad children. It’s because society was designed to reject people like them.

RHA TRANSLATION: That’s how the muck gets cast out. That’s how they break and retaliate. That’s how it loops back, again, and again, and again.

The translations are radically different this week I’m not sure which one is right, but they are vaguely talking about the same cycle. Shigaraki, Dabi, Himiko were rejected before they did anything wrong. They were forced to endure all of this as children. They gained power to survive and began to fight back. They retaliated against the violence done to them as children as adults. Then, they are punished again.

It is a cycle where both people are acting badly. Shigaraki, Himiko, and Dabi drag innocent people into the conflict, because all they can think of to wake people up to the reality of their suffering is to make them endure the same. To show the world the violence they’ve endured on a mass scale, until it becomes impossible for those who are sheltered and protected by society, those who are saved to ignore the problems of those who aren’t saved. Shigaraki, Dabi and Himiko get innocent people involved it’s true.

HOWEVER. Were they not innocents at any point? Were they not just children who had not done anything wrong?

And we return to the Tenko household. Shigaraki, Himiko, Dabi are all responsible for their violent reactions to the problem, that was the choice they made. However, they weren’t the ones who created the situation in the first place.

Villains are held as responsible for all of society’s ills. We are told by heroes that villains choose to become evil, and that the only way to stop them is to violently suppress their activities. However all of these villains for the most part, are outcasts who hold no real power in society, and all have yes made choices to retaliate violently but were also pushed into those choices.

The society around them is designed to exclude people like Shigaraki, Himiko and Dabi. THE PROBLEM ELEMENT, is ignored rather than addressed.

What Shigaraki is saying here is that heroes don’t protect the people most in need of their protection, the biggest victims. They are designed to protect a status quo.

Heroes protect the institutions that are already in place, no matter how cracked or flawed those institutions are. they keep them in place. They are fighting to preserve a power structure that keeps heroes in power. The ones who have the power in society are the heroes. The ones who create society are the heroes. The ones who create the situation are the heroes. The villains in MHA are reacting to the problem, but they didn’t create the problem.

3. Twice

Dabi, Shigaraki and Himiko all have an incredibly important relationship to Twice. Dabi shows up to try to save Twice, even though he states he doesn’t care about the league. Himiko opens up to Twice and empathizes with him. Shigaraki goes to save Giran because Twice asked him to, and opened up to his team for the first time because of Twice’s begging and pleas.

The scene we see play out with Twice is what happened to Shigaraki, Himiko and Dabi as well. Twice is given an impossible choice. He can conform and sacrifice all of his friends to go with Hawks, or he can die right here. Once again, yes it is a choice. I must emphasize everything is a choice. The choice to retaliate is still a choice even if it’s influenced by the environment. However, this is a choice effectively made with a gun to Twice’s head.

What’s interesting is, when given the choice between betraying the people closest to him or getting shot in the head. Twice chooses to take the bullet.

As I said everything is a choice. Even an influenced choice is a choice. If someone is holding a gun to your head, you can just choose to die. You might be stuck in a situation where there are only bad choices, but it’s still a choice you make.

I emphasize choices over and over again, because somebody chose to make the world this way.

They exist in a system where villains are held accountable for all of their violence, their choices, and heroes are not. Heroes can effectively get away with murder as we’ve been shown with Hawks and Tokoyami.

I’d also like to emphasize that the villains make these choices while directly facing all of the flaws of society. The heroes for the most part are completely ignorant to the suffering of villains. We are shown this ignorance again and again. The villains attempt to explain themselves, their motivations and reasonings, and every time they are literally ignored.

Heroes and Villains both make choices, but Heroes are completely blind to their own faults. When they are told about the cracks of society by people who have lived through that, they effectively ignore the role they had to play in it. Twice tries to explain he can’t betray his friends to Hawks, that they’re all capable of being good people and he gets ignored. Shigaraki explains to Endeavor that his father told him heroes hurt their own families, he gets ignored. Endeavor’s case is especially EGREGIOUS. Endeavor who should be more aware of his own flaws than anybody else, still pretends to be the perfect faultless hero.

Heroes and Villains are both responsible for creating this flawed world, but the villains are held responsible, and the heroes are not. Heroes are given special privilege in society, Villains are mostly made up by the underprivileged and cast out. Society, is intentionally designed to divide up people like this and categorize one over the other.

And I think it’s especially important that every time Shigaraki tries to get someone to listen to him he gets told the same thing. Endeavor believes he is a good person fighting to protect others. He claims that he is the hero, fighting against someone who only hollowly wishes to destroy. Shigaraki tries to explain himself, he even makes a reference to familial abuse which Endeavor SHOULD RECOGNIZE and Endeavor’s response is to tell him to shut up and die.

Shigaraki, Dabi, and Himiko are wrong for violently retaliating, but every time they make any attempt to explain themselves they’re rejected just as violently. They are told, like they were when they were just children, to just shut up and take it. Shigaraki is told by Nana, Endeavor, Gran Torino everyone around him to die rather than fight back, is it no wonder he believes the whole system rejects him?

It is an unfair system to begin with, deliberately designed to uplift a few people into privilege and cast others out.

Heroes act like the few people who don’t get saved are just bad luck, but it’s not. Good social programs would have saved Twice. Social services would have saved Himiko. All Might realizing Endeavor was an abusive jerk would have saved Touya. If Gran Torino had checked up on Nana’s child, Shigaraki would not have happened.

All of these kids “just got unlucky” except the society they live in was designed to outcast certain people like them from the start. It’s meant to let people fall through the cracks. In each case it wasn’t bad luck, but rather intentional neglect of all parties involved.

Twice is told what happened to him was bad luck, but Twice didn’t slip and fall on a knife. He was put into the situation intentionally by Hawks. Hawks singled him out, targeted him, pushed him to the breaking point, and then killed him. The one who had power and the upper hand in that situation was Hawks from the start, but Twice is blamed for his own death for merely fighting back.

The connection between Shigaraki, Dabi, and Himiko is that they’re pushed to become more and more radical over time. Himiko had killed a few people yeah, but she wasn’t a terrorist on a mass scale.

Dabi had no criminal record when he started. He only started killing people to make the news when his father became the number one hero. The more they are rejected, the more radical they become.

All three of them have become radicalized by the death of Twice, and all three say effectively the same thing.

Dabi: “There are no true Heroes.”

Shigaraki: “You heroes hurt your own families just to help complete strangers.”

Toga: “You heroes mess everything up.”

Why do they blame heroes? It’s because heroes are the guardians of the society that rejects them. Heroes do not protect people, they protect systems and structures first and foremost. The heroes aren’t coming to save them and they never were.

#shigaraki tomura #himiko toga #dabi #todoroki touya #shimura tenko #league of villains meta #shigaraki meta #dabi meta #himiko meta #lov meta #mha meta #my hero academia meta #my hero academia theory #bnha 281 #bnha 281 spoilers #mha 281 #mha 281 spoilers

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def-initely-soul · 4 years

Text

house rules {1}

pairing: jimin x reader (f.)

genre: fluff; angst; roommates au; kinda new girl au; smut; f2l au

rating: explicit

warnings: sexual content; mention of emotional abuse; mention of manipulative relationship; mention of body issues; explicit smut

words: 26.3k

summary:

↠ {living with two guys has always its pros and cons. Pros being someone will always get you popcorn for your midnight cravings. Cons being you might like one of them…?} ↞

or alternatively, the shenanigans of five friends, where two of them are in a loving relationship, one is Kim Seokjin and the other two don’t know what the fuck they’re doing

The clock on the other side of the wall keeps ticking, each second driving you closer to madness over the insistent sound.

You click your pen open and closed. Open and closed. Open and closed.

And yet you still have no freaking clue on how to begin this godawful novel.

Godawful as in the mere effort it takes for it to come to life is starting to make you want to flick yourself off from a window.

Like, god, you’ve been staring at an empty piece of paper for almost two hours now, your coffee’s gone cold.

And yeah you write in paper. No laptop, no typewriter, just you, your pen and a currently empty piece of paper. It seems more direct, more intimate this way. Put you in front of a blank screen and your brain will surely follow it.

Although, today it doesn’t seem like you have much luck with paper either.

With a tired sigh, you rest your mighty pen on your desk, taking out your noise-cancelling earbuds and stand up from your chair.

You stretch out your limbs, your back already killing you from hunching over your desk for two hours now and you trudge over to the living room where the rest of your friends are having a movie night.

“Guys, the old crone decided to join us…” Hoseok comments from his side of the small couch as you drag your feet to your designated spot beside Jimin on the big couch.

“Quick, hide your popcorn, and hide your jelly beans!” Seokjin joins in on the mocking as Jimin scans through Netflix for a decent movie none of you has seen yet.

You know you’ll end up watching Dirty Dancing again because the chances of finding a movie none of you has seen yet are nearly non-existent.

“Ha, ha, your superior sense of humour is astounding…” you mumble as you sit cross-legged on the couch and Ana turns to you from her spot next to Hoseok.

“No luck with the novel still huh?” her eyes are looking at you sympathetically and you grumble a response, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, it’ll come to you eventually,” Seokjin says, stretching his hand from his armchair to your right to nudge your knee and you let a deep breath infiltrate your lungs once he retracts it.

Jimin gives you a side glance before his eyes return to the screen. “Yeah, until she gets a different idea and the cycle repeats itself.”

“Hey!” you lightly punch your best friend in the ribs, earning a groan from him, “I just have to find a way to start this bloody thing and then it’ll turn out to be the greatest book in the century, you’ll see!” you defend your cause, eyes wide and challenging on Jimin who simply smiles at you with a winning smirk.

“That’s more like it…” he replies, the glint in his eyes your only hint giving away the intention behind his words and again you groan. Refusing to let the smile on your lips appear.

“I hate you when you do that…” you mumble, a small note of fondness only Jimin can distinguish, hiding in your voice as he finally picks his choice of a film with a smile hanging from his lips.

“Shh, the movie’s starting!” Ana interrupts everyone when -surprise surprise- Dirty Dancing starts playing. All of you have a certain liking towards the movie- I mean what’s not to like? Summer romance? Patrick Swayze with half-open shirts? Heated dancing? With Patrick Swayze?- but you can say for certain Ana takes the cake as a Dirty Dancing fan.

“How can you still be this much excited for this movie?” Hoseok comments from beside her and even though he sounds judgey there’s only lovesick fondness in his eyes when he looks at Ana.

Although when Ana turns to look at her boyfriend, she looks completely serious. “Keep this up and no sex for a month. We don’t condone this kind of behaviour in this house.”

You and Jimin try to suppress your giggles as Hoseok’s eyes widen in fear. “You can’t do that, what about you?!”

Ana simply smiles back with too much sweetness. “My hands aren’t just good for making you cum, babe.”

Disgusted protests come from the rest of the group as you’re sure you won’t ever be able to unhear this.

“Why, why did we have to hear that?” Jimin complains as Seokjin makes a gagging sound next to him.

Hoseok just smiles. “Oh, come on Jimin, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy tapping this hot piece of ass!” and another round of puking sounds emerges in the room.

Truth is Ana didn’t date Hoseok in the beginning. In reality, she got added to your group only after she started going out with Jimin in the second year of college. And even though she and Jimin didn’t work out in the end, she had already become an essential part of your group and they even remained great friends after the breakup.

Not long after that Hoseok asked her out. And you swear no couple ever made more sense than those two. Although you really hate when they get down and dirty in Hoseok’s room which is right next to yours.

You first started living with Hoseok and Jimin in the first year of college, five years ago. Jimin was a guy you barely knew from high school but he was the greatest of options you had when looking to share an apartment with someone. You didn’t want to live in a dorm but it wasn’t like your parents were rich or something, so there was no way for them to afford an apartment just for you. So looking for a roommate was the best solution.

Hoseok came a little bit afterwards. You and he shared a class and you became friends fairly quickly. So when he told you the situation at his dorm was unbearable, you couldn’t help but think of the empty bedroom in your apartment. And the rest is history.

Seokjin became a part of your group only months before Ana did. He and Jimin worked at the same part-time job as waiters in a local restaurant. And while Seokjin went forward to run his own restaurant and Jimin followed his passion as a dance instructor their friendship persevered. So it wasn’t long before he joined your group.

And it wasn’t long before you got this stupid crush on him.

Not that it matters anyway. He doesn’t know and you don’t plan on ever telling him to be honest. You know how easily things could go wrong and you’re fine with simply being his friend.

“Okay, babe, that’s enough for now…” Ana quiets down her boyfriend with a small kiss on his lips and finally pipes down to focus on Patrick Swayze’s biceps.

Your eyes rest on the screen as another exhausted sigh escapes you. This novel is your chance of having something of yours published. What if you can’t make it in time? What if it’s shit? What if you finally realize after all this time that being a writer was never what you were supposed to be and all those years believing that were in vain? What if-?

Your thoughts get interrupted when you feel a palm laying across your knee and squeezing it gently.

The fog in your head clears a bit when you find Jimin looking at you with a soft smile. One that tells you not to worry. Jimin could always read you like a book so it’s no surprise he could sense you spiralling.

And it’s not a surprise that with a single look he can calm down your racing thoughts.

He’s one of your closest friends after all.

“Hoseok you can’t keep using Ana’s departure as an excuse to not help with cleaning up!” you yell towards the couple saying goodbye at the front door, while Seokjin giggles as he dries out some of your plates.

“Shut up, you heathen, this is true love we’re talking about! Also, I can and I will!” your roommate yells back and you roll your eyes. On the other side of the room, Jimin picks up several empty beer cans as Ana kisses her boyfriend.

“Go on, babe, before they drive a stick through your ass,” she chuckles.

Hoseok pouts, the gesture almost etched to his features by now. “Oh, and you haven’t even done it that thing you wanted yet!”

“Again keep your weird sexual life out of this god-respected household,” Jimin comments and at once everyone turns to stare at him confused.

He stares back before, “Okay, yeah, I just heard it…” then he proceeds to take the trash out.

Ana chuckles before pressing another kiss on Hoseok’s lips. “Okay, I’m off. Bye guys!” to which you all respond with a chorus of “byes”.

Hoseok closes the door with a dreamy sigh before trekking over to the kitchen island to watch as you and Seokjin clean up. “Is it weird that I miss her already?”

Seokjin coos at the same time you react too. Although your reaction comes closer to a gagging sound and now both of them look at you like you just kicked a puppy.

You clear your throat, “oh, I- I meant… ''awww”...” you reply quickly, avoiding their stares to clean up the rest of the plates.

“Don’t mind her Hobi, she's just jealous,” Seokjin comments as he rests his towel on his shoulder.

At that, you scoff. You’re not jealous! You just hate corny things!

“Jealous? Pff. Who says they miss someone right after they leave? That’s just cheesy! I mean, yeah, you and Ana are perfect for each other, you’re cute together and you complete each other, and there’s intimacy and feelings and mutual respect…” your voice becomes sadder at the end and ultimately fades out, leaving you staring at the floor.

Where were you going with this?

The guys look at you with knowing glances and you groan out loud.

“Oh, shut your faces. I’m not jealous!” “Who’s not jealous?” Jimin asks once he’s back into the apartment.

“Y/N, of our relationship,” Hoseok’s quick to respond.

“Yours and mine?” Jimin queries.

Hoseok rolls his eyes but he responds in all seriousness “No, Ana’s and mine.”

Jimin just shrugs. “Makes more sense.”

Your eyes narrow and you scoff. “No, it doesn’t because I’m not jealous!”

Seokjin places his palm on your shoulder. “It’s okay, Y/N, I’m sure you’ll find someone someday to be grumpy with.”

You pick his hand and drop it off your shoulder. “Thanks, but I’m fine. Besides I got my novel to write, I don’t have time for a boyfriend.”

“Oh, I’d marry rich if I was expecting anything of that novel!” Hoseok comments with a laugh but everyone freezes, including you. Is that what he really thinks? That you’re not gonna make it?

All of you turn to look at him, but Hoseok remains oblivious of your stares for a few moments. But when he realizes you’re all looking at him, he looks confused.

“What?” he asks, visibly perplexed.

Jimin’s eyes widen, disbelief in his voice. “Dude!”

Hoseok shrugs though his eyes widen in almost fear. “It was a joke!” his voice is one pitch higher as slight traces of panic are evident in his words. When no one responds, he turns to you, desperation and honesty in his eyes. “Y/N, really, it was just a joke.”

You stare for a moment too long, before you nod, giving him a smile to spare him from his misery, deciding to not let such a simple comment affect you. “Yeah, yeah, I know, of course!”

“I didn’t mean any of that okay? It was a stupid joke!” Hoseok nearly screeches, regret in his words as he doesn’t seem at all convinced by your answer.

You force a laugh to calm him down.

“Hobi, I’m fine! Don’t worry too much,” you smile at him, patting him on the back and moving to put the plates Seokjin dried out to their respective cabinets.

He still doesn’t seem convinced and he’s ready to pester you some more before Seokjin intervenes, sensing you’re starting to feel uncomfortable with all the attention. “Anyways, Hoseok you said you wanted my opinion on something?”

Hoseok’s attention turns to Seokjin once he speaks up. “Ah yeah! Actually, my three-year anniversary with Ana is coming up and I’m all out of ideas,” he responds sheepishly as he rubs the base of his neck.

“Ehm, hello? I’m her best friend, why don’t you ask me?” you complain, putting your hands on your waist with one eyebrow cocked up.

“Y/N your most serious relationship lasted two months and it ended because you fought over which peanut butter spread is the best,” Hoseok raises an eyebrow at you as he and Seokjin walk over to the couch, trying to brainstorm ideas.

“I’m sorry but whoever thinks smooth is better than crunchy is simply not human,” the memory sends a shudder through you and you look at Jimin for confirmation and he’s quick to nod his head and agree.

“Oh, yeah, that relationship had no future after that,” he washes his hands at the sink as he looks over to Hoseok who simply giggles.

“Okay, yeah, I can give you that one. But you really have no idea of relationships, so I’m sorry but I’m not taking any suggestions,” he softens the blow with a flying kiss in your direction.

You scoff, indignant. “Rude. True but rude!” you admit as you finally place the last of the plates in its place. Hoseok and Seokjin are now deep in conversation, throwing one idea after the other and if he decides to go with any of these, you’re sure Ana will dump him before he gets the chance to utter “break up sex”.

Seeing as there’s nothing else left for you to do, you decide to head off to sleep, making a mental note to talk to Hoseok about his date ideas and salvage whatever you can.

“Okay, I’m going to bed, goodnight guys!” you wave them goodnight before turning to the hallway when Jimin comes towards you.

“I’ll walk with you,” he says, following you into the corridor.

You walk in silence, not that it’s weird or anything. You and Jimin have reached that point in a friendship where you don’t have to fill the silence to be comfortable around each other. You could be in the same room, doing completely different things, not talking at all, and still, you wouldn’t feel the need to fill the silence.

Once you reach both of your rooms, as they are right across from one another, you ready to say goodnight when Jimin interrupts you.

“Ah, wait…” he stops you just as you reach for your doorknob and you turn around. “What is it?”

He sighs before, “look, I know you know Hoseok didn’t mean any of that but I also know words tend to get into your head…” he begins, voice gentle and eyes cautious on you as you fidget on your spot uncomfortably.

“And I just want to say-”

“What?” you cut him off with a tired sigh, “everything will turn out okay? That suddenly I’m gonna be blessed with divine inspiration when I least expect it?” you give him a weak smile, crossing your hands on your chest.

What you don’t expect is Jimin to laugh. “No, no, all of that is just a pile of crap!” he chuckles and you can’t help but laugh along with him.

“I wanted to say that whatever goes through that little mind of yours shouldn’t keep you from writing. That’s what you do, you write! And, yeah, some of it may come out as complete bullshit, but that’s just how it has to go before you get better,” he says simply, voice filled to the brim with honesty and you rest your eyes at your feet, suddenly feeling very self-aware.

“Because I know you’re gonna get better. You just need a push,” he finally smiles softly at you, warmness spreading through your heart as if his smile is a portable heater, radiating warmth to the people closest to it.

“Thanks…” you mumble back, letting your eyes find him to truly express how thankful you are.

You aren’t good with expressing your feelings, not when it’s not on top of a piece of paper. Everyone knows this, Jimin even more so. You know you don’t have to say anything for him to understand how you truly feel.

And so he smiles back and nods as if to say “you’re welcome”.

And for a few moments, you stay like that. Both of you leaning on your doors, staring at each other as another silence fills the corridor.

But this one is different. Still comfortable but there’s something else hanging in the air. It’s the way you look at each other, basking in each other’s presence, comfortable and not ready to say goodnight yet.

It’s the way Jimin’s looking at you. Smile slightly fading as his eyes remain on your face, ever serious, ever intense as if they’re saying something his lips can’t, something you can’t quite understand, something that makes you feel-

Jimin breaks the stuffed silence with a shake of his head. “Anyways, um… goodnight, Y/N…” he says, voice thick with something and his words seem to revive you as well as he opens the door to quickly go into his room.

“Ah, yeah, goodnight, Jimin,” you reply casually before you enter your bedroom and close the door behind you.

That felt… weird.

As much as you try to put a name to what you felt out there, you can’t. The situation felt too foreign, too much for your drunk mind to comprehend.

You shake your head, passing it off to the many beers you had and without giving it much of another thought you go to sleep.

Although, three weeks pass after that talk and you still can’t get it out of your mind.

You figured you would’ve forgotten about it by now, blaming it on the amount of alcohol you had consumed that night but no. Those last few moments before you parted in the middle of your hallway still linger in the crevices of your mind, not unlike a bunch of vultures scavenging for prey.

Even now, at Seokjin’s birthday party, it’s all you can think about instead of paying attention to the birthday boy himself and the subject of your affections. If he even knew you weren’t focusing on him on his own birthday party he would flip.

Did Jimin want to say something to you? It seemed so but since then he’s made no indication as to show he wants to talk to you. It’s been three weeks and there was no other talk of that weird conversation outside your bedrooms. No sign that it ever happened. You wonder what was going through his mind at that time. You wonder what he’s thinking about it now, if he even thinks about it still like you.

“Earth to Y/N! Hello?” a floating hand breaks your inner monologue, Ana looking at you with scrunched eyebrows and a glare to match. The two of you are currently alone amidst the crowd of partygoers as Ana dragged you aside to excitedly tell you about the amazing anniversary Hoseok had planned for them, last Saturday. You guess you lost focus somewhere in the middle.

“What?” your voice gets defensive and Ana’s glare seems more intimidating as seconds pass by.

“You stopped listening!” she slaps you lightly on the arm and a yelp comes out of your lips as a form of protest.

“I didn’t!” you try to defend your guilty self as you rub the afflicted spot.

“Yeah, no, I thought so at first “Y/N would never just stop listening” so I started casually throwing Seokjin’s name into the conversation, that always worked like a charm to get you to focus, but you still didn’t listen!” she retaliates and you shrink back in shame.

“Sorry…” you mumble in all honesty, biting your lip in embarrassment. “But I heard the most important parts!” you perk up, “And the whole concert then cooking at home date idea was really insightful and cute! And full disclosure, if I hadn’t interfered and let Hoseok listen to Seokjin, you would’ve ended up at a screening of cats!” you shake your finger at her and she giggles out loud.

“Although I gotta admit, Hoseok cleaned up really well on its own…” you smile at her and she nods with a dreamy sigh before taking a sip of her drink.

“Oh, and you have to thank me for stopping Hoseok from using his “free Hoseok love” coupon as a gift.”

Ana’s eyes widen in grave seriousness. “Oh, he did use that…”

You wince at that. “Oh god, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t fret too much about it, he also bought me that cute pair of boots I wanted!” she pats you on the back before she bites her lip as a child that’s about to get scolded, “~and… I also kind of enjoyed it…” she says with a wink and you roll your eyes at your friend.

“The leather ones that were really expensive?” she had rumbled over the course of a week about how she fell in love with those boots but their relationship would’ve never worked (in simpler words she couldn’t afford them).

She nods at you. “Marry him,” you respond with urgency and Ana laughs at you.

But as her giggles die down her face turns solemn once more.

“Are you okay though? It’s not like you to not pay attention, even more so when it’s about Seokjin…” she says with a chuckle at the end, yet her eyes remain cautious and you sigh.

“Yeah, it’s just that Jimin-”

“Y/N, wait… I’m sorry but you do realise that I was talking about Seokjin, right?” her stare is a bit weirded out, “and that we’re currently at his birthday party and you choose to hang out with me instead of talking to him?” she skillfully observes, making you feel uncomfortable at how her words trigger something you haven’t acknowledged before and you’re certainly not ready to do so now.

You shrug. “I guess I don’t know what to say…” you choose to say instead, hoping it’s enough of an excuse to get out of this conversation.

“What do you mean? You never had a problem with that before…” she counters, genuinely confused at your bizarre behaviour and you press your lips in a tight line as you shrug once more, not really knowing how to address that.

At your hesitation to breach the subject, something seems to click in Ana’s mind and she sighs in realization.

“Can I tell you what I think without you getting all grumpy and defensive?” she asks, eyes careful and hands in the air as if to pacify you. You shrug again, albeit a bit curious about what she has to say.

“I don’t think you really like Seokjin- ah, ah! Let me finish!” she shushes you when you begin protesting, “I mean not anymore, it was pretty obvious you were crazy into him when I first met you but now…” she takes a breath, eyes looking at you wearily as she prepares for the finishing blow, “now I think you cling into the idea of liking him because it’s comfortable. Because it’s easier to fall back into the safety net of liking someone and not doing anything about it than making yourself deal with the fear and uncertainty that comes with meeting someone new.”

Your cheeks flush as you stare at her, feeling vulnerable as if someone cut you open and went through your most inner thoughts, even when you feel like there’s something else that neither you nor she hasn’t been able to pinpoint.

Ana’s observation finally put what you’ve been feeling for a while into words. You haven’t realized it but the more you think about it, the more sense it makes.

And yet you still stubbornly act like it’s not the case at all.

“I… I’m not afraid to meet new people…” your protest is as weak as your voice and Ana looks at you unimpressed and thoroughly unconvinced.

“Really? Then you’ll have no problem talking to Seokjin’s friend from high school,” she points at the tall, blond hunk with the glasses and the cute dimples currently chatting with Seokjin.

“Namjoon?! Are you nuts?! He’s way out of my league!” you screech in panic. Namjoon is a sight to be held and in your opinion, people should pay to see him up close. Would that be considered a fucked up way of prostitution? You’re not sure.

Ana rolls her eyes. “First of all, “leagues” aren’t a thing and second of all, you’re totally scared boo!” she says plainly with a victorious grin and you flinch instinctively.

“I’m not! I just don’t have time for a relationship!” you say, still trying to get out of this conversation even though Ana doesn’t seem at all deterred.

“No one talked about a relationship, you baboon, it could be just sex. But, out of simple curiosity, how long has it been since you had sex? Seven, eight months?” she retaliates, in all ways but physical backing you up into a corner.

You groan, hiding your flaming face behind your hands.

“This is the perfect opportunity to hook up with someone and never having to talk to them again for the rest of your life. No strings attached, no awkward first dates, no phone calls. Just one night of drunken sex to get you to relax a bit and who knows? Maybe it’ll help you get your inspiration back,” she concludes with a tilt of her head. And the more you think about it, the more you realize she’s right about everything. About Seokjin, about using him as a distraction, about needing to relax and this being the perfect opportunity for it. It’s been a while since you’ve felt any sort of attraction for Seokjin. No excitement or accelerated heartbeat, no sweaty hands, no unbearable giddiness when he decides to throw a visit.

You guess somewhere along the way those feelings faded out, giving place to the love and comfort that comes out of a years-long friendship. You’re not attracted to him anymore.

And Ana’s suggestion does seem kind of appealing. You suppose some sex would help you get rid of all the nerves that come with writing a book.

And Namjoon is kinda hot. Okay, scratch “kinda”, “unbearably hot” is more fitting.

You just worry if he’ll able to surpass the last time you had sex. For some reason, you’re almost convinced he won’t.

“Okay, you’re right, I’ll do it,” at that Ana squeals and claps her hands happily.

“But I have to talk to Seokjin first,” you continue, resulting in a confused expression masking Ana’s face.

“What? Why?”

You shrug. “I spent those four years crushing on him, I feel like I need some kind of closure,” you chuckle and Ana stares at you dumbfounded before she shakes her head.

“Fine, do what you have to, but don’t take too long! Namjoon is like a walking modelling billboard, most of the people in this party have their eyes on him. Boy, if I wasn’t dating Hoseok would we be doing things right now…” she reveals as she stares at the man in question while biting her lip and you stare at her disapprovingly.

“What? I said if,” she says as if abdicating all blame and you shake your head at her with a laugh. Hoseok wouldn’t mind and to be honest they’d probably be talking about how to convince Namjoon for a threesome.

“Okay, I’m going, wish me luck,” you announce as you begin making your way towards Seokjin.

“What you need is alcohol, not luck,” Ana yells at you as she goes to find her boyfriend and you give her one last smile before turning your attention to the birthday boy.

Only now realizing what you’re about to do and, great, your hands are trembling. Maybe you did need some alcohol.

But it’s too late to make a run for it when Seokjin spots you and a smile graces his lips.

“Y/N! Come over here! You know Namjoon right?” he rushes to include you into the conversation, eyes wide with hidden meaning as he nudges you towards Namjoon and the man with the dimples smiles at you.

“Ah, yeah, we’ve met before. How are you?” you smile back at him and the longer he smiles, the deeper his dimples become and the more adorable he is.

“Can’t complain. How about you?” he chuckles, the sound almost illegal, as he pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Oh, right, he also has a deep and mellifluous voice. How is this man not famous for something?

“Pretty well I’d say. Um, do you mind if I steal the birthday boy for a bit? There’s something I need to talk to him about…” your hand is already dragging a confused Seokjin away, even if you’d rather be doing that to the other boy.

Namjoon blinks at you, as perplexed as Seokjin before “Ah, yeah, sure…”

“Thanks!” you yell over the music, although you’re sure the man mustn’t have heard you as you’re already making your way down the corridor towards the back of Seokjin’s apartment.

“Ugh, Y/N? What’s going on?” Seokjin’s voice is beyond weirded out as you finally reach his bedroom, that’s off-limits for the party. You push him in and close the door behind you.

“Sorry, I just needed some privacy for what I’m about to do…” you admit with shaking hands as Seokjin’s eyes widen in fear and confusion.

You take a breath before fixing your posture and stare bravely at the man in front of you. “This may come as a shock to you but I…” you take one final breath, “I used to like you-” you begin, dreading the moment Seokjin decides this is too odd for him.

“I know.”

Seokjin’s voice takes you by surprise as your mind processes the words that just left his mouth, a different kind of dread overwhelming you.

He knows?

“What? What do you mean you know?” your voice comes out offended, as Seokjin puts down his drink with a sigh and turns to look at you.

“I mean I know. You weren’t exactly subtle with the stares and all…” he comments calmly although your mouth falls open to join your feet at the ground at the absurdity of the situation.

He knows. All this time, he knew?!

“Well, why didn’t you say something?” you throw the words at him accusingly and he rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t want to embarrass you! I figured since you hadn’t said anything that you didn’t want to act on it so I never said anything either!” he defends himself, voice high-pitched in true Seokjin fashion.

“Oh my god, that’s so embarras- Wait,” you cut yourself when his words strike you as odd and another thought makes itself known in your mind. “You mean that if I had said something…?” you look at him weirdly and Seokjin sighs, eyes already confirming your suspicions.

“I might… not have said no to a date…” he admits, scratching his ears and your mouth drops open.

You could have dated the Kim Seokjin and you didn’t because you were too scared to make a move?

Wow, your past-self would be seriously pissed at you.

Seokjin rushed to explain. “But that was back then when I didn’t know you that well!”

You gasp at the offence, crossing your arms on your chest. “You mean now that you do know me, I'm not that dateable, Kim Seokjin?!”

He groans, rubbing a palm over his face. “I just meant that back then I was willing to risk our friendship because we weren’t that close in the first place! But now we’ve been friends for almost half a decade and even though you are extremely dateable” he says with a roll of his eyes but you’re still satisfied, “I just can’t see you in that way. And even if I did I wouldn’t be willing to risk our friendship over something like that,” he concludes with a sigh.

“Oh,” you reply simply, satisfied with his answer before you continue.

“Well, that’s good actually, because I just wanted to tell you that whatever those feelings were… they’re gone now. So I just… wanted to come clean I guess…” you admit softly, finally feeling like a weight has been lifted off your chest.

“So, we’re okay?” Seokjin asks with hope and you smile, lightly punching his arm. You find yourself relieved after Seokjin’s confession and you know you’ll be fine.

“We’re okay,” you nod and Seokjin smiles back.

“That punch was lame,” he retorts and you gasp. “Do you want me to punch you for real, you masochist?”

His smile widens. “No, you freak of nature, I want a hug!”

Immediately, you begin protesting. “No, no, no, no, no. No hugs, you know this!” you begin moving away from him as he comes closer with a predatory grin. You absolutely hate hugs. They’re unnecessary long and intimate, you never know where to put your hands and you always end up having someone’s hair in your mouth.

Seokjin pouts as he nearly chases you into the hallway. “Come on, I just found out I’m not your crush anymore! Do you know how much of a hit is that to my ego!?” he says, standing in front of you, effectively blocking your way to freedom.

You sigh, already regretting, the words you’re about to say but seeing no other way out.

“Fine, but you have to promise me to not tell anyone! I have a reputation to upkeep!” you yield, shaking a threatening finger at him but his grin only grows bigger.

“Deal!” he squeals, eager to grasp this rare chance of affection from you, seeing as he has tried numerous times to get a hug from you but being unsuccessful. Till now that is.

His hands wrap around you in a soul and bone-crushing hug as your arms end up being squished between your bodies. You try to control the smile on your lips as you struggle to break your arms free and wrap them around his impossibly wide shoulders. Actually, this doesn’t feel so bad. It feels like being enveloped in a giant, fuzzy blanket. If that blanket had an unquenchable thirst for strawberry shortcakes.

A few moments pass before you begin to pull back. “Okay, you giant carebear, that’s enough,” you giggle as Seokjin retracts his hands.

“Now, wasn’t that refreshing?”

“If I let you know, I’ll have to kill you,” you mumble fixing your clothes and Seokjin’s trademark laugh echoes throughout the corridor, making your smile grow.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he throws you a cheeky wink.

You shake your head at him with a laugh before another thought crosses your mind and you bite your lip. “So… about Namjoon…”

Seokjin’s mind instantly follows your train of thought but he lets out a surprising -to say the least- groan. “Seriously?”

You find his reaction a bit too odd for your liking. “Why?”

“Uhm, you dragged me away to my bedroom at my own birthday party. He probably thinks we jumping uglies right now,” he fixes you with a disappointed stare. Fuck, you didn’t think of that.

You grunt in frustration. “Great, now what?”

Seokjin’s eyes glint when he comes up with yet another brilliant idea. “If we split we’ll find him faster!” he exclaims enthusiastically and your eyes widen.

“Genius thinking!” you declare before you sprint down the hallway, the both of you looking for Namjoon.

You would think it would be easy finding Namjoon in an apartment as small as Seokjin’s. But it’s not. It’s anything but.

When you finally do find him after almost 40 minutes looking for his perfect ass, it’s with his mouth stuck against another person’s neck so any hopes for a one-night-stand are going down the drain. So instead you resort to drinking the rest of Seokjin’s sparkling rosé collection until you have to pee your weight in alcohol.

You abandon the living room where the party is still going strong, in search of the holy grail that is Seokjin’s bathroom right now, hoping you get to relieve your misery.

But as you approach the door, you fail to register the voices coming from inside. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to live through the impending embarrassment.

Instead, you bust the door open in your haste to pee, but all of that goes to shit once you see Jimin inside the bathroom. Or, more precisely, Jimin’s mouth sucking on the pulse of some blonde’s girl neck -who feels oddly familiar- like he’s a fucking vampire.

Your eyes widen, meeting with fear Jimin’s livid ones before “OhmygodImsorrypretendthisneverhappened!” you yell in one breath, anxious to get out of there as fast as possible and before Jimin gets the chance to curse at you, you close the door and disappear down the hallway.

Ugh, oh my god, why are you so awkward?

You rub your hands on your face as you walk down the corridor, wondering where you’re supposed to pee now. Couldn’t they bone at Seokjin’s room?

Though, among your thoughts emerges one particular one that makes you stop dead in your tracks as you finally realize why that girl seemed familiar.

She wasn’t just some random girl. No, she was a very specific blonde girl, one that happens to be the pure personification of evil on the face of the earth, one that you’re sure hides horns beneath that perfect hair.

Jimin’s ex, the girl who manipulated and abused him repeatedly, the girl who broke up with him nearly a year ago to be with someone else, after he caught her cheating. The girl who broke his heart.

Dinah.

Fuck.

You remember the first time you met Dinah, although she hadn’t left any particular impression on you. She was a high school friend of Taehyung, with whom Seokjin shared some classes with and were kinda close. It was your fourth year in college when Taehyung was still hanging with you guys before he found a job opportunity overseas and left. Now he texts every now and then or visits even more rarely.

Seokjin’s birthday party is one of those rare visits, hence why Dinah was also present last night.

The first time you met her, almost two years ago, was in a scheduled study group in one of the local cafes. It was you, Seokjin, Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok and Dinah, most of the guys, studying to prepare for their last year through college and Ana couldn’t make it so honestly, you were relieved you had another girl to go through together the boys’ antics.

Although if Ana was there, she would’ve probably spent all of her time being coupley with Hoseok and that kinda defeats the purpose.

Dinah was studying for a math exam and Jimin had offered to help her since she wasn’t very good at it. You didn’t think much of it, mind already going haywire over your new novel idea so you didn’t really pay much attention to anyone.

It had been when Jimin left for the bathroom when you saw her scrolling through her phone that you decided to help her with a problem even Jimin couldn’t quite get.

Only her reaction was a tad bit different then what you’d expected. She had interrupted you even before you got to tell her you wanted to help, with a kinda sharp tone saying she didn’t need your help. You had backed off then, kinda bummed out about it but you could already tell she was into Jimin and wanted his help specifically.

But as you had turned to pay attention back to your novel, your gaze couldn’t help but fall on her open notebook. And there it was, in a hidden corner of the page in messy scribblings the solution to the problem. Her handwriting.

You didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t your cup of tea to hide your intellect to raise the ego of the boy you were into and besides feeling a bit sad for her, you didn’t do anything else. Who were you to judge?

It wasn’t until the two of them started going out that you started feeling some sort of dislike towards her. And not just you, the rest of the group as well.

It was obvious to everyone how shitty she treated Jimin. At first, of course, there were no signs as if to warn you of Dinah's manipulative nature, they were still in the lovey-dovey, honeymoon phase. But as time passed, Dinah’s facade began to crumble. Jimin’s interaction with the opposite sex were limited due to Dinah’s extreme jealousy, which meant you and Ana barely got to be around him, let alone talk to him. Her snide comments and judgey behaviour made him feel inadequate over everything. How he got her the wrong gift, how the movie he chose was stupid, how the restaurant he picked was disgusting, and the list goes on and on.

At first, Jimin tried to talk to her about those things, certain she would understand what she was doing once he’d brought it up. But when you’re in love it’s easier to ignore all the red flags. It’s easier to blame yourself for everything when you can see no fault in the person you’re in love with.

Soon the relationship turned toxic. Dinah became similar to a parasite, sucking the life and happiness out of Jimin, as he fell prey to her every whim. Making him even more insecure in himself when she knew he already had some issues he was trying to work on. But that didn’t deter her. Instead, it gave her leverage, to use all the ugly, little things Jimin thought of himself against him.

At some point, it had gotten so bad Jimin refused to eat.

It was then that all of you tried to intervene.

Unsuccessfully that is.

It had gotten pretty ugly in the span of a few minutes with how angry you and Hoseok were at Dinah and at Jimin’s unwavering loyalty to her. Soon it had become a yelling match between the three of you as Seokjin and Ana had tried to bring some sense to all of you. In retrospect, none of you handled the delicate situation well.

In the end, Jimin had stormed out of the apartment, furious at all four of you, to go to Dinah or to the only one that got him as he had put it.

Only to find her in bed with someone else.

He had come home hours later, stinking of alcohol, telling you what had happened through red eyes, tear-stained cheeks and hiccups.

You had put him to sleep and the next morning Dinah was breaking up with him over the phone.

The next few months were awful. But he survived them. He survived and realised he deserved better, not this hell Dinah made him go through. That wasn’t love.

After all of you encouraged him to talk to someone about everything, Jimin went to a therapist and he came out stronger. Sure, some of the issues were still there but so were the rest of you. He knew you’d be there for him if he ever needed you.

That’s why you’re so pissed this morning.

Ana and Hoseok look at you like you’re a ticking bomb about to explode at any minute from the other side of the kitchen island as you munch on your cereal and send death glares at Dinah, currently sitting on Jimin’s lap on the dining table.

If only “death glare” was a bit more literal.

You can’t understand Jimin. He was supposed to be over this. Doesn’t he remember what she did to him, how miserable he was?

“I haven’t seen you staring so long at something since that time you tried to microwave popcorn with your mind,” Ana’s hushed whispers reach you as not to alert the couple and Hoseok almost sputters out his milk.

“Did it work, though?” Hoseok’s eyes stare at her expectantly and you roll your eyes.

“Not gonna dignify that with a response,” is her cryptic answer.

“Seriously, am I the only one who’s pissed over this?” you say through gritted teeth, the happy couple wholly oblivious to your little conversation. Ana and Hoseok seem too calm, given you have a fucking demon at your dining table.

Ana sighs. “We are too, Y/N, but let’s face it, what can we do about it?”

You look at her in disbelief. “Talk to him?!”

“Yeah, and look at how that worked out last time…”

“They broke up.”

“After he caught her cheating…” her words are slow as if talking to a child, “and it wasn’t even him who initiated the break-up! If Jimin wants to be with her we just have to accept it and be there for him if something happens again,” she concludes, taking a sip of her coffee and you can’t believe your ears. She can’t be serious.

“Hoseok, what’s your say in this?” you ask, rather loudly might you add, so you steal a glance making sure Jimin hasn’t heard.

Hoseok shrugs in answer to your question. “We all know she was the devil incarnate. But maybe she changed. Let’s give her a chance.”

Your mouth hangs open when your last possible ally walks over to enemy territory. “Give her a chance? She’s not Andrew Garfield in the Amazing Spiderman!”

Ana’s expression gives away her utter bafflement. “I have so many questions…”

You shrug. “Everyone hates him but I think he was a great Spiderman.”

Hoseok’s incredulous stare doesn’t last for long. “Anyways, all I’m saying is Jimin went through a lot…”

“So he should know better!” you retort.

Hoseok doesn’t seem amused, “So there must be something that changed his mind! He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself. If he gave her a second chance, so should we.”

Ana nods at her boyfriend’s words and they both return their eyes on you, waiting for confirmation of your part that you’re gonna be nice.

You regard them with an ominous glare, “Traitors…” you mumble before you groan. “Fine. But I’m gonna be watching her every move. Like an owl!”

“I’m fairly positive it’s supposed to be “like a hawk”...?” a confused pout takes over Hoseok’s lips.

Ana chuckles, “It is “like a hawk”.”

Your confusion is evident. “Really? But owls are nocturnal animals, therefore have better eyesight!”

Ana rolls her eyes at you, tired of all the bird talk. “Even so! Please promise you’ll behave!”

You take a deep breath when a shrill laugh echoes throughout the apartment and you can already feel yourself fuming.

“I promise.”

After the two “lovebirds” have left your apartment for an impromptu date, which the declaration of had you nearly barfing on sight, you crawled back into your room, in search of inspiration, daring to take another shot at your mostly unfinished novel.

You gather your hair up in a messy bun, glasses on top of your nose, iced coffee next to your papers, preparations all ready to freely embark on the raging seas of creativity.

If writing a novel was that easy.

After writing another three chapters, well after the sun has settled in the horizon and your eyes are barely keeping themselves open, a knock thrums against your door. But before you get to reply, the door creaks open and Ana pops up behind it, walking in with observing eyes and a bag of cheddar-flavoured chips.

“Why do you even bother knocking?” you sigh, taking off your glasses to rub your exhausted eyes.

“The knock is a warning, not a request for entry,” she plops on your bed with a smile, crossing her legs on your duvet and pats the space next to her.

It’s not uncommon to have Ana spending the entire day here, after all, she is one of your closest friends, an elementary part of your group and Hoseok’s girlfriend.

You get up from your desk, limbs aching for the various positions your body has been in the midst of writing, and with a tired smile you sit down next to her.

“No luck with the book still?” she asks, passing you the chips and you hum appreciatively, your tongue already tasting the divine taste of those chips.

“Well, I’ve written some stuff… just not any particularly good stuff,” you munch through the snack with a grubbled noise of satisfaction and Ana nods in understanding at your words, “and honestly that whole “Dinah” thing is infuriatingly distracting! I’m still pissed and I can’t even stop thinking about it.”

“Wait…” Ana interrupts you and if her face says anything is that she just came to a sudden realization. One she doesn’t seem to particularly enjoy.

“Are you sure this isn’t because of…?” her words hang in the air as she regards you with careful eyes, waiting for you to grasp the meaning between her words.

Though you’re none the wiser. “Because of…?” your utter obliviousness is infuriating and Ana groans, rubbing her palms on her face, pinning you with a ridiculous look.

Right then, it’s as if a moment of clarity strikes you and you finally understand what she means.

Your eyes widen in horror.

“What? Ew, no! Why would you even think that?!” you immediately protest, entirely disgusted by the mere notion of what Ana is implying.

She doesn’t seem at all bothered by your extreme reaction. “I’m just saying, it happened!”

“Yeah, eight months ago!” she can’t be serious. There’s no way she actually believes that.

She cocks an eyebrow. “It was also the last time you had sex.”

You let an exhale drop from your lips, as you take a trip down memory lane, all the way back to eight months ago.

It was April, four months or so after Dinah had broken up with Jimin, leaving him a complete wreckage in her absence. It became a group activity, trying to get Jimin back on his feet. Making sure he ate, taking him outside for some fresh air, helping him get out of his funk.

One night, you took him out for drinks in a bar close to home, to help him get over her through alcohol and hopefully some meaningless sex with a stranger. And Although both of those things happened, it wasn’t a stranger lending him a helping hand that night. Or a helping mouth if you want to be accurate.

You had woken up the next morning in his bed due to the unsettling feeling of dread curling in the pit of your stomach. What the hell were you thinking? What if this changed everything? You were best friends and roommates, what now?

But when Jimin woke up, everything seemed to be back to normal. You were relieved things didn’t become weird, his words immediately putting a rest to your worries over your possibly ruined friendship, joking lightly about the whole thing and how the others might react to the whole incident. It wasn’t a big deal because you never let it become one. It was but one night of mindless sex, one that left you both satiated and you could both agree it meant nothing. Jimin just needed some rebound sex and you… well, it had been a while. And you had needs.

Although you did get a lot of teasing from the rest of the group for the next few weeks. That wasn’t anything fond to remember, especially when you were still thinking you were into Seokjin and he had a large part in said teasing.

But that was in the past. You never felt anything for Jimin in the first place.

“It’s not that, okay? She’s just an awful person and I don’t want to even think about the consequences of her doing Jimin dirty again,” your calm voice and demeanour finally convince Ana as she lets out a relieved breath.

“Okay, good. Got scared there for a second, things could get really messy,” she admits with a small smile.

“You don’t have to worry about that. If anything that’s the least of your worries right now,” you say munching on some more chips as you eye the clock on your wall.

Ana looks at you perplexed. “What do you mean?”

You press your lips together. “Hoseok is alone in his room right?”

Ana looks even more baffled now, not sure where you’re going with this. “Yeah…?”

You press your lips in a tight line. “It’s 10 o’clock…” you relay, a sense of urgency in your voice.

Ana’s eyes widen. Hoseok’s latest obsession is watching Glee reruns on TV, which wouldn’t be that bad if he didn’t insist on singing every episode’s songs for the remainder of the week.

‘You can still stop him if you run…” you offer and Ana is immediately off your bed.

“Hoseok put down the remote!” she yells, running out of your room, down into the living room as you giggle and munch on the chips she left behind.

Your mind travels back to Ana’s worries about your feelings but you laugh them off.

You and Jimin? The entire idea is utterly ridiculous. He’s your best friend, you could never look at him that way.

Although, you too can admit he can be a sexy piece of ass when he wants to.

With a sigh, you throw the empty bag of chips on the floor and get under your covers, your mind too tired out to continue writing.

You just hope this thing with Dinah is only temporary. How long can a fling last when you already know the bad side of your lover?

When another week passes and they’re still going strong with no prospects of a breakup anywhere on the horizon, you realize it can be long.

Very long.

You wake up each day to giggles, picking thrown out clothes off the couch, listening to their yucky canoodling as they insist on making out on every surface of the apartment like a bunch of delinquents. While the rest of you are still present!

You swear if you hear another one of her obnoxious laughs you’re gonna drive a glass dildo through your ear canals to stop yourself from hearing altogether.

“I can’t take this anymooooore…” Hoseok whines quietly as you, he and Seokjin are crammed in the two-seat couch, while the lovebirds currently occupy the entirety of the big sofa.

It’s not that there’s no space for you to sit there as well. More like their insistent snogging effectively grosses the rest of you away.

“Me neither, but what can we do?” Seokjin whispers back while shuffling on the sofa, trying to find a more comfortable position and instead, managing to elbow both you and Hoseok in the process as an episode of Brooklyn 99 plays on the TV.

At the other side of the coffee table, Ana smiles triumphantly at you as she crosses her legs on top of the only armchair in the room. She was faster than the rest of you, that mean son of a bitch.

Hoseok squints at her with hatred before leaning in to whisper. “Is it wrong that I’m turned on by how mean she looks?”

Both yours and Seokjin’s protests of disgust are immediate.

“Lower the tent you perv,” Seokjin makes a face.

“Too late, this tent is the sturdiest thing ever built. I mean it’s so strong, so efficient, this stick is never gonna go down-”

“Okay, we have to do something or else I’m gonna finally kill Hoseok. After all those years of putting up with his weird sexual energy… this is gonna be the last straw,” your serious eyes turn to Seokjin to stress out the gravity of the situation.

Hoseok giggles mischievously and Seokjin sighs almost like he’s on auto-pilot. “Okay, okay, what do you propose?”

Hoseok pulls a face. “Really? That’s what convinces you? I’m hurt and as your friend of nearly four years I won’t stand for this kind of dishonour of my name!”

You both stare at Hoseok for a minute, no reaction whatsoever.

“Okay, I have a plan,” you ignore Hoseok in favour of turning to Seokjin and Hoseok groans, mumbling a grumpy “fake friends”.

“For the last time, Y/N, I refuse to be involved in your -honestly frightening- lust for murder,” Seokjin gives you the stink eye.

You gasp, offended. “I never said anything about murder!” you exclaim and Seokjin’s shoulders drop, looking somewhat remorseful.

You bite your lip though, knowing full well he’s not gonna like this suggestion either. “I just said we could sedate her and put her in Jimin's room.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, entirely disappointed but not surprised. “No.”

“Why? It’s a win-win situation! We don’t get to hear her and the couch is free!” you protest but Seokjin’s eyebrow raises.

“How’s that a win-win situation?”

“It’s a win-win situation for us! None of the wins is for her,” you shrug before Seokjin flicks you in the forehead and you yelp in pain.

The sound somehow alerts the couple and they both stop kissing to look over to the three of you weirdly. You and the boys immediately stop talking, trying to look as inconspicuous as ever. Which only makes you look even more suspicious.

“You guys okay there?” Jimin asks, voice questioning and wary.

All three of you smile at the same time, which honestly gives you a creepy “Stepford Wives” vibe, and you speak up when an idea pops into your head.

“Yeah, it’s just that this couch is kinda um… small for the three of us. But we’re fine!” you feel Seokjin staring at you wildly and you discreetly nudge him to play along.

Jimin’s face falls. “Oh, I didn’t realize! Some of you can come sit here.”

“Oh, no!” Seokjin waves his hands dismissively, “You guys seem really cosy there, we don’t want to ruin that!” he says, finally following your line of thought and you nod quickly as if to agree with him.

“Ah…” Jimin replies, voice soft and a second passes where his face hardens. But then it’s gone and he taps his finger on his chin as he thinks it through before-, “Well, you three can sit here and we can sit on the smaller couch if you’d like.”

The three of you are already standing up, ignoring the pout and slightly sharp glare Dinah is giving you.

Suck it up, demoness.

“Well, if you’re sure-”

“We’d really appreciate it-”

“Aren’t you two the sweetest-”

Jimin smiles at you, probably already knowing what’s going on and yet he says nothing, urging Dinah to stand up and follow him on the smaller sofa.

You and the boys fall to the bigger sofa with moans of appreciation, finally free to spread out your limbs without touching each other.

“Oh, yeah… that’s the stuff…” you moan as your arms lie limblessly to your side, not touching Hoseok’s or Seokjin’s for just a few centimetres but even those little centimetres of distance come as a blessing.

Ana chuckles at your antics and Seokjin sends her a glare.

“You don’t have laughing-at-the-rest-of-us rights, anymore, Brutus!” he shakes a finger at her but Ana’s smile doesn’t deteriorate.

“I’d let that Brutus impale me with her blade anytime…” Hoseok adds unnecessarily and you groan.

Jimin takes a pause for having his soul sucked from his mouth from the dementor next to him, to look mildly curious. “How would that even work?” he asks and Dinah looks less than thrilled to not have his whole attention anymore, making you feel somewhat in the mood to gloat.

Ana rushes to explain. “Well, you see it can happen when you have purchased a specific type of-”

Seokjin immediately shuts Ana with his palm over her mouth. “Did you have to ask?!”

Jimin giggles. “I just wanted to know!”

“Yeah, and I wanted to not be traumatized by that image at 8 o’clock on a Thursday night but here we are!” Seokjin interjects and an involuntary laugh escapes your lips before Hoseok joins you.

And then Ana and Jimin do too before Seokjin relents as well at the sound of your laughter and you all end up cackling like maniacs in the middle of your living room.

Well, all except one.

Dinah sighs a little too loud when your giggles don’t seem to die down and she slowly gets off the couch. Her sullen face, an indication she visualised this whole evening to play out a little differently.

“I think I’m gonna head home…” She addresses Jimin and he stands up too.

“Oh, no, so soon?” your sarcasm can’t be helped. Hoseok elbows you in the ribs in return and you just barely conceal your groan.

“Why? Stay a little while longer…” Jimin pouts at her, that one specific pout that makes him seem like a kicked puppy, therefore makes him irresistible to refuse. You purse your lips as you guide your attention to the latest adventures of Jake Peralta but your treacherous ears can’t help but follow the rest of the conversation.

“I can’t. I have to be at the office early tomorrow…” she sounds remorseful as her hands rest on Jimin’s chest. But as said before you’re definitely not looking at them, so you can only guess.

“I’m sure those kids can wait a little- You know what, I felt bad for saying that, so forget I ever did,” Jimin says quickly as he circles his hands around her waist. Again you guess.

Ah, yeah, you forgot to mention. Dinah is a damn paediatrician. How could a person as evil as herself be something in such close proximity to children will forever escape you.

She smiles at him before- “Buut… you can come over instead if you’d like…” she says in a low voice and your eyes widen. You drag them away before Jimin’s surprised ones find you.

He can’t do that! Well, obviously, he can but Jimin wouldn’t do that to you-.

“Actually I promised Y/N we’d watch Space Jam tonight…” he tells her somewhat apologetically but still you feel relieved. Watching Space Jam is kind of a tradition between the two of you. It was a favourite movie of both, a feel-good movie if you will and long ago you’d promised each other that when things got rough for one or the other and you needed a little pick-me-up, you’d watch the movie together. You didn’t have to say anything else, just ask if the other one wanted to see the movie. And whatever the two of you had planned instead didn’t matter, you were always there when the other needed you.

You asked him this time. Your novel wasn’t going that well and some serious doubts over your writing skills had plagued your mind. You needed a getaway. And you weren’t about to let her get that away from you.

“Oh… okay…” she responds, face crestfallen and sad eyes looking at her feet and you almost scowl. She’s doing this on purpose! She knows it’s a tradition between the two of you and by acting like this she hopes Jimin will bail out on you.

Well, joke’s on her, because that won’t work on-.

“But, I’m sure Y/N won’t mind if we do that some other time!”

You freeze. Did he just-? No, Jimin wouldn’t. But the smile on his lips, so hopeful, says otherwise.

You can feel everyone staring at you, waiting for an answer. Do they seriously expect you to be fine with this?! Jimin knows how much this means to you, what it exactly means about your state of mind right now! Is he seriously about to blow you off?!

Ana is staring at you with alarm, sensing you’re about to explode, warning you against it. She knows it’ll just hurt Jimin and you know that too, but what about you?

You ignore her stare, opening your mouth to give a piece of your mind when you meet Jimin’s eyes.

There’s no sign of ulterior motives in their familiar brown, just expectation as your best friend waits for the answer. You forget what you wanted to say and you just stare back. Why is it so damn difficult to say no to him?

A few seconds pass and Jimin, having sensed your hesitation, opens his mouth with a sigh. “Nevermind, we can just-”

“It’s fine! You can go!” you exclaim surprising everyone including yourself. Jimin turns to look at you flabbergasted but you just smile at him. You don’t know what drove you to do that. You just couldn’t bear to hear the disappointment in his voice while knowing you’re the one causing it.

“Are you sure…?” his voice is cautious, not wanting to go if it means it’ll get you even a little bit uncomfortable. Sweet Jimin, always thinking about others’ feelings. You smile again to spare his feelings, disregarding completely your own.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you reply and the sweetest smile takes over his lips, making all of this seem worth it.

“Great! Thank you!” he says, rushing to press a quick kiss to your forehead, taking you by surprise before turning to Dinah, “Just lemme grab some stuff,” he disappears down the hall into his room.

He reappears a few minutes later with a small bag over his shoulders, the smile still present on his lips.

“Ready to go?” Dinah asks as Jimin gives her a peck on the cheek and nods.

“See you tomorrow, guys. Y/N, again thank you,” he waves at all of you and flashes you a smile. You smile back, waving as well as he exits the apartment first.

Dinah though stops before walking out the door and then she turns to you with a grateful smile.

“Y/N, thanks for that, I knew he wasn’t gonna come if you weren’t okay with it. And I’m sorry for stealing him away. Have a good night,” she addresses you before moving to exit the apartment.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome…” you reply and as soon as the door closes behind her you continue, “...you little bitch!” you move wildly to get out of the couch after her at that blatant display of her having Jimin wrapped around her little finger, while Hoseok and Seokjin are immediately trying to hold you back.

She did that on purpose! She knew what that movie represented, she just wanted to spite you! You don’t care how sincere she looked, she did that on purpose!

“Hey, hey, calm down, they’re gone!” Ana steps in front of you to calm you down and slowly your breaths even out. Your tired limbs fall lifelessly on the couch, not anymore resisting Hoseok’s and Seokjin’s hold.

Once you’ve calmed down, all of them stare at you cautiously. You hate that. You hate the pity in their eyes, you hate how they know exactly how much this hurts you, you hate feeling like you need their help.

You hate feeling vulnerable.

“I’m fine,” you snap, shaking their arms off, even if your own still have a slight tremble and you stand up.

They exchange stares and you press your lips together as you stare at the ceiling. Taking a deliberately slow breath to control your trembling.

“I’m going to bed,” you announce, your tone final, not waiting to hear their responses before you leave the living room for the safety of your own room.

None of them makes an attempt to follow you and you’re grateful for that at least.

You stomp into your room, closing the door loudly before grabbing your laptop and sit on your bed with a huff.

You don’t need Jimin to watch Space Jam and feel good afterwards! It’s the movie that makes you feel okay, not the person you’re watching it with. That’s what you try to convince yourself as you search for the movie on Netflix.

But as you sit there fuming through the first few minutes of the film, you can’t concentrate. You feel pushed aside as if you don’t matter, from none other than your best friend.

You press pause and with a sigh, you push the laptop aside. Tonight wasn’t supposed to go like this. You were supposed to watch your favourite movie with your best friend, to make jokes and laugh with Bugs Bunny, to feel better for once in the entirety of the last month. To feel comforted and safe in the presence of your best friend instead of moping miserably on top of your bed and feeling worse than before.

Instead, you grab your phone from your nightstand, scrolling through media in a poor attempt to distract yourself.

That’s how you spend your Thursday night and before you realize it you fall asleep with your phone still on your hands.

“Y/N. Y/N, wake up…” a soft voice brings you back from your slumber and you sleepily open your eyes to see Jimin hunched over you with a small, tender smile.

“What… What time is it?” you mumble, rubbing at your eyes and Jimin’s smile widens ever so slightly.

“It’s twelve past one. Come on get up, you’ll be dying in the morning if you sleep like this…” he responds quietly, urging you to abandon your current sleeping position for one that is more comfortable under the warmth of your covers. You’ve been curled up like a cat next to your laptop that’s still paused on Space Jam.

Jimin’s careful eyes flee to the screen, only for a second before they return to you, ever so gentle.

“Oh, okay then…” you mumble kinda dumbly in your sleep-infused haze and Jimin looks at you expectantly for a moment too long before he pushes you further across the mattress, to leave what you belatedly realize is more space for him.

“Scout over…” he whines, voice still quiet and you look at him perplexed. Why does he wanna sleep here, he has his own bed.

“Why?” you ask, purely confused and not at all hurt by the previous incident as Jimin expected but nonetheless his smile saddens before he stares shyly at your duvet.

“I was thinking, perhaps, we could still see the movie if you’re not too tired…” he mumbles, eyes wide effectively nailing the “puppy stare” he’s infamous for and naturally you find resolve crumbling. The previous anger is long gone when you stare at him so you smile back as you move aside and draw the covers for him to get under.

“Get here, you rascal,” you whisper back and his smile matches yours when he obeys and climbs in, dragging the laptop forward to restart the movie.

The both of you get comfortable against your headboard, Jimin’s arm hanging loosely around your shoulders as you watch Michael Jordan get sucked down a golf hole to the Looney Tune’s world.

The truth is you’re extremely tired and you most probably will fall asleep during the movie but you don’t mind sitting next to Jimin as the movie plays in the background and you bask in his warmth. Because at last, you feel the raging sea of your thoughts subside. Your mind is once again calm and serene, all your worries thrown aside in the favor of this one moment that makes you feel content.

Ana’s warning faintly echoes through your head but the words are not enough to dampen your mood or make you spend a little more of your focus on them, even though Jimin’s arms feel safe. Feel like home.

A small smile stretches your lips. Even when you feel your eyes heavy with sleep, you still snuggle closer to your best friend.

{Jimin’s POV}

He’s a terrible, terrible friend.

The thought repeats inside the crevices of Jimin’s mind like mockery as he drives. His fingers tap against the leather of the steering wheel impatiently, matching his haywire of thoughts in a weird kind of fucked up way.

He shouldn’t have left. He shouldn’t have made the subtle request in the first place. He knew you needed him, how could he not? It was stupid and selfish of him to leave you behind when you needed him.

But when Dinah gave him a distraction, a way to keep himself occupied… that’s what he wanted. Right? A distraction from everything, something to keep his mind off of things, to keep him from making any mistakes.

But even as he was lying on Dinah’s couch he couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how he left you behind in a time he knew was difficult for you just so he can finally breathe freely, focus on something else other than-.

Dinah was good at that. Making him forget.

But as awful of a friend he was, he’s apparently an even worse boyfriend.

When his thoughts got too much to handle, too much for him to ignore and pretend he didn’t feel any remorse for abandoning you, he left Dinah’s with an excuse. It was a stupid one, he knew, she knew but still, she let him go. Because, as much as she made Jimin go through before, she changed. Jimin could recognize that in the way she acted, the way she talked, even the way she kissed him. That’s why he gave her a second chance in the first place.

And then he goes and probably ruins it by being the worst boyfriend. A stupid decision really.

He parks his car in front of their building and he locks with a sigh.

It’s late, too late for you to still be awake. And if you are awake at such an hour, it’ll probably be because you’re writing and you most likely won’t want to be disturbed.

But Jimin can’t help it. His guilt is killing him, eating him up from the inside so he has to at least check.

When he softly taps on your door and gets no reply, he pushes it open.

He finds you fast asleep, curled up on top of your covers, phone still on your hands and laptop still open next to your form.

He smiles softly at the image before he approaches you quietly, taking the phone from your hands to place on your nightstand before he wakes you up.

“Y/N. Y/N, wake up…” he whispers softly, unable to keep the smile away from his lips at your adorable sleeping form. Waking you up is a necessary evil; otherwise, the next morning will consist of your sore muscles and your grumpy behaviour in all its glory.

“What… What time is it?” you ask quite drowsily and Jimin is relieved to see no sign of hurt in your voice. Nothing that exposes any malice or grudge hold against him.

“It’s twelve past one. Come on, get up, you’ll be dying in the morning if you sleep like that…” Jimin pushes you softly to move under the covers when his eyes find the screen of your laptop.

Paused in the first few minutes of Space Jam.

His chest constricts uncomfortably and he moves his eyes away in shame. The pain in his chest can only feel like a blade has impaled him with all the implications of how much of an awful friend he is. God, great job, Jimin.

But as you move over your mattress and under the covers, completely serene and calm, Jimin decides to make it up to you.

Towards the end of the movie Jimin realizes you’ve fallen asleep.

You’ve been quiet for a while now but it isn’t until he turns to point something out that he realises your eyes are closed.

You’re breathing slowly, snuggled up next to him, face pressed into the pillow as your chest rises and falls ever so gently.

His lips stretch into a smile, pushing a stray hair out of your face. He picks up the duvet to properly cover you and the movement makes you shift closer to him, to press your face on his side as if searching for him even in your sleep.

His smile widens. And then it falls.

God, he wants to-.

He stops the thought before it emerges.

His movements are deliberately slow and as quiet as they can be as he gets out of bed. He closes your laptop, leaving it on top of your desk before he walks to the door.

He stops then. He turns to take one last look at you and then he leaves.

{Y/N’s POV}

Next morning you wake up feeling fully rested.

You rub the sleepiness off your eyes before sitting up, hands landing on your soft covers, toes on the cold floor and you wiggle them back to life as you stretch your back with an appreciative moan.

You check your phone for the time, shocked when you find it’s too early for anyone to be awake on a Friday morning and you contemplate diving back into the haven of your covers. But the truth is you don't feel sleepy anymore and you were never the person to loll around in bed either.

So with one last yawn, you put on your slippers and make way to your kitchen. Since you’re the first one up, you could cook breakfast for the boys, reminding them of how much of a good roommate you are and riding them with guilt about the fact both of them haven’t bought any popcorn this last week.

Oh, maybe eggs and bacon? They’d love that! And plus, the tastier the recipe, the more prominent the guilt. You’ll have popcorn to spare for the rest of the year.

But as you make the turn for the kitchen, someone else is already banging pots and whisks in their attempt to concoct a delicious breakfast.

Jimin’s humming some song, whisking some batter as a pan rests on top of the stove, eggs already crackling on top of the boiling oil and the smell fills your nostrils as you get closer.

Dammit, no free popcorn for you. But at least you won’t have to cook.

“God, that smells amazing…” you comment as you take a seat on the kitchen island and Jimin turns around, eyes wide in reaction to the sudden noise but quickly smirks once it realizes it’s just you.

“Morning to you too,” he chuckles with a roll of his eyes as the whisk never stops moving in his hands. He quickly looks back on the stove when the crackling gets louder and he puts aside the batter with a curse to inspect the eggs.

“Want some help?” you can’t help the soft smile on your face, surprisingly ready to step up and aid his ministrations despite feeling relieved earlier of not having to cook.

He blows a stray hair out of his eyes before he relents. “Please.”

With a giggle, you abandon your spot to help the poor man as Jimin finally finds some time to drink some water. “Where do you want me, chief?” you ask with your hands on your waist.

Jimin chokes on his water, coughing uncontrollably and worry fills you as you’re quick to pat him on the back.

“Hey, easy with the water bud!” you joke and once his coughing stops he gives you a weak smile.

“Got it. Um, you could whisk the batter as I fry the bacon. It needs some more stirring…” he turns to take the done eggs out of the pan, face red from the coughing fit and you mumble a quick confirmation before taking a hold of the whisk.

The kitchen is then filled with the sounds of your whisking and the crackling of the oil in the pan, as Jimin continues humming that unfamiliar song. You gather your hair up in a ponytail to get them out of the way as you continue whisking next to Jimin. It’s been a long time since the two of you have been like this; cooking together, spending time next to one another and still feel close even when you say nothing. The comfortable silence stretches around you as sun rays lighten up the space, hitting at all the right spots to illuminate the two of you.

Your eyes move on their own accord, fleeting to Jimin’s concentrated face as he adds another bacon strip. His brown eyes are focused on the task ahead, eyebrows scrunching whenever a particularly loud crackling sound emerges and your lips move into shaping an involuntarily smile. The sun streams run through his hair, flecks of dust floating in the air around him, almost like a halo, bathing him in an almost ethereal glow. As if you’re his lover and he makes you breakfast after spending the night together, tangled between the sheets.

Your mind short-circuits and you blink when the thought catches up with your reason.

What the fuck was that?

At that moment Jimin leans almost too close to your face, as he ducks to avoid some oil spitting out of the pan.

Your eyes widen at the close proximity and you suck in a breath, realising your mistake as soon as his natural scent infiltrates your lungs.

God, he smells so good. It reminds you of the fresh scent of rain and flowers and something so obviously him.

Jimin leans away immediately and you almost lean forward.

Y/N, what the fuck?

His smile is blinding. “Sorry…” he says before taking out the bacon strips, and you shake your head to get the weird thoughts out of your mind.

“It’s fine…” you mutter, returning your eyes to the batter.

Suddenly very aware of Jimin next to you.

After you’re done with cooking and putting some aside for Hoseok when he wakes up, the two of you sit down on the kitchen island to finally eat.

“So how did you sleep, Y/N?” Jimin’s voice is coloured with a teasing timbre as he regards you with wiggling eyebrows.

You groan out loud. You remember falling asleep during the movie very clearly and he’s never gonna let you live that down. But you’ll be damned if you let yourself go down without a fight. Or at least bringing him down with you.

“It happened once! Plus I wasn’t the one ditching my best friend to go get laid!” you tease him back, although a bit of your bitterness over last night’s debacle slips through your words, the jab at him a little more serious than you intended at first.

Although your pettiness quickly ebbs away once Jimin’s smile falls and he looks at his plate with a downtrodden face. You suddenly regret saying anything, realising how much of a jerk you’ve been to bring it up when you already decided it wasn’t worth to keep a grudge over. You don’t want to be the reason he looks like this.

“I was just joking, Jimin, I’m not really mad,” you rush to comfort him, placing a tentative hand on top of his palm.

You feel at ease when you don’t feel him pull back. Though a grim sigh rolls off his lips.

“Maybe you aren’t, but that does not make the way I acted last night okay…” he admits, voice low as he rubs the base of his neck with his other hand. He bites his lip in thought and your eyes stick there for a moment before you shake your head back into reasoning.

Thankfully Jimin doesn’t seem to catch up on that. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I was a terrible friend. I knew you needed me and I decided to leave. Please forgive me?” he begs with a pleading smile and damn it, it’s difficult to refuse anything to these eyes.

You sigh dramatically, tapping a finger on your chin as you pretend to ponder on it. “Say I do forgive you. How do you plan on replenishing those hours of agony I was forced to spend due to your absence?” you say with a mock-strict voice and Jimin smiles, already knowing you forgave him.

“I’ll do anything you want. Consider me your personal Genie,” he jokes, jutting his chin out and puffing up his chest.

“Does that mean I get three wishes and a spectacular musical number?”

He’s quick to glare at you. “Let’s not stretch this too much, okay?”

You chuckle when an idea pops into your mind. Oh, he’s gonna hate this, perfect.

The smirk that graces your lips can’t mean anything good, Jimin realises with a sigh.

“How about a little competition…?”

Jimin’s eyes widen in fear. “You don’t mean-?”

“A Just Dance Competition!” you announce loudly, grin threatening to split your lips as Jimin stares at you with a fond smile.

“Oh, god, I should’ve expected that…” he chuckles, the sound resigning as he shakes his head.

In your first years of college, competing on Just Dance choreographies was almost an everyday thing. You and Jimin would give your best dancing moves and Hoseok would judge. Although after many times cheating and being overly competitive to the point of threatening the poor judge, you decided to leave the activity behind.

“Come on, just this once…” you hold up one finger and bring out your best puppy stare to sway him. Jimin just stares at you with crossed hands on his chest.

“You said anything…” your voice visibly loses its excitement as your face turns a bit crest-fallen.

He doesn’t last for long.

“Fine. We can do this, I guess…” he relents.

“Yes!” you do a little victory dance at Jimin’s answer.

“But just this once! And no one else can see but Hoseok!” he protests, shaking a finger scarily at you and you groan but agree nonetheless.

“Okay! It’ll just be the three of us. Partners in crime!” you declare, enthusiasm ruling over your body, standing proudly with your hands on your hips.

Jimin shakes his head. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m your friend…”

You stick your tongue out to him. “Because you looove me,” you sing-song, pecking him on the cheek, with a loud smack.

Jimin’s frame remains still for a moment. Staring at you as you climb out of your stool to wake up Hoseok and share the news before he reaches out.

“Wait…” his hand grasps your arm, halting your steps as you turn around to him with a questioning look.

He takes a deep breath before a smile befalls his lips. “I just… I never got to thank you.”

You stare back, confused, trying to think of what he wants to thank you for, but as time passes and you come by with nothing, you get more and more perplexed.

“About what?” you sit down again, kinda curious of what is so important to him that he wants to thank you.

His smile is grateful. “You know, for being so considerate with this whole situation. I mean, we all know Dinah… And I appreciate you being so cool about it,” he says calmly, thankfully as he takes your empty plates to put them on the sink.

His words send a fresh wave of guilt through you and you bite your lip. You need to tell him the truth.

“Actually about that…” you turn to look at him, trailing off and unsure of how to tell him you actually, kinda, sorta hate his girlfriend with a burning passion.

“Yeah?” Jimin’s unaware eyes and sweet smile meet your shameful and guilty ones. He looks so oblivious and so happy. You can see he likes her, you can see he wants to make this work and even you can admit Dinah’s behaviour has changed. Maybe this is it for them. Maybe all that shit had to happen so the second time around they’d know better of each other and themselves.

Maybe they were meant to make it work from the beginning.

A lump gets stuck in your throat.

“... Of course,” you smile through the sickening feeling in your chest, one you choose to ignore, despite its magnitude, “I’ll always be there to support you no matter what.”

Jimin’s smile turns wider, radiant and you feel like it swallows you.

Like it’s the only thing you see.

It’s the next evening that you put on your dancing gear and get ready to beat Jimin’s ass.

Saturday is one of the few really free days you have. Jimin has no classes scheduled to teach today, Hoseok’s radio show isn’t scheduled for Saturdays and you’re just a writer with time to spare.

True to your words, you haven’t said anything to the other two friends of your group, keeping this little event strictly between the residents of this house. Although to be fair, there was another reason for the missed invite.

It’s not the first time during those two days that Ana’s words came to haunt you. To nag at your mind, making you wonder if there’s any truth to the accusations. Those accompanied with your behaviour around Jimin yesterday can only spell trouble for you and your dynamics.

No, there’s no way you feel anything else for Jimin besides cordial friendship. Ana just messed with your head, putting all those silly ideas in it to confuse you, hence why you can’t stop thinking about him naked.

Oops, did you say naked? You meant “in all those domestic scenarios where he’s your lover”.

You sigh. That doesn’t sound any better.

Okay, focus. You don’t like him. There’s no way.

Making your way into the living room, you find your roommates already in the area. Hoseok searches for Just Dance videos on youtube while Jimin stretches on the floor, leaning forward to touch his toes while granting you a perfect view of his plumpy behind.

God, what did I just say?!

You shake your head. That doesn’t count! You can still be attracted to someone and regard them only as a friend. Right?

Bottom line is you don’t like Jimin.

“Are we ready gentlemen?” you shot them a confident smile, already pumped up for this.

Jimin regards you with self-assurance colouring his features. “Ready for you to eat my dust? You bet I am,” he boasts, a sly smirk gracing his lips and you snort out loud.

“We’ll see about that…” is your collected comeback, not really worried about the outcome of this competition. You know you’re about to serve him his ass on a platter.

“Your trash talk sucks dick. Thank god I’m not the judge of that, both of you would be slammed to the ground right now…” Hoseok retorts with impassiveness as he puts a video on queue.

“You’re not here to roast us, you’re here to judge buttercup, so shut your hole and judge,” you bite back, the rush of the impending competition already getting you lightheaded, as you stare Hoseok down.

His eyebrow twitches in return. “Do you want me to change the song?” he challenges you.

At that, you and Jimin turn around immediately to see Twice’s Feel Special tutorial staring back at you from the screen and you realise that no. You don't.

“You’re fucking kidding me…” is Jimin’s less than excited response at having to dance the one song you’re a thousand times better than him.

This is gonna be a piece of cake.

“No, I’m done! You clearly cannot appreciate my natural charisma, which is simply a blasphemy! A blasphemy, I tell you! People would beg to be judged by me, you degenerates!” Hoseok bursts out of the couch, the dancing tutorial still echoing softly in the background.

“No, Hoseok, please! We promise we’ll be good!” you beg with not as much as a tiny speck of sympathy for your deteriorating dignity.

Jimin scoffs, crossing his hands on his chest. “We? I had no part in this disrespectful disruption and that should be duly noted!” he rushes to save face. Truth is you’ve gone a bit too far.

“Y/N, you threw your phone at me!” a sheepish smile takes over your lips as Hoseok’s eyes marvel at your completely nonchalant behaviour.

“I didn’t… throw my phone at you per se....” you struggle to find an excuse, “I… threw it to you!” you explain with a giggle once your words make somewhat sense.

“What?” Hoseok’s furrowed eyebrows are a clear indication he’s not buying your shit.

“I threw it to you, not at you! So you could... film us! And naturally, the competition would be fairer!” you say in explanation, making your story on the way though it seems none of your roommates believe you.

You suppose that’s fair.

“I would’ve believed you if you hadn’t screamed straight to my face, -and I quote-, “What do you know of judging you freaking cocksucker?”,” Jimin lets out a snort, one he’s quick to hide behind his lips once your ominous glare finds him.

“Well, that leaves us with no judge and we’re currently at a tie, so what will we do?”

Hoseok simply shrugs before heading off to the corridor. “Not my problem anymore, compadre!” he beams at you before disappearing into his room.

Another heavy sigh tumbles from your lips as the song in the background changes into a softer ballad and you turn around to Jimin.

“Well, I guess this was for nothing then…” you huff out but Jimin simply smiles.

“No, I don’t think so…” he responds cryptically and before you can question him about it, his hand grabs yours.

“Come on, let’s dance…” he mutters quietly as he drags you forward closer to him.

Your breath hitches as your palms rest on his chest, heart suddenly beating wildly out of rhythm. You try to chase away Ana’s suggestion, blaming these feelings only on the fact that he’s hot. That’s all. Nothing more.

“But it’s a ballad. It has no tutorial…” you sputter, panic lingering in your words in a futile attempt to get rid of that unexplainable warmth enveloping you as Jimin’s hands end up encasing you.

“So we’ll slow dance…” is his simple answer, clearly not at all as affected as you.

You don’t know why that drives something ugly through your chest.

There’s nothing else you can say to get out of this without making it weird, so you simply let him guide you.

It’s easy to fall into a routine, slowly swaying to the beat of the music as you rest your chin on Jimin’s shoulder. You let your hands find their way to Jimin’s back, sliding upwards to rest on his shoulder blades as his own spread comfortable warmth to the small of your back.

It’s easy to pretend like this. Easier to close your eyes and let the beat slowly fill your ears, as you bask in the safeness of Jimin’s embrace. Like it’s nothing but another normal Sunday night, and not a favour to you because he left you to go hang out with Dinah.

Dinah. The name brings a pang of dull ache in your sternum.

There’s a small lump in your throat that you swallow away.

You’re just worried for him.

A small voice wonders when you’ll grow tired of this.

Jimin’s audible sigh brings you back to reality. You lean back to find him staring at you. His eyes bore into yours and you can’t look away.

There’s something in them, something unreadable but it makes your cheeks scorch with the attention. Though you’re unable to avert your gaze from them. They remind you of that night, outside of your doors, when you were sure he was about to say something but ultimately choose not to.

Again, you wonder what that was. If he’s about to say it now.

But his lips remain pierced shut.

When the silence gets overwhelming you decide to break it.

You clear your throat. “So, uhm, have you done your christmas shopping yet?” you mumble, eyes zerowing on your feet that step side by side to Jimin’s.

His eyes still seek your own. “No, not yet…” he replies casually, hands soft upon your waist. “What about you?” he asks and you’re glad for the more than welcome distraction.

“Oh, yeah, I’m done with mine. Just haven’t figured what to get for Seokjin yet… You know how he gets about presents…” you mumble with a smile before you accidentally step on Jimin’s foot.

He hisses and your eyes widen as you rush to apologize.

“Shit, I’m sorry, maybe we should stop…”

Jimin shakes his head, “No, it’s fine…” he says, though his voice is a bit stiff and his eyes avert your own.

Nonetheless, he doesn’t stop dancing with you.

Again, there’s silence between you, only the sound of the song wafting through the living room. But this time it feels as if something else is floating through the air. Something tense.

You’re quick to fill the silence with a question that’s not easy to ask but it’s the only thing you can think of.

“So… you and Dinah, huh?” you just barely cover your shaky voice.

Jimin’s eyes find yours again. “Oh, uhm, yeah… I mean who would’ve thought, right?” he says with a surprised chuckle, “I mean after everything you’d think I would’ve stayed clear of her…” he says bewildered and an uneasy chuckle escapes you.

“Well, yeah, to be completely honest, we all were caught off guard…” you dare to say, remembering seeing him and Dinah in Seokjin’s bathroom that night. Only now thinking of his lips on her skin makes your stomach clench uncomfortably.

Jimin chuckles in response. “Yeah, I know. And I’m glad you are this civilized about it. I admit it wasn’t supposed to go this far, she was just there when I wasn’t okay and needed a distraction. She was familiar and comfortable. But then we ended up talking and… she’s really changed, Y/N. She kept apologizing for everything and I couldn’t help but think about how it would be if we tried again. I mean everyone deserves a second chance, right?” he concludes with such clarity and insight.

There’s a part of you that wants to say he’s stupid and naive for believing her. But the truth is he’s right. Everyone sane can see she has indeed changed and it reflects on their relationship as well. Jimin returns from their dates feeling happy and content.

You don’t know why that feels like a punch in the gut.

Your lips tug into a forced smile. “Right… wait, why weren’t you okay?” you ask, finally realizing you have no recollection of that. If he had been feeling less than okay at Seokjin's party, you can’t recall.

Jimin laughs your worries off, even though the nervousness in his features is obvious. “It was nothing. I just… saw something I shouldn’t have…” is his evasive answer. His eyes find yours again and they don’t dare to avoid you. Neither do you.

There’s something tense between you, something unspoken. You don’t think you can take any more of this without going mad.

But Jimin’s gaze doesn’t deter. It remains on you, as his hands tighten on your waist. The traitorous fluttering of your heart progresses and you mask your trembling inhale just barely. And suddenly an unexpected yearning blooms inside your lungs. One that’s swallowing you whole, threatening to take hold of your reasoning, threatening to push you forward and-.

Another Just dance tutorial comes into the screen and causes you both to jump in surprise and break apart.

Warmth spreads through your cheeks as you realize what you were about to do.

You were about to lean in.

Jimin clears his throat, eyes searching for his phone and he checks the time. “Oh, shit, I promised Dinah I’d go over there after we’re done…” he mumbles and you can’t help the slight sting that grows in your chest.

“Oh, yeah, go ahead…” you wind up saying, “I mean there’s no one to judge so technically there’s no competition anymore…” you try to get rid of the uneasiness with a chuckle.

Jimin looks at you with a carefree smile as if nothing happened. And you don’t know what hurts more, Jimin’s nonchalance about it or that nothing actually happened.

“Great, then I’m off. Bye, see you tomorrow!” he says, grabbing his phone and keys before stepping out of the apartment.

You stand there in the middle of the living room, eyes stuck on the closed front door. Knowing he went to find her and your chest constricts painfully.

You place your palm to steady your beating heart but it does not work. Not at all. Not when you keep wondering, wishing it was you in her place.

With terror, you realize you’re in deep shit.

You avoid Jimin as much as you can after that. December progresses, people flooding the streets to either buy presents, meet up with loved ones or visit the Christmas market at the centre, spreading love and warmth through an otherwise cold period.

Sadly that liberated flux of emotion cannot penetrate your tough walls of “perpetual desolation”, as you had once drunkenly described, and paired with the newly-realized feelings for Jimin, it renders you a real-life Scrooge.

That’s how Wednesday finds you with Ana and Seokjin, holed up in a cosy, little coffee house while trying to plan out this year’s New Year’s party.

It’s been a tradition of some sorts for you and your friends to host a New Year’s party at Ana’s apartment, given it’s the most spacious one, inviting all the people you know to celebrate the start of the new year in the best way possible.

You normally would be really pumped up about organizing the event, getting a small taste of the thrill the party would be weeks before. But today your mind isn’t at all able to focus on the preparations. Not that you could focus on anything else besides Jimin since Saturday.

“Okay, I’m sorry but we have to stop. Y/N clearly isn’t paying attention,” Seokjin acts out, his loud whining succeeds in startling you and you finally turn around to realize both of your friends stare suspiciously at you.

Seokjin is just confused, you can tell but Ana’s eyes tell a different story.

That night, after Jimin left for Dinah’s, you immediately called your friend, voice full to the brim with panic as you explained with a nervous stutter what happened. What you had realized and she tried to provide comfort in the best way that she could. She came over with a tub of ice cream, ready to talk it out with you and figure out what your plan was going to be. You also plead with her not to tell Hoseok, the boy couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

So you’re left sitting here, trying to plan out a party and instead wondering what your course of action should be.

And also wanting to tell Seokjin, hoping he’d have something different to say than Ana. Her suggestion was not what you wanted to hear. Not in the slightest.

“What’s going on?” the man in question asks once he deciphers the mild look of despair in your eyes, voice a tad more empathetic than before.

Your eyes find Ana’s.

She lets out a sigh, before closing her notebook. “Guess I’ll have to say it then…” she muses and a grateful smile masks over your lips. It’s still quite difficult for you to wrap your head around this sudden, inconceivable situation, let alone utter it out loud.

Seokjin’s confusion reflects in the state of his eyebrows; scrunched in, twitching upwards as his eyes zero in on Ana.

Ana rolls her eyes, takes a breath and then-.

“Y/N realized she’s in love with Jimin.”

“Ana!” you protest with wide eyes at her choice of words, feeling your cheeks redden as Seokjin gasps in astonishment.

“Okay, okay, “likes” Jimin,” she reformulates although she doesn’t have you convinced she believes this.

“Jimin?!” the man’s wide eyes are filled with disbelief, mirroring your own sentiments about the current turn of events.

You nod quickly yet somehow bashfully as another gasp falls from Seokjin’s lips and Ana mumbles a quiet “I know”.

“What? How? Who? No, wait, we know who,” he cuts off himself but not for long, “When? When did your feelings change? Was it after your one-night special of passionate love-making? God I have so many questions!” his whole form is trembling with excitement, giddiness over the newly discovered news that leaves you sort of confused.

“I don’t know actually…” you mumble, overly self-conscious and yet you push yourself to continue, to pour out everything that came rushing over you in the last couple of days. Maybe it’ll help. “It feels more as if… as if those feelings were always there? Only I hadn't realised them until recently…” you mutter, eyes on your cup as you stir the now-cold americano.

It still amazes you how much of those words are real. You like your best friend and in some way, you think you always did. Though you guess you were too dense to ever really pay attention to that bubbling feeling in your chest every time he was near.

Not until Ana pointed it out.

“How did you realize it then?” Seokjin’s query is deceptively calm and you figure from the insistent nail-biting, he’s holding back to not scare you off. An act you greatly appreciate.

“Well, Ana and I had a talk the other day which gave me a lot to think about… And after spending some time with Jimin alone and I started to observe myself and my behaviour around him… how he made me feel… I realized it for what it was. For what it is…” you stare at your cup while stealing careful glances at Seokjin, who looks ready to burst with whatever he wants to say but refrains from doing so.

You roll your eyes with a chuckle. “You can talk now.”

A loud gasp tears through his mouth before, “Oh my god, this is so exciting! I already ship it, you’re perfect for each other! If I’m being honest here I never made a move on you cause I also thought you had something going on with Jimin, oh sweet baby Jesus this ship is sailing itself. It’s canon! I-”

“Wait, Seokjin, I think you forget a very important detail,” Ana interrupts him, gaze stern as ever and Seokjin visibly hesitates.

“What?”

“Dinah,” Ana answers and Seokjin’s eyes glaze over with recognition before his shoulders drop.

“Oh, right…” he remembers solemnly and steals a glance at you full with guilt.

You smile although a bit saddened. “It’s okay…”

“But, Y/N… Are you actually in love with him? Or was this just something Ana said to tease you?” he regards you with wary eyes.

You rush to answer the question, minutes before so certain of your answer, only for your lips to remain shut with uncertainty. “I… I don’t know. I mean I thought it was just a crush but I’m not so sure anymore. He’s all I can think about, all I could think about even when I didn't know I liked him, something he said, or the way his voice changed, wondering what the cause of it was. I catch myself actively wishing to be in Dinah’s place, to be the one Jimin goes home to at the end of the day, the one to get to call him hers…” your feelings catch up with you and you find yourself needing a moment to breathe. A moment when you realize it’s not just some stupid crush.

You take a shaky breath. “Fuck, I’m screwed…” you say, the consequences of your breakthrough taking over you like a tidal wave, as you come to a startling conclusion. “I need to tell Jimin.”

Ana takes a tense breath. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

But you don’t listen, just like you didn’t after your talk. “I’m not expecting anything out of it so it’d be okay either way, then I can move on at last.”

She shakes her head disapprovingly. “Y/N, no, you don’t know how he’s gonna react! He’s not some rando you happen to stumble upon the same bar four nights a week. He’s your best friend with whom you live together. If things head south, it wouldn’t be as simple as just changing your hangout spot to avoid him! He’s always gonna be there.”

Her words sound ominous and, more frighteningly, reasonable, slightly wavering your resolve but you don’t back down just yet, turning a blind eye to the worst possible outcome even if the chances of that happening are so much more than the opposite. “It’s Jimin, no matter what happens between us, we always have managed to work through it.”

Ana sighs, eyes sad as she stares at you, once again having to fight her way through to make you see reason. “Honey, this is not as simple as him stealing your cereal…”

You swallow the lump in your throat, stubbornly refusing to let it go. “Yeah, but what if-”

“There’s no “what if” Y/N!” Ana lashes out, eyes wide half with irritation half with concern as both you and Seokjin are left to simply stare at her. “There’s no way to tell if he’s feeling the same and he’s currently dating Dinah, who he’s happy with! All you’re gonna achieve now is getting him all confused and uncertain. Do you realize how that may affect your friendship afterwards? Do you really wanna jeopardize what you have over a “what if”?” Ana’s rant is over and finally, you can’t hide behind your finger anymore as her words echo in your mind. Although there’s a large part of you that wishes to deny it, you admit with a heavy heart she is right.

You can’t tell Jimin. Not right now.

You bite your lip as you avert your eyes, trying to suppress your tears as you shake your head, to show you finally see reason. Even if it hurts like hell.

Ana sighs, regret filling her otherwise soft voice. “I’m sorry for being so blunt, if the situation was any different I would be right there with you, being the first to support you in your decision to tell him. But it’s not. And I just don’t want to see either of you getting hurt…” she confesses, as she reaches her hand out to tentatively cover your own.

You let her as you swallow the lump in your throat. The one that makes you feel like you’re drowning.

“I have to agree with Ana on this… I think it will be for the best if you didn’t tell him for now. But whatever you decide to do…. We’ll support you…” Seokjin adds with tender words, that Ana nods furiously to agree with, as he squeezes gently your other hand.

A sad smile manages to find its way onto your lips as you give them both a gentle and thankful glance.

“Thank you, guys…” your voice is barely audible. Then you shake your head, blinking the tears away and slap your cheeks to get rid of the choking in your throat.

“Okay, enough of this. Let’s go back to what we actually came here to do!” you exclaim with a smile and Ana and Seokjin smile back as they open their notebooks once more.

You might be going through a heartbreak but at least for now, you’ll be fine.

After that conversation, Ana and Seokjin took it upon themselves to help you find someone else, even if you told them a thousand times you weren’t interested.

Ana proposed Seokjin could give Namjoon your number but Seokjin was quick to inform you he was currently seeing someone. Ana tried to hook you up with a work friend but to be honest, there really was no spark with Youngjae so you gave up on that fairly easily. But there’s this guy you see a few times a week at your favourite coffee shop and just a few days ago he approached you asking for your number. At first, you were hesitant to give it but you knew Ana and Seokjin were right on the whole dating thing. If you want to get over Jimin, you need to give another person a chance. So you gave your number to Jaehyun and now, a week later after your talk with Ana and Seokjin, just two days before Christmas, you’re getting ready for your date. Seokjin had suggested you had the date at his restaurant and the probability of being somewhere familiar, somewhere comfortable was like music to your ears.

In the meantime, your avoidance of Jimin hasn’t subsided. There are moments when you think he’s on to you, or that he thinks something’s weird but whenever he tries to bring it up, Seokjin or Ana or your disappearance halt him.

The truth is you hate it. It feels awful to avoid your best friend, it’s horrible pretending as if you don’t see the hurt in his eyes when you dismiss him. But you don’t trust yourself enough to not spill anything to him yet. And Ana was right, you can’t afford to risk it.

So that’s your plan for as long as needed. Avoid, avoid, avoid.

Although when the front door closes with a loud bang, you have a feeling it’s not gonna be that easy today. Hoseok’s over at Ana’s as she promised to keep him there to give you and Jaehyun some privacy. So the only other possible explanation is Jimin returning earlier from his date.

You peak out of your bedroom to see him marching down the hall. His eyes stare stubbornly, intensely at the floor as if they try to burn holes through the carpet as his heavy steps boom through the apartment. That vein in his forehead is pulsing, threatening to burst at any moment, his lips pulled into an angry frown as he takes off his jacket. He tries to rip it off with hasty movements as if it’s something tangled to him, choking him.

“Jimin, is everything okay…?” you ask cautiously as he still struggles with his jacket in front of his bedroom.

He curses through clenched teeth, ripping the jacket off his hand with one sharp movement. “Yeap. Everything’s okay. More than okay! Perfect! Everything’s perfect!” he exclaims, even though the irony in his voice doesn’t do much to convince you.

“...Do… you wanna talk about it?” your voice is careful, wishing quite selfishly and guiltily he doesn’t, because you know if he does want, there’s no chance you’ll be able to deny him, date or no date.

He huffs before searching for his phone. “What’s there to talk about? That my girlfriend is a successful doctor that apparently gets paged in the middle of our date? That children need her and I can't complain? That I’m searching for my phone and I can’t fucking find it?!” he bursts before taking a deep breath to calm himself.

Your stomach flips uncomfortably in response to the hurt hiding in Jimin's eyes. His face is filled with worries, marking the space between his eyebrows and you want to smooth your thumb over the lines. Your chest constricts in a bothersome matter when you spot his glassy eyes. It’s not an image you like to see on him.

So, against your better judgement, you do what you’ve tried so long not to.

You talk to him.

“You’re not a bad person for feeling angry. As long as you don’t put the blame on her you’re okay. It’s normal. You just want to spend some time with your girlfriend…” you respond, trying to hide the sadness colouring your voice at the word “girlfriend”, as you walk out of your room into the hallway to talk properly to your friend.

His eyes, filled with something akin to shame, find yours and you wanna wipe that frown from his lips with yours.

But you control yourself. You’re not an animal.

“Also, check your jacket…” you point at the article of clothing with a soft smile, and as he follows your advice, he gives you a small, closed-lip smile. But it’s still a smile.

With a tired chuckle, he finds his phone in one of the pockets and shakes his head before his eyes find yours. Although as they land on your form, the chuckle fades out, confusion written on his skin.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asks, pointing to the mini black dress you’re wearing and sudden heat scorches through your cheeks.

“I, uhm… Yeah, on a date…” you chuckle nervously, rubbing your arm, eyes on your feet. “Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m going, the guy’s too hot for me…” you try to joke but Jimin has none of it.

“Bullshit, you’re too hot for him! You always do that, you put yourself down, thinking you’re not good enough, but Y/N, they’re not good enough for you! You’re amazing, funny, smart, kind and, yeah, sometimes grumpy as hell, but you deserve more than feeling like one of someone’s many choices. You’re the only one. So treat yourself like one as well.” Jimin interjects, voice serious and kinda fed up but his last words soften. He looks at you with such tenderness you can almost pretend he feels the same. You can almost pretend he wants you too.

Almost.

You clear your throat. “Thanks, sport…” you respond with a chuckle, trying to chase the tension away, but Jimin’s eyes won’t budge. They seem uncertain as if he’s trying to figure out something, but their intensity only tortures you more and you have to say something to break free from them.

“Uhm, yeah so I have to go now…” you move back to your room to get your purse and coat and Jimin’s eyes finally move away from you with a cough.

“Yeah, uhm… Yeah, of course…” he rushes to say, eyes fidgeting anywhere but close to you as he struggles to open his door.

“...Unless you want me to cancel?” you propose, knowing full well if he says yes, there’s no way you can say no to him. And that Ana is probably gonna beat your ass.

Jimin almost chokes at that, face flushing, turning his body towards you yet his eyes look at the floor. “What? Why? Why would I want you to cancel?” he stutters, eyes fidgeting between you and his door.

“Well, I figured you’d want to talk some more about Dinah…” you say softly, thinking you must have hit a nerve on his pride but he visibly relaxes at your words.

“Oh, uhm, no, don't worry about it, I’ll be fine. Go enjoy your date, and say hi to Seokjin from me,” he responds with a smile, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

But before you get to ask him if he’s sure, or how he knows the date is at Seokjin’s restaurant, he’s already hiding in his room, behind his closed door.

You sigh. Maybe he wants to be alone. To be alone and think it over by himself. Yeah, he’ll be okay.

You don’t do a good job of convincing yourself as you put on your coat and walk to the front door.

He’ll be fine.

20 minutes later, you find your way back into the apartment, throwing your keys on the glass bowl next to the door, taking your shoes off in front of a very confused and suspicious Jimin who watches a movie on the couch.

You take off your coat and plop yourself down next to him, as he keeps on watching you weirdly.

You pick up some of his popcorn, before. “What are we watching?”

Jimin presses his lips together in a poor attempt to conceal the grin threatening to spill all over his lips before he schools his face into a strict expression. “I told you I’d be okay…”

Your eyes are glued to the TV as you feign ignorance. “I know. And I didn’t bail out on him. He did,” you said, sudden interest in the movie piqued.

Jimin’s eyes widen, shuffling on his spot with newly found vigour. “What? You want me to talk to him for you?”

That takes you by surprise. You turn to look at him only to see his eyes stuck to you, as serious as ever. Does he even know Jaehyun?

Oh god, he shouldn’t talk to him.

“Ah, no, no, he didn’t do it on purpose! He just… had somewhere to go. We’ll just reschedule,” you reply knowing full well you’re not gonna do that.

Even if Jaehyun was entirely too eager to do that when you told him you had a family emergency.

Truth is you didn’t drive too far before you yielded and texted Jaehyun to cancel. Thinking Jimin would’ve been stuck at home alone and sulking didn’t sit well with you.

Jimin’s suspiciousness doesn’t leave his eyes but he visibly relaxes. “Oh, if you’re okay then…” he simply says before his smile reappears. Then he goes on to answer your previous question, informing you about the movie playing in the background.

You rest your chin on your palm as you listen to him intently. Absorbed by the excitement in his voice, the glint in his eyes as he explains the plot to a movie he clearly enjoys. His cheeks are flushed, heated up by how quickly he’s talking, voice melodic and excited. His hair falls on top of his forehead, messy and shiny, moving slightly with every tilt of his head when he’s thinking over something. His lips form a pout when he’s uncertain over a specific detail but the truth is you don’t care.

Not about the movie.

It’s towards the end of the movie when you feel Jimin turning towards you.

You copy his actions, turning to face your best friend with a questioning glint in your eyes. “Spill it out, champ.”

Jimin smiles at your words, resting one arm at the back of the couch, behind you. “I just wanted to thank you for staying-”

You gasp, once again pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about. “I told you the date got cancelled, I had to come back! Didn’t you listen, you dingus?”

Jimin’s smile widens, looking away with a low chuckle. “Right…” he says, though not looking very much convinced. “Even so… you being here means a lot, so thank you…” he concludes with soft eyes, a kind of tenderness you’re not used to seeing reflecting in his gaze, at least not directed towards you. But it’s not foreign, not even one bit.

A gentle smile graces your lips as you answer. “Of course. You’re my best friend,” you respond in an as-a-matter-of-fact way while you give him a playful nudge on the ribs.

He chuckles, eyes falling to his lap. “You know, I might be joking about regretting being your friend when you annoy the shit out of me…” you both laugh at that, as you shuffle in your spot, “but if I’m grateful for anything in my life is the years you’ve been a part of it. I wouldn’t risk our friendship for anything. You’re the best friend I could ever have and I hope I’m at least half as good a friend to you,” he concludes, words filled with emotion, even though his voice is serene and soothing.

The display of emotion tugs at your heartstrings but when it’s your turn to return them words fail you. You can’t even begin to put what Jimin means to you into words, newly-discovered feelings put aside. What his friendship means to you, what those years spent together made you cope through and how they changed you, those things are bigger than the strict barrier of words.

So, you do what every self-respected awkward human being would do.

You joke about it.

“Did you swallow a Barbie DVD or something? Where did that come from?” you chuckle in borderline embarrassment, as you try to get off the couch.

“No, Y/N, I’m serious,” he reacts, voice stern as he rests his palm on your leg to stop you from leaving.

Though both pairs of eyes widen at that.

Because you never changed out from the mini black dress and when you moved earlier the fabric had ridden up your thighs.

So now Jimin’s palm lays on the top part of your smooth, bare thigh.

Instant heat washes over you, as you barely manage to mask the gasp bubbling up in your throat. Your eyes fall to his fingers, not daring to meet his gaze as you feel the warmth of his skin spreading through to yours.

Your heart beats wildly inside your chest and there’s a certain, familiar discomfort in the pit of your stomach.

He doesn’t move his hand. You can feel his eyes on you and there are goosebumps where his gaze trails on your skin.

You let your eyes find his own.

You’re not at all ready.

Not for the darkness in them, not for the haziness and tension, certainly not for the dark part in you that tells you there’s more to them than those things. No, not for the intensity and lust hidden in their dark depths.

No, you’re not ready.

But their existence is as tangible as it could ever be.

You can’t move, not an inch and even if you could, you wouldn’t. You’d choose not to. The heat in his stare sends chills down your arms, your cheeks scorching and your gaze falls to his plump lips, a sharp yet quiet inhale escaping you at just a small peek of his tongue.

And then you swear you feel-.

“Sup, guys? How have you been?” Hoseok’s voice fills the apartment as he steps inside from the front door. The sound of his cheerful entrance has you both instantly jumping away from each other in panic.

“Uhm, fine, we’ve been fine!” you struggle to reply, voice an octave higher as Jimin looks away and nods with you.

Hoseok takes off his shoes nonchalantly, not having a single clue about the thick tension in the air when he notices your outfit. He scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. “Did you go somewhere?”

You swallow nervously, foot tapping the floor. “Ah, yeah, I had a date…”

Hoseok looks ever more confused now for some unknown reason. “You did?” he asks, eyes moving to Jimin.

Jimin rushes to explain. “It got cancelled.”

“Ah… I see,” Hoseok replies as if somehow this makes more sense.

But you’re too preoccupied with Jimin’s proximity to question Hoseok’s reaction, instead focusing on trying to appear calm and not at all flustered and worked up as you are. You stand up from the couch as calmly as you can. Though you admit it’s not very much calmly. “Uh, yeah, so anyways I should go change. Goodnight guys!” you mumble quickly, eager to escape and you run off to your room.

Hoseok’s confusion is back when you disappear into your room and he turns to Jimin who also gets up and discreetly readjusts his pants. “What’s up with her?”

“Wouldn’t know. Actually, I’m quite sleepy too, so goodnight!” Jimin rushes to exclaim and then he’s off, walking rushedly towards his room.

Leaving Hoseok alone in the living room and baffled as hell.

Your legs can’t take you into your bedroom any faster and you rush to close the door with a slight lightness of breath.

Oh, god.

What just happened?

Your knees still feel weak, legs trembling and you immediately sit on the floor. Not trusting your limbs to carry you as far as your bed is, eyes and mouth wide in shock as you bring your hands to cool your heated cheeks.

You’re not crazy, you couldn’t have imagined this. You swear it wasn’t just your wishful thinking. No matter how much you want this, there’s no way your mind could have imagined such an intense way of staring. His eyes seemed like black holes, swallowing you whole and you would’ve gladly let him if Hoseok hadn’t interrupted.

Which reminds you. Right before Hoseok walked in you’re certain you felt the edges of his fingertips moving. And not away, as if belatedly realizing of his slip up.

Moving upwards.

“Fuck…” is your breathless realization, biting your lip as heat pools between your thighs. Making you reminisce of your little rendez-vous eight months ago and all the ways he made you feel, of how he felt pressed against you, inside you, drawing moans out of your lips as if it was the last thing he’d ever do.

How his mouth felt against your skin.

You slap some sense into yourself.

No! What were you thinking?! What was he thinking?! He has a girlfriend! A girlfriend whose sudden departure had him feeling upset merely hours ago. Maybe this behaviour was just a cry for attention caused by this event and you shouldn’t encourage it.

There was attraction, that is true. If there wasn’t any attraction between the two of you, you wouldn’t have slept together all those months ago in the first place. But this is not the time, nor the place. Not when he has a girlfriend and not when your feelings are so much more than just that.

It’s bad news and you gotta do your best to nip it in the bud. Crush it before the frustration gets any stronger and threatens to take hold of your sanity.

You let a deep breath infiltrate your lungs. As if the fresh air could bring a new sense of logic, resolve and determination to help you get through this unscathed.

You get up off the floor to get ready for sleep.

Only, it’s close to 4 am and you still can’t sleep.

You fuss around in your bed, the rustling of the sheets the only sound breaking the otherwise calm serenity of your dark bedroom.

You huff in annoyance, throwing the covers off of you, suddenly too warm for your liking. You’ve been trying to sleep for three hours now, but instead of blissful numbness, when your eyes close your mind is filled with the look in Jimin’s eyes from this afternoon. Turning you on despite your best efforts.

You sit up, back on your headboard, hands crossing over your chest as you tap your fingers on your arm. The shorts you wear to sleep feel uncomfortably stifling with sweat and you shuffle quickly out of them.

Only a particular movement has you clenching your thighs from the pleasurable friction on your clit and you bite your lip to keep the moan from spilling out.

Jimin’s dark eyes come to mind once more.

You inhale deeply, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, now dressed in only that and your panties. You bite your lip once more in thought and concealed shame.

You shouldn’t.

But your inhibitions don’t stop you from recalling that night.

{{You throw another shot down with a blissful smile as you watch Jimin do the same, only with significantly less enthusiasm than you. It’s already been one hour since you’ve been here, drinking your guts to help him move on, and already two girls walked away from him. It might be the way he slouches on the bar, droopy face that screams “recently dumped and still in love” but you refuse to leave here tonight without Jimin getting laid. Or at least having some fun.

“Come on, I’m sure someone else will approach you!” you nudge him playfully and Jimin scoffs as he proceeds to order another drink.

“Yeah, right. If anything I’ll just make a fool of myself again…” he grumbles, eyes focused on the empty shot glasses on the bar.

You throw an arm around his shoulders, determined to cheer him up. “Well, it’s because you’ve gotten rusty, bud! Give it some time, you’ll get better!” you observe vigorously, poking his cheek but the gloom expression doesn’t abandon him.

“I don’t think I will…” he mutters, almost too quiet for you to hear, but you do.

“What? Why?” your perplexion is audible in your words and Jimin lets out a breath.

“I just… I don’t get why would anyone bother to approach me. What’s there to like anyway…?” he admits quietly. His eyes avoid yours but you can see the sorrow, the defeat lacing their edges. The response fills you with unbridled rage over how her insistent verbal abuse has seeped into his mind and made him question himself and his worth like this.}}

Even now, that rage hasn’t subsided completely, finding yourself getting pissed at how much his previous relationship with Dinah had ruined him.

{{“Follow me for a second,” you say through gritted teeth as you drag him out of his stool to a more quiet place of the bar.

You step into the hallway that leads to the rooftop with a pretty begrudging Jimin trailing after you. The corridor is currently devoid of people, hence rendering it the perfect spot for what you're about to say.

“Why are we here?” Jimin asks like a weary teenager, crossing his arms on his chest as he rests his body on the wall.

“We’re here because you’re a freaking idiot and people would’ve probably stared if I laid it on you back there! You seriously cannot believe there’s nothing likeable about you!” you scold him with your hands on your waist.

Jimin’s eyes fall to his shoes, a pout forming on his lips.

“Well, there isn’t…” he responds genuinely and you swear you’re gonna swat him with a broom.

“Well, better buckle up soldier ‘cause I’m about to send your princely ass to confidence town,” you declare with ferocity and Jimin regards you with a confused but amused smile.

“So am I a soldier or a prince, I’m confused.”

“You’re both, you’re a prince who served on the front line in the dragon war,” you respond, deciding to humour him, seeing at least that brings a smile back on his lips.

“Is that from your book?” he asks back, a very carefully-hidden smirk gracing his face.

“No, it’s not, I- Hey!” you stop once you realize what he’s been doing, “Stop distracting me! Now stop and listen to me you bastard!” you point your finger at him and his smile shows he’s not in the least sorry.

“People go crazy about you everywhere you go! Seriously you’re the most likeable person I know, I could see that even back in high school when we didn’t hang out as much! You’re just… You’re the most perfect human being ever!” you exclaim with zeal, desperate to make your best friend see himself as you do.

Jimin shakes his head even if a small blush starts to bloom on his cheeks. “Now you’re just messing with me…”

“No I’m not!” you interject, taking a step closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “You’re the kindest and smartest, I mean you passed your college exams with flying colours!” a shy smile graces his lips at that, “And on top of that, you’re so handsome! I mean look at your lips dude! People literally pay to get their lips like this!” an impromptu laugh escapes him and resonates in the empty hall, “And the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh is just plain adorable, but on the other hand girls - and guys - would kill to lick those abs, or have a grasp at your pecs,” you cite all of Jimin’s great characteristics, but in your desire to show him how perfect he is, a slight slip of the tongue happens.

“And your thighs-” you begin but instantly stop, regret filling your mind as soon as you realise what you were about to say.

Truth is you always had a weakness for his thighs. You admit, his body is pretty phenomenal as a whole but his thighs, in particular, are a certain weak spot for you. In shame, you admit you fantasized about them trapping you between them more than once.

But, alas, Jimin catches on that and he stands up straight, a questioning look in his eyes.

“What about my thighs…?” he asks curiously, eyes regarding you with interest as they dare you to continue. You swallow nervously and the movement has Jimin’s eyes glint with sudden realization.

“Um, they… um,” you lose your train of thought as the look in his eyes changes to something darker and he takes a step closer.

“They are...um, toned!...” you say in relief at finding a pretty innocent word but Jimin doesn’t slow down. You take a step back.

“And…?” he demands, not at all satisfied by your explanation, unrelenting and asking for more. He takes another step forward to cover your own, diminishing the distance between you.

“And firm and… sturdy…” you mumble as if in a daze as the predatory glint in his eyes only grows.}}

In real-time, the look in Jimin’s eyes matches the one from earlier tonight and you rub your thighs together for some needed relief.

{{“And…?” he asks, voice low and commanding as he effectively traps you against the wall, palms resting on each side of your face, dark eyes pinning you in place.

You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling a sudden emptiness between your legs as your eyes fall to his plump lips.

“And... thick…” you finish softly, breathlessly as your chest moves quickly with each intake of breath, struggling to keep your head straight.}}

Your hands find their way down your body as if they have a mind of their own.

{{“So you like my thighs then…” he whispers, his breath fanning over your lips, a soft gasp rolling off your tongue.

“I- I don’t…” you don’t even manage to convince yourself and the predatory smile returns on his lips.}}

Your hand rests on the hem of your underwear.

{{“Really?... So…” he trails off, smirk ever-present as he slowly moves his right leg. “... it wouldn’t matter if I did this?....” he teases and presses his thigh against your clothed centre.}}

They move the article of clothing aside to press at your aching clit.

{{You don’t manage to conceal the gasp that trudges over to a moan, as his toned muscle presses against your panty-clad clit underneath your skirt. Your hands fly to grab at his biceps and a low chuckle falls from his lips as his face lowers towards your neck.

Your cunt clenches over nothing and your hips buck into his thigh desperately.

“Do you want more…?” he whispers with a tantalizing hum, intimately beneath your ear and a shiver runs down your spine.

You feel his thigh flexing against you as if teasing you about what’s to come if you say yes.

In your drunken and lust infused mind you can’t find a single reason to say no.}}

Your fingers move slowly, rolling the swollen nub between them as a quiet sigh breaks free from your lips, remembering the way his thigh felt against you. Your movements are soft, careful, not wanting to rush it as even more memories flood your mind.

{{It doesn’t take long for Jimin to take you home after you say yes. You drive back in his car, barely keeping your hands to yourself as he drives. It takes all your willpower not to make him stop the car and ride him in the middle of the street. Instead, you only let one hand palm him through his jeans and the other dive beneath your skirt to toy with your folds. Pleasuring both of you at the same time and having Jimin going completely mad with want, a promise hiding in his eyes as he drives.

Once you reach your building, you’re immediately on each other, not caring who might see. You climb up the old stairs in a haze, hands exploring each other’s bodies, grabbing at the tender part, lips tracing the exposed skin until you reach your apartment. Your back hits the front door, a moan rolling off your tongue and Jimin swallows it eagerly as his lips devour yours.

His hands are rough at your hips, grinding his crotch against you, your bare thighs rubbing against the roughness of his jeans as you blindly search for your keys.

“Could you- could you stop for a second and help me get the door…” you mumble against his mouth when your fingers finally grasp at the metallic key in your pocket.

Jimin doesn’t stop kissing you though. “Honestly, I don’t mind fucking you senseless against it,” he growls at you, biting your bottom lip as his fingers dig into your hips.

“Fuck…” the image his words paint arouse you a great deal more than what you’d like to admit. Your head hits the door as the image floods your mind.

“No, we can’t…” you say, still somehow self-conscious, “People might see…” you mumble with closed eyes as Jimin leaves open-mouthed kisses on your collar bones.

“Let them see then…” he responds with confidence as he grips at your chin and forces you to look at him.

His eyes are hooded, completely dark under his heavy gaze on you. He licks his lips as he stares at you like he wants to ravish you and you lean your head down to capture his thumb between your lips.

You stare at him innocently through your eyelashes, sucking the digit into your mouth. Jimin’s eyes widen even more. You roll your tongue teasingly around him, making sure your eyes remain on him, as he breathes heavily and then you let it go with a loud “pop”.

Jimin stares back at you. Tongue running across his bottom lip before-.

“Fuck, okay, okay. I changed my mind. I don’t want anyone seeing you like this but me.” he curses softly, before taking the keys from your hands to open the door.}}

Your fingers are faster now, soft whimpers falling from your lips. Too quiet for anyone to hear as your other hand travels beneath your T-shirt to grasp at your breast.

{{You’re a mess of limbs and kisses as you stumble towards Jimin’s room. Jackets have been discarded somewhere in the living room and you don’t even bother on closing the door. Hoseok’s is bound to spend the evening at Ana’s, so you don’t have to worry about being quiet either. You have the place to yourselves.

“I want to suck you off, can I suck you off?” you mumble between kisses, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. You can’t wait to feel the weight of his length on your tongue and judging by how he’s straining against his jeans you’d say he can’t wait either.

Another curse rolls from his tongue as he rushes to help you undo the last few buttons. “Yes. Fuck yes,” he grunts in anticipation once his shirt is off.

You push him to sit at the edge of his bed, too impatiently. You kneel between his legs, hands running up and down his thighs as he leans back, palms supporting his weight against the mattress as he stares at you lazily, biting his lip.

You let your eyes wander over the expanse of his smooth chest, taking in the sight of his sturdy muscles, his perked up nipples and his sculpted abs. A high pitched whine escapes you at how absolutely perfect he is. You want to ruin him.

Jimin smirks lazily at you. “Like what you see?”

You only nod, licking your lips and indulging yourself.

You move upwards carefully, placing a few butterfly kisses against his chest, letting your tongue roll over his nipples, which he greatly appreciates if his loud moans are anything to get by.}}

You roll one perked nipple beneath your fingertips. A quiet moan comes off your lips in response and you buck your hips into your hand, aching for something more.

{{You move lower, letting your tongue trail the edges of his abs. The warm muscle drives the man insane by the traitorous pace it takes as his chest rises and falls with every breath.

His hand winds up tangled in your hair, threading through the lock to tug softly at the roots and making you groan in arousal.

You’re quick in unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them downwards until they’re off. Anticipation rolls over you in waves as you move to the waistband of his boxers and Jimin tucks some strands away from your face.

You let his cock spring free and it taps against his stomach. Your mouth salivates at the sight. Pulsating veins run down its shaft, its head a pretty pink, tip glistening with precum and you lick your lips with wanton. He’s not very big, not in length, but the size of his girth seems to compensate for that more than enough. He’s thick, thicker than what you’re used to and even if you had some lengthier ones, you’re sure this one will put them all to shame.

Jimin’s patience runs low and a low whine echoes in his dulcet voice.

“Don’t just stare at it…” he mumbles and for the first time since the club, he sounds almost shy. Something which makes your stomach flip in arousal.

A smirk meets his eyes as you lower your head, his hand still in your locks and you take a tentative lick at the tip.

Jimin lets out a shuddering breath, eyes never abandoning you or your movements as you rest your hands at his thighs for leverage. You keep on teasing him, feeling his muscles tense beneath your palms and a crooked smile paints your lips.

You lower your mouth again, taking his head into your wet cavern and a soft moan breaks free from Jimin’s lips. His hand tightens its grip at your hair, nudging softly forward, not enough to be forceful but enough to clue you into what he wants.

Instead, you hollow your cheeks and a sharp gasp escapes him.}}

Finally, you move your underwear aside to tease your entrance and proceed to insert one finger into your throbbing cunt.

{{You begin moving your head up and down his length slowly, torturously and his eyes roll back into his head as it lols back. You don’t increase your pace, letting your jaw adjust to his wide girth, slowly letting each inch delve into your mouth.

“Fuck…, you-” Jimin tries to talk only for another gasp to tear through his lips as you take him deeper. Coating him with your saliva and hollowing your cheeks again. He moans loudly, his hand rolling your hair into a fist, tugging at the roots as you take him fully, feeling him resting heavily on your tongue.

You pick up the pace steadily, bobbing your head and nails digging into the unmarred skin of his thighs. A hiss tumbles from his mouth in response.

You readjust your position to take off your shirt and bra. You then put more weight into your knees to give your full focus on sucking him off. You keep your cheeks hollowed, going faster and faster, a sturdy grip on Jimin’s bare thighs as your eyes remain stuck on his face.

You swear you’ve never seen anything more beautiful than Jimin’s face as he drowns in pleasure. His eyes are tightly shut, scrunched in concentration to not miss the feeling of your mouth on him. His mouth is agape as he struggles to breathe properly, soft gasps escaping his mouth instead.

It strikes you hard; how magnificently ruined he looks. How absolutely wrecked you have him, and the stickiness in your underwear grows knowing he looks like this because of you.

Then he opens his eyes lazily, orbs lost in desire and as they rest on your bare tits, his hips instinctively buck into your mouth with a cry before he stops himself.}}

You take a quick break to stop yourself from finishing too early and instead pay attention back to your clit.

{{“Fuck, stop for a second…” he breathes out harshly, pushing you away from his cock as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Why?” you say thoroughly confused and Jimin chuckles breathlessly at your puppy stare. He then moves forward to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“Cause I was about to cum on your tits and I’d rather do that inside you…” he whispers against your mouth and you find yourself biting your lip to suppress a moan.

“Now please let me taste you…” he mumbles seductively as he forces you up. You stand up in front of him, his head in level with your breasts. His eyes stare up at you, wide and deceptively innocent before he wraps his mouth around one nipple and rolls it with his tongue. You gasp out loud, arching your chest against him for more. His fingers graze your thighs in the meantime, moving upwards to wrap around your underwear and get rid of it, leaving you bare beneath your skirt.

“I don’t…” another gasp interrupts your words as he runs a finger through your folds. “I don’t think I have the patience for that…” you stutter, hips rolling over his fingers.

A harsh suck at your nipple has you crying out loud, grabbing at Jimin’s locks. While he drives two fingers in you, without warning.

“Fuck, Jimin!” your high pitched protest resonates around the apartment and Jimin curses, moving the two fingers slowly inside you.

“Fuck, you take my fingers so well, baby…” he murmurs against your chest, his low timbre sounding like heaven in your ears. His fingers move slowly against your walls, just barely find your g-spot that has you seeing stars.

“You’re so wet, look at you…” he brings the two fingers between you. They glisten in the soft light of his nightstand, strands of your arousal connecting the two digits as he moves them into a V shape. He stares at them, mesmerised before pushing one digit into his mouth. He moans at the taste, before pushing the other finger towards your lips.

Instead, you grasp at both fingers and suck at them obediently, making sure to suck all your slick from his fingers. Your eyes remain on Jimin, whose eyes almost roll in bliss.

“Okay. Fuck, okay. Get that skirt off and get on the bed,” comes his urgent reply as he all but throws you on the mattress after the skirt has joined the rest of your clothes on the floor.

You lay across his sheets, spreading your legs wide for him and Jimin all but falls on his face trying to take off his boxers, making you giggle in response.

Once they’re off, his movements are more smooth as he steps on to the bed. His eyes are dark, swimming in a pool of desire, never straying away from your face as he crawls towards you. His hands rest on each side of your head, hips pressing against your own as his eyes fall to your lips.

You’re breathing heavily underneath him, chest brushing against him with every breath and you arch your back to press closer against him.

“Do you have a condom…?” you say before biting softly at his earlobe, your hand wrapping sloppily around his thick length.

He bucks into your palm desperately before he nods. He reaches his hand on his nightstand, never leaving the warmth of your body, and grabs the foil package. You take it from him and rip it open with your teeth, too fucked out to wait and Jimin gapes at you as you pretend not to notice the twitch on his dick.

You roll it on him as he lets out a long breath and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Are you sure about this…?” he asks cautiously, giving you one last chance to step back.

You grab at his neck to push him downwards into a kiss. Your lips are rough against him and he presses further, letting his tongue dive into your mouth to find your own. Your kiss is sloppy, urgent, not caring for tenderness. Getting you even more aroused as Jimin instinctively rolls his hips against yours.

“Okay, got it,” is his answer to your kiss. His hand grasps at his cock and giving it a few pumps before sheathing inside you with one sharp thrust.}}

You let two of your fingers dive inside you at the memory, drawing a long moan, quiet enough to be heard only in the confinements of your own room.

{{Both of you moan loudly at the intrusion, feeling complete and utter fullness with the way Jimin is pulsating inside you. It takes a while to get used to him, breathing slowly to help yourself relax as Jimin presses soft kisses to the skin above your breasts.

Soon though his kisses turn hungrier, messier, bordering into bites and you can’t help but moan and clench at the sensation.

Jimin hisses and reacts with another sharp thrust, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull in pleasure.

He starts a brutal pace, slow but rough deliberate thrusts, moving you further into the bed.

He pushes your legs on your chest in a new position, as he leans on top of you and drives his cock even deeper into you. He hits your g-spot almost repeatedly, having you crying out and your eyes well up by how good it feels.

“Fuck, Jimin, fuck, don’t stop…” you cry breathlessly even though Jimin doesn’t seem like stopping anytime soon.}}

In real-time, you pick up the pace of your fingers, driving them deeper to press against your g-spot, as you keep panting upon your sheets.

{{“Fuck. You. Feel. So. Good.” he punctuates each word with a thrust, as they come out in loud, rough growls, eyebrows scrunched in concentration as precipitation gathers at his temples, wet hair hanging in front of his eyes.

You cry out in ecstasy with every rough snap of his hips, shifting your hips to feel more of him, desperate for as much as he can give.

Then Jimin stands upright, grabbing your legs to push them into his chest and away from your own, wrapping around them and using them as leverage. His movements don't stop and he grunts lowly with each thrust, making you see stars each time he hits your g-spot.

He pants above you, driving his hips deeper into you, his muscles taut as he flexes his thighs and his thrusts become even rougher.

“Shit, Jimin…” you plead yet you don’t know what for as his motions make your body move up and down against the mattress.

“What is it, baby? Tell me,” he hisses, eyes furrowed as he stares at your lips. “I’ll give it to you…” he grunts, his thrusts now matching his pants, hands getting tighter at the supple flesh of your hips.

“Jimin, please…” you whine, driving your hand to tap on your clit to clue him in.

He curses again, bating your hand away for one of his own to land against your nub and begin rubbing circles into it.}}

You remove your other hand from your chest to press at your clit as you drive two fingers harshly into your soaked pussy with the other. You feel your high approaching and you don’t dare stop.

{{You scream in pleasure at the added friction, legs moving as Jimin releases them to wrap around his waist. You drive your heels against his ass to press his cock further into you.

“How are you so fucking wet for me, huh? Did my thighs turn you on this much, baby?” he asks harshly as his fingers pick up their pace, sending you into a wholly new sensation.

You moan out loud at his words, nodding your head quickly as if you’ve gone mad. “Yes, fuck, Jimin. I love your thighs, love how thick they are. Wanna rub my cunt all over them, want my clit to go numb with how hard I rub it on them. Want my folds to leak on top of them and stain your jeans. Fuck!” you yelp when your words have Jimin giving a particularly rough thrust.

“Fuck, yeah baby that’s right. Those thighs are gonna make you cum so fucking hard, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” he hisses from above you, spreading your legs, the stretch burning delightful as another groan falls from your hips.

Finally, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming, high-pitched moans echoing inside the room and your cunt begins clenching uncontrollably.

Jimin realises this as his hips move even harder against yours and his fingers are relentless on your clit. “Are you gonna cum baby? Are you gonna cum like the dirty little slut you are?”

His words send you over the edge with a loud cry of his name.}}

You repeat the words over and over in your head until you’re a sobbing mess and come harder than you ever did before pressing your palm on your mouth to prevent any noise from getting out.

You lay on your bed spent and breathless, the memory ebbing away once you’re satisfied and your limbs are relaxed in a blissful numbness.

But, that soon also ebbs away, giving its spot to shame.

You just rubbed one off to Jimin.

And yeah okay you did sleep with him once, but you hadn’t used the memories to pleasure yourself before.

Oh god, this is getting out of hand.

You gotta end this crush of yours before it devours you.

#95line.net #btsguild #bangtan bookclub #kwritersworldnet #jimin scenario #bts scenario #bts jimin scenario #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin bts fanfic #jimin #bts #bts jimin #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst

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livingmybestfictionallife · 3 years

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Live Wire--The Dirt--15

Summary: Wren Ledden, Tommy’s best friend from high school, has had a rough life, and she intends to keep the nitty gritty details of her suffrage to herself until the day she dies. Only Tommy has gotten her to open up about a small portion of her troubles, and it’s only Tommy who she trusts with her life. That is until her life gets turned around sneaking into a concert one night…the same night Motley Crue is born.

A/N: This chapter is a super long filler that’s mostly fluffy, but mentions and discusses self-harm, suicide, and abuse. Additionally, (SPOILERS) there’s mentions of sex and a short sex scene. If it’s not your cup of tea, please know I tried to make it tasteful, but feel free to skip over it.

Also available on AO3

Nikki and Wren had spent the months of 1981 through 1982 as acquaintances who became friends, and slowly learned to live with each other. They'd grown together in ways so silent to one another that when they decided they wanted a relationship, neither quite knew how to act, let alone react to the other admitting they wanted to be more than friends. The night they first kissed didn't follow up with an admission of their feelings, or either of them even saying they had any feelings towards the other at all. It was a simple fact known in their individual hearts that they wanted the other--soul, mind, and body. There was no vocal acknowledgement on either Nikki or Wren's part that they were actively starting a relationship with one another, no discussion of how that relationship should or should not be presented to the rest of the band, no conversation about boundaries or deal breakers, nothing except the fact that they each wanted the other in ways much more intimate than physicality--more intimate than either of them had ever wanted to know another person.

In public, Wren and Nikki acted as they always had with one another--teasing each other and bantering in somewhat arrogant ways--but in their time alone, their conversations became deeper. Even in their relationship, it took time for each to warm up to the other, but as the months ticked by, both Wren and Nikki found it easier to talk about their pasts with the other, easier to talk about their fears, and easier to trust the other with the information being shared.

Nikki had been the first to open up and paint himself in such a vulnerable light. He'd been home alone with Wren one night, discussing philosophy as they sat across from one another on Nikki's bed when Wren asked about a scar that ran vertically along the inside of his forearm. Instead of the nonchalant lie he normally told people, or even a false version of the truth, he slowly and steadily began to relay the horrors of his adolescence to her until he found himself nearly breaking down in front of her. Suddenly, all of the anger and neglect he felt as a teenager came boiling back to the surface, along with the empty feeling of never being enough for the people he loved. He looked down at his arm, noticed the gentle way her fingers traced the scar, and jerked it away from Wren as quickly as he could. At first, he didn't want to tell the truth. He feared what would happen if Wren listened to his side of the story: would she see him any differently? Would she think he was weak and realize she didn't want to be with someone so hopeless? However, before he could allow himself to think too long on these hypotheticals, he took a breath, looked into her eyes, and extend his arm back out for her to see.

"I pulled a knife on myself just to get away from my mother." His voice was flat. unemotional, and hung in near silence through the room before he decided to say more. Before he could stop himself, Nikki had told Wren about the revolving door of his mother's boyfriends and his step-fathers that would torment his life, and although he did note a few of the good ones that gave him hope, Nikki made a point to share with Wren just how horrible his childhood was. He explained how calming it was whenever he found happiness and stability in the life he had whenever he was shipped away to live with his grandparents; however the calm never lasted once she brought him back to the chaotic cycle of neglect and abuse in her household. "I figured if I could get her arrested, I would finally be free from her, but if I died in the process, well, that was also another way out." Wren could feel her heart sink into her knees as she absentmindedly traced the tip of her thumb across the scar. Feeling the mood shift to that of comfort, safety, and serenity, Wren pulled her legs under herself to sit cross-legged on Nikki's bed.

"Tommy doesn't like to talk about this, but I owe him my life," Wren said softly and found herself growing weaker the longer she looked into those light, hazel-green eyes of Nikki's. "I swallowed a bunch of pulls--some painkillers. some sleep-agents, some I don't even know what the hell they were. I had completely forgotten he was supposed to come over that day, and when he came in, I had passed out. It didn't take a genius to figure out what I had done, so he jammed his fingers down my throat until I'd thrown up and then rushed me to the hospital. I could see how much I hurt him by doing that when I woke up after having my stomach pumped, and it honestly made me feel so much worse about trying to kill myself. As much as I wanted to die then, I'm grateful Tommy saved me. Somehow, he continues to save me."

Wren and Nikki continued to learn how to be vulnerable with others through each other, and as their conversations deepened, so did their passion--for one another, for music, for the band. It was curious for Wren to see how close she'd become with Nikki throughout the beginning of their relationship, yet their interactions with one another in front of the band remained unchanged. She wondered how could part of the pair stay the same during such a drastic change in their personal lives, but part of her knew that their public interaction with one another had been the foundation of their romantic relationship. No change was necessary, there was no need to show what they felt or to announce it for that matter, because they each held one part of the puzzle that was their feelings. Together, they just clicked.

Mick had been the first to find out about Wren and Nikki's hidden relationship about ten months after they had gotten together. The couple had been drinking and smoking pot--Wren only a few puffs here and there to keep the buzz alive, and Nikki blowing through multiple joints at a time to reach the high he'd given up getting through coke due to his promise to her. It was a normal weekday night where they had been left alone due to Vince wanting to take Tommy to the strip clubs late at night. It was always during these times of solitude that Nikki found writing to be most productive, and this productivity only escalated when Wren was around to help him.

Wren sat on the couch with her feet kicked up, and a glass of wine in her hand as she passed the joint back to Nikki who continued to pace through the room. A half-eaten pizza sat on the makeshift coffee table, and beer bottles were littered about the pizza box. Mick had decided to drop by the apartment on a whim. He'd made tentative plans with someone he knew in the area only for them to decide to bail on him only after he'd driven out to the strip. Walking into the scene, everything appeared normal to Mick: Wren and Nikki were having their bickering matches over either lyrics or chords, and she seemed like she was wearing him down until he quipped back with some sarcastic remark that helped no weight when it came to Wren, because he knew that if she was criticizing something, it was for a good reason. Mick took a beer Nikki had offered him, pulled a seat up to the coffee table, and started in on what remained of their pizza. He played a few riffs that Nikki had asked him to in order to better who Wren his vision which she "was refusing to see." Then, he would play the altered version of Nikki's riffs that Wren had rewritten, and together, Mick and Wren convinced Nikki hers were better.

It wasn't until Mick glanced up from the pages of notes Nikki had put in one of Mick's hands and the pizza in the other, that he noticed Nikki stop pacing, make his way towards the pizza, pick up two slices, hand one to Wren, and then plant a soft peck on her cheek before he walked away. Mick silently smirked to himself as he smugly bit into the slice of pepperoni pizza in his hand. It was such a domestic thing, a moment of sweetness that no one ever got the chance to see either of these two rough and rugged people express, and it was this knowledge that kept Mick from bringing it up. He had briefly known Wren for a time when she was hardly thirteen, and even from that encounter, he knew she wasn't one to express her feelings. Hell, since meeting her again with the band, Mick still hadn't seen her be soft with anyone besides Tommy, and he never thought he'd see the day when Nikki Sixx of all people would be so docile with another person.

Mick ended up staying until the early morning hours practicing new songs with Nikki, conversing about theology, becoming a moderator for Wren and Nikki's differing points of view, discussing a variety of topics, and entertaining themselves with a variety of drinks. Shortly before three forty-five, Mick decided it was time to head home and get some rest, but on his way out, he forgot he had pledged to himself he wouldn't mention the little moments of soft, sweet, domestic life that Nikki and Wren had gifted one another with throughout the night.

"I'm glad you two found each other," he said as he made his way to the door. "You git each other well. Just don't hurt her, Sixx, or I'll hurt you."

Tommy was the next to learn Nikki was in a relationship, however they were able to keep Wren's involvement in that relationship a secret for a bit longer than anticipated. Tommy came home early one night from a family dinner with his parents and sister, and he quickly learned Nikki had a girl over thanks to the sound of the bed rhythmically hitting the wall and the heavy breaths that hung in echoes through the apartment. He quickly left the apartment, returned to his parents' house, and waited an hour to phone back home.

"Hello?" Wren asked through her shortness of breath as she answered the phone.

"Hey, Wren, you okay?" Tommy asked upon hearing her panting into the phone.

"I just got done working out," Wren sighed into the line as she leaned against the kitchen wall wearing only one of Nikki's shirts.

"Oh, my bad! Was today a cardio day or something?"

"Yeah, today's cardio day," she responded as a smirk fell over her face. With a laugh hiding in her lungs, she eyed Nikki where he sat on the counter, a bowl of cereal in his hands and a chuckle on his lips.

"When I got back an hour ago, Nikki was...occupied...with a girl. Is it safe to come back?" Tommy asked without a thought in his mind about Wren possibly being the woman Nikki was with.

"It's just me and Nikki at the house now, so I'd assume it's safe for you to come back," she said and watched the playful chuckle on Nikki's face fall to a sultry smirk as he waited for Wren to hang up the phone and return her attention to him. "Tommy's headed back now, so I think we have time for one more round if you make it quick."

For another three months, Wren and Nikki kept up the joke of Nikki having some mystery girlfriend whenever they were around Tommy. Nikki went so far as to leave a pair of Wren's underwear in his laundry for Tommy to find, knowing he wouldn't suspect they were hers. Wren went out of her way to buy a shade of lipstick Tommy would never expect her to wear in a million lifetimes so she could smudge a kiss on Nikki's lips or cheeks or neck, only to wipe all remnants of a the color from her face, only to keep the joke alive. Tommy didn't become fully aware of who Nikki was dating until he heard splashing water and those heavy, sexy breaths coming from the bathroom one afternoon. He decided to wait in Wren's room rather than leave this time, and after a few minutes, he could hear the shower turn off and people exit. Once he was certain Nikki had brought his guest back into his room, and that they were clothed, Tommy emerged from the bedroom only to see Wren sitting in the living room.

"When did you get home?" Tommy asked her as he sat down beside her as she thumbed through a book.

"I've been home, where have you been?" The question left her mouth without a second thought.

"I've been in your room waiting for Nikki to stop fucking his girlfriend in the shower," Tommy grumbled as he kicked his legs over Wren's lap and titled his head back as he heard Nikki walk down the hall towards the living room. "Other people live here too, Sixx!" Tommy shouted out. "Just take it to her place like I do most nights." With a smirk playing on both Nikki and Wren's lips, Tommy's eyes quickly flashed back to his best friend. Her nose was buried so deeply in the book that she was sure her expression wouldn't give away her secret, but her hair was a different story. The soaked brown strands fell around her shoulders in wet waves, and Nikki's black locks were no different. With a quick glance between Wren and Nikki, Tommy's eyes and moth widened. "Oh, shit!" he cried out in realization and then jumped up and trapped Wren in a hug. "Nikki, you better not just be fucking my best friend!"

"I'm not," Nikki grumbled in response as he reentered the room to see his girlfriend tangled up beneath the mess of limbs that was his drummer. His girlfriend...the words still hadn't left his mouth since the pair started their relationship over a year ago, yet they felt so right hearing them in his head.

"If you so much as make Wren cry, I'll end every part of you, Sixx," Tommy tried to threaten Nikki as he eagerly hugged both of his friends in excitement.

"Get in line! Mick has first dibs," Nikki grumbled as he broke free from Tommy's grasp and fell into an armchair to allow Tommy to sit with Wren.

"Mick's known before me? You two are shitty friends for that," Tommy huffed as he threw himself back down and put his legs over Wren again.

"Not to Mick, apparently," she smirked only to have Tommy lightly kick her arm, which caused her to drop her book. "Seriously thought, T. we didn't say anything to anyone."

"Well," Tommy sighed as he locked eyes with Nikki, "how long then?"

"How long since what? Since Mick found out?"

"No, how long have you been fucking my best friend?" Tommy had a faux bitterness in his voice that his excitement over Wren and Nikki being together couldn't hide.

"Dude, she's like your sister! Do you really want to know that?" Nikki asked as he tried not to laugh at how happy he was that Tommy was this excited for him and Wren.

"You're my friend too, Nikki, so guy-to-guy, how long have you been fucking my surrogate sister?" Wren smirked at how red Nikki's ears became under his jet-black hair as he realized he was being forced to answer the question.

"Only a few months, but we kind of started going out on dates a little over a year ago." Wren bit her lip softly as she heard the words leave Nikki’s mouth. She didn’t expect him to be honest with Tommy about the timeframe of their relationship and its relation to their timeline of intimacy, simply because she knew how the guys were. Tommy had a new girl almost every week as teenagers, and now it seemed he was making the acquaintance of a new girl almost every night. Vince was still technically dating Lovey, but each night he found himself either at a strip club, or fucking a fan before a show. Nikki was definitely a looker, and Wren wasn’t ignorant or naïve enough to think she was anywhere close to his first. Although he wasn’t truly hers, he was the first to not pressure her into something she wasn’t ready for,; he was the first man she wanted to be with, and even then, it was nerve-wracking for her to admit her fears and reservations about sex to Nikki.

Nikki would have taken Wren to bed the night they first kissed had she been anyone else, but he knew enough about her to know not only would that never happen, and trying to do so would be a terrible move on his part. Getting her to open up about what happened in her past with Clay was damn near fucking impossible, and he wasn’t ever going to pry that out of her. He figured that with time, she’d feel safe enough to come to him about it, and until then, he’d just test the waters and see what she was comfortable with. Very slowly, she grew to trust more of her body to Nikki, and each time she did, he tried to show her true pleasure without asking of anything in return. He thought things were fine between them sexually and knew she would eventually come around and either talk to him or feel safe enough to take the next step with him. However, one night roughly five months ago, as Nikki’s hands found themselves around Wren’s waist while she lay next to him in his bed, he could feel a hot tear somehow transfer from her face to his.

“Wren, what’s wrong?” The lights were off in the room, but Nikki swore he could see Wren’s sorrow radiating from her heart. “Come on doll, talk to me,” he said as he pressed his lips to her temple. For a while, she remained unmoving in his arms as his breath traveled gently down her neck and he waited for her response.

“You’re being too good to me, Nikki,” she sighed through a small hitch in her breath. “And I want you! I mean, I really, really want you, I just—”

“Wren, we don’t have to have sex right now if you’re not ready,” Nikki tried to say despite the pulsing in his groin.

“I want to, Nikki, I really want to, it’s just—”

“You went through something hard that you don’t have to talk about, Wren.”

“Clay forced me into a lot, and tying me to a bed while he forced himself on me after I screamed and begged for him to stop is something hard,” she said through anger as the tears slowly stopped falling from her face. “But I don’t want some fucking asshole taking something from me to keep me from wanting to be with you.” Nikki traced small circles on Wren’s back as she leaned into him with her arms wrapped around his shoulders. After he felt her breathing subside, Nikki pulled her even closer to him and whispered softly into her ear.”

"I'm never going to expect something from you, Wren. You should know by now that you don't have to change a thing about you to be special to me."

"Nikki, I know I put up a front, and--"

"You don't, Wren. I know you think you're just playing a part of the badass rock and roll chick, especially when life's being a bitch and you're feeling more vulnerable than you care to admit, but just because shit happens to you doesn't mean you're not that badass. You are one of the only people I can hold an intellectual conversation with, you're defiantly strong willed even though it causes us to butt heads, you're so talented and insightful that I'm ashamed to admit to the fear in the back of my mind that, without you, the band wouldn't be what I can feel it's becoming, and most importantly, you are the single most incredible woman I've ever known. Just so we're clear, you will never have to change anything about yourself for me. I just want to let you know that I’m here when you’re ready, and until then, I don’t mind continuing to show you that I’m not going to push you into anything.”

Wren had her eyes pressed closed as he spoke, but when she opened them, she could see the moonlight fall over his clear skin and dance in his light eyes. Before she could think about her next steps, her lips were on his as she pulled him over her and she lay her back against the bed. She’d wanted this for so much longer than she thought she had and was surprised by how gentle Nikki was with her. Everything about their first time was different than either could have expected. Normally, sex wasn’t something Nikki had to wait for, and was almost always was quick, rough, and near emotionless; however, Wren wasn’t one of the random hookups or cheap dates he was looking to get a quick lay out of. He wasn't lying when he said she was special, but he didn't quite understand how special until then.

Part of Nikki knew his soul was drawn to Wren’s the second she stepped around him and paced out of the men’s room and into the bar, and then again when she made her way through the diner to his table and sat down defiantly across from him. There was a fire in her that drew him to her like a moth to a flame, and it wasn’t long since they met that he knew he’d do anything for her.

From the second they became one, Wren was weak and trembled under Nikki’s weight and touch as she clung to him so desperately. Every motion they made together caused her heart to swell in her chest and her walls to come crumbling down. Nikki sighed heavily and his breath trickled down Wren’s neck and chest as he stared at how beautiful her skin looked as the light from the moon fell over her body as it lay beneath him.

“You’re so beautiful, Wren,” Nikki sighed against her ear as he pressed his bare chest against hers, “so fucking beautiful.” He could feel himself getting close to finishing as he looked into Wren’s eyes and saw them locked on his. The way her mouth hung open as she gasped with each slow thrust he took made him weak, and he felt a pull in his stomach when a soft, longing gasp fell from Wren’s lips. As her nails clasped into his back and her legs tightened around her waist, Nikki couldn’t hold back any more. A low moan escaped his lungs as he felt her clench around him before he collapsed onto her on the bed and got lost in the smell of coconuts as he buried his face in her hair.

It wasn’t long after Tommy found out about Wren and Nikki that Vince was clued into the little secret that had been floating around in the band. He’d finally been caught cheating on Lovey just before a show one night, and despite being upset for about half a second, after the show he wasted no time in making a pass at Wren.

“So, now that Lovey’s gone and you’ve forgiven me for the bullshit in high school, what do you say about getting a drink?” He asked as he tried his hardest to keep his words from slurring. Tommy and Nikki had left her, Vince, and Mick at a table in one of their regular bars—one that her great uncle or one of his friends didn’t own—to get another round of drinks. Wren tried her hardest not to laugh at Vince’s proposition, so she directed her attention to Mick, who was smugly smirking across the table with his eyes narrowed on her. “And not just like this. I mean without the guys as chaperones.”

“Hey singer, I don’t think that’s a great idea,” Mick chimed in after Vince drunkenly ignored Wren shaking her head.

“And why is that? Are you trying to play the long game with her, mister two-kids-and-an-ex-wife?” Vince snarled.

“That’s pretty big talk for the guy who knocked up a girl in high school and hasn’t seen his own kid in who knows how long,” Wren snapped back.

“Damn, Wren. I’m just trying to be nice and ask you out!” Vince grumbled as he finished the drink before him and glanced up to see what was taking Nikki and Tommy so long with the next round.

“And I’m just saying don’t bother,” Mick again tried to intervene on Wren’s behalf in order to keep her and Nikki’s relationship under wraps.

“And why is that?” Vince repeated his question again in a mocking tone as he stared down the guitarist across the booth from him.

“Because Sixx would kick your ass,” Mick muttered as he took a swig of his beer and narrowed his eyes on Vince.

“Sixx? Oh, come on, he hasn’t done shit to try and get with her in the damn year and a half of knowing her. Shit, if he wants her, he’s gotta work quicker than whatever he’s been doing. I’ve waited long enough for him to make his move,” Vince huffed just as Nikki and Tommy returned with the group’s drinks. With a smirk playing on Wren’s lips, as Nikki slid back into the booth beside her, she brought a hand to the base of his head, pressed her lips firmly against his, and smiled into the kiss as she felt his hands fall onto her waist.

“Hey, babe,” she said upon pulling her face from his and seeing Nikki’s taken aback expression.

“What did I do to deserve that?” he asked in sultry tone that was meant to be under his breath but was loud enough for the table to hear.

“Vince was asking me out so I figured it was about time we just let this cat out of the bag,” she said as her fingers wrapped around the chilly glass he’d just brought her.

“Are you fucking kidding me? How long did I miss the window to make a move on you?”

“You’ve over a year late, Vinny,” Tommy said with a laugh in his voice as he saw his two best friends in a new light. Sure, Nikki had been the only other person besides himself who could get away with being physically affectionate with Wren, even before they were a couple. Tommy had noticed since the early months of the band’s existence the subtle ways Nikki would sit closely to Wren on the couch, the way his arm would find its way around her shoulders, the way she would gently rest her head against his, he’d seen it all, but something was different the moment Tommy saw Nikki pull Wren closer to him in the booth, rest his chin on her head, and glare over her at Vince as he spoke.

“Were you seriously just trying to hit on my girlfriend?” Nikki’s gravely voice rolled through the air and caused Wren’s heart to rise as if it were a helium balloon. As the last word of his sentence fell from his lips, Nikki could feel his lungs deflate, his cheeks grow warmer, and his stomach twist into knots. Almost instantly, he became even more aware of her body language—the way she was positioned against him, the amount of pressure she placed on him as she leaned her torso into his, the way her jaw felt as it rested on his shoulder. It was as if his were dialed up to their max so he could detect any non-verbal indication of what he said being either a good or bad move on his part. He didn’t want to have the “what are we?” talk with her because he had been damn near certain that they were a couple—not two people who were dating, not just friends, not even friends that had sex. To him, the second they kissed in the hallway that night over a year ago, they were a couple. Thankfully, the way Wren gently folded herself against him, leaned further into his embrace, and lightly traced circles with her thumb on his thigh was enough to convince him that they were on the same page.

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cursedcleopatra · 3 years

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Can I ask you for advice on something really personal to me? I don’t really feel that comfortable talking about it with friends bc I just know they won’t know where I’m coming from tbh.

2 years ago my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer...I was shocked and scared of course and had no idea what to expect. During this time I started a new job which I worked 12 hours every day and barely saw my mom. Even so, my relationship with her has almost been non existent most of my life so it confused me so much bc although I was so scared and prayed for her health and recovery there was never a bond or closeness between us for me to really know how to be there for her or help. I’m Asian American and in most cases there really isn’t a family bond or love/affection in Asian households. It was very cold in my family environment, my dad is physically violent and an angry bastard whose told me to die on various occasions. For my whole life I rarely saw my mom, she was a great mother in terms of providing us with food and buying clothing but not much else as far as motherly love and warmth. I truly can’t remember any conversation where she’s not asking me about work/school/finances. I know she did the best of what she could. I used to be very angry bc she didn’t protect me from my dads abuse and couldn’t show me the love I desperately needed. Because of this and our lack of a bond I felt so lost when she was diagnosed, bc of that and my working so much I felt like I failed as a daughter. I didn’t know how to be compassionate bc I was still healing my own childhood traumas. I felt guilty bc I feel like I had a duty to take care of her or show feeling but the way I was raised and bc I had no initial bond w her in the first place it was so hard to suddenly conjure up some kind of emotion when nothing was ever there regardless of her sickness or not. That’s why I felt so guilty bc I didn’t know how to help. Is this normal? Am I a shit person for not knowing how? Thankfully she’s recovered from chemo and is now healthy, I just want to know how I can stop being stuck in my mindset of resentment and anger. I feel so ungrateful bc some people have lost loved ones due to cancer and my mom is still here yet I feel still as distant as ever. She works from 9am til 8pm everyday at a nail store. It’s always been like that, even before the sickness since I was in middle school. I have no idea where I can even find time to bond with her or mend our relationship. It’s hard bc I never had a relationship with my dad so not having my mom hurts more. I just feel so lost and alone. It seems like a waste of time, Asian American families think showing emotion is weak and I know she won’t see eye to eye. Hard to fix a relationship that was never even there in the first place.

Wow, it feels like I’m watching myself in this, anon. The same exact situation happened to me, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer 2 years ago as well and we never had a relationship, she’s actually very abusive, and I went through the same exact feelings you’re describing. I completely understand where you’re coming from, and yes, it’s normal and you’re not alone. You’re absolutely not a shit person, in my culture as well it’s considered weak for a parent to be gentle and caring to their child. This naturally creates a lot of resentment and regret, and I know how hard it is to come to terms with all that unresolved anger and feelings of abandonment, especially when the parent would never take your feelings seriously. Please don’t blame yourself for feeling this way, I remember going through that and it made me absolutely miserable too. Wanting your mother’s affection is a deeply human thing, and being deprived of it would make anyone react as you are and as I did. I understand part of the guilt comes from the fact that she’s provided for you in other ways, but you can appreciate and be grateful for that and also feel emotionally neglected, those two feelings are both very valid and can coexist with one another. I think both of us deeply understand that this isn’t something that can be solved by talking to the parent, so the only thing I can tell you is how I’ve learned to look at it differently. The way your mom treats you is probably how her mother treated her as well, and she’s going through her own trauma and she’s just living the only way she knows how. None of that is your fault, but similarly it’s not really her fault either. She doesn’t know how to live any other way. The only thing we can hope to do is break the cycle, we may never have that relationship with our mothers but that doesn’t mean we can’t find it in ourselves to have the empathy to forgive them. And yes, it’s extremely hard sometimes and it’s easy to regress, but looking at her as a victim rather than as my abuser has helped me work through the feelings you’re talking about. Please feel free to message me or leave a message in my inbox any time, I’m here for you if you ever need to talk ❤️

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angelmichelangelo · 3 years

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(Part 1)

Personally I could understand the having kids thing going either way for Dan. Phil definitely seems like the type who would want kids, but when you grow up in a dysfunctional household like Dan did it gets more complicated.

For example, personally I come from a family with a long history of abuse, and it frightens me that I could pass that on. That + health issues means I’ll never have biological children, but I’m still partially on the fence about adopting. I love children and babies, and they love me back. But interacting with children is different when you’re a parent than elsewise. Like, breaking the cycle of abuse is incredibly difficult. Even if I think I would be a great parent I can’t guarantee that under stress I wouldn’t revert back to the abusive behaviors that were taught to me. My parents were abusive, their parents were abusive, their parents were abusive... who the hell knows how much further back it goes. Not me. All I know is that all the remembered generations have been abusive. So not only is the behavior passed on, on an epigenetic level I’m sure it’s affected my DNA- which is another factor in not having biological children. Even if I know that I love children and there’s a good chance I could be a great parent, there’s also a significant chance that I would end up a toxic parent and boy do I not want to be responsible for ruining someone’s life.

(Cont.)

(Part 2)

There’s also another factor which I want to bring up. I bring this up because me and Dan are very similar people, and if any of the other patterns hold true I’m sure he feels the same way about this as I do so even though it’s sort of niche I’ll bring it up.

I have moral issues with bringing children into this world. I’m sure part of it is influenced by my own mental & physical health + being s*icidal most of my life, but a lot of it is just my personal moral outlook.

Most of it comes down to bodily autonomy. Why does bodily autonomy matter to people in other situations but not regarding life? When you have a kid you force them into life. They don’t get a chance to consent to being born. You throw them into this world that’s full of cruelty and requires them to work tirelessly to keep themselves alive. Meanwhile whether or not they want to be alive doesn’t matter. Society values life over all else. You are forced to work to survive even if you don’t want to survive. Because other people’s feelings on your survival matter more than your own feelings.

I’m not saying I think s*icide is the right answer, or that no one should enjoy being alive. What I am saying is that us forcing people to stay alive is morally wrong. It really, really bothers me that people “save” people who attempt s*icide. Against their will. Sure, some people express regret afterwards and are thankful that they were saved. But that applies to all bodily autonomy issues. I think what someone does with their body should be their choice, full stop.

The combo of A: bringing someone into this world without their consent & B: not giving them the option to leave this world really seems fucked up on a bodily autonomy level. And I feel like I wouldn’t want to contribute to forcing another person into a situation where they lack bodily autonomy. Me and Dan tend to agree on moral/philosophical stuff (among many things) so I wouldn’t be surprised if this is also a factor for him on if he wants kids.

----

i get what you’re saying with this, and of course, you’re allowed to have your own opinion and i respect that. but i think that it is worth bearing in mind that we do not have a full picture of dan’s upbringing. of course, he’s shared both good and bad and whilst BIG gave us a good insight to what his childhood and teen years was like, we don’t know the entire story on his relationship with his parents, and whether it was dysfunctional or not. but i do agree that abuse in childhood can have a massive chainreaction on your own future and what paths you take and which ones you don’t - that’s definitely true.

but i’d have to disagree with you about that whole suicide part? mainly because i personally don’t think it’s wrong to want to help and support loved ones through crises that involve those kinds of dark thoughts. of course, there should be better access to mental health support for sure! but i don’t think it’s really “forcing” people to live when you just want the best for people. if it were me, and someone reached out to me, saying they were suicidal (and people have, on a few occasions), i would do everything in my power to help them and make sure they didn’t do that. i wouldn’t see that as taking away their choice or forcing them to live. i’d want them to survive and make a better life for themselves because of it, because i love them and of course i don’t want them to die. but everyone has a mind of their own and you can’t exactly save everyone but the whole argument of “kids didn’t ask to be born!” kinda... idk. is meaningless to me because.. well. everyone on earth is in the same situation. nobody ever asked to be born. that’s just how life goes. so who do we blame then? our cavemen ancestors? you can’t ask a sperm for consent nor an egg so... what do you do then? ask a kid when they’re old enough to talk: hey you wanna live or not?

i do get the point you’re trying to make here, which, correct me if i’m wrong is: it seems likely that the impact of some of the trauma dan has shared with us over time would suggest that having children wouldn’t be a huge interest for him.

and you could be right! but i know a lot of people that did go through traumatic childhoods, or have bad relationships with their parents, that actually made them want to have children even more, as if to make sure that their kids didn’t get treated the same way that they did growing up and to kinda break that cycle of abuse. it happens a lot!

so there’s two sides to it really. and if that’s your own personal opinion on your own outlook on your own life, that’s perfectly okay and there’s no judgement on how you feel about your own choices in life.

but we can’t really say that the same choices apply to dan, because like we were discussing last night: dan’s never really given us an update on the feelings on having children. the last time he mentioned it was years ago, and those feelings can always be altered and changed, but we’ll never know unless he actually told us how he felt on the matter.

your choice is your own choice. if you don’t want kids, that’s fine. if dan and phil don’t want kids, that’s fine too. i’m cool with that and yknow, kudos to the people that put themselves first rather than giving in and going along the required “steps” of life that society kinda forces us into: marriage, babies, house, blah blah blah. but whilst i agree with that, there are parts of this that i would say would be unfair to use as a surface blanket on everyone’s choices, and we can just agree to disagree because this is an open discussion on the matter but i hope what i’ve said has made sense and it’s not all just ramblings lol :)

#ask #tw abuse mention #tw suicide mention #parent!phan

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umbraja · 4 years

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Screaming into the Void

I write for half an hour almost every morning. Not fiction. More like a transcription of the conversations I have with myself trying to untangle whatever pressing thoughts kept me up that night. I do this because I’ve learned the hard way that people don’t want to hear what’s in my head. Or at least the ones I talk to are tired of hearing it. Unfortunately talking about it makes me feel better. It helps me process and make sense of this absurd world we all live in. So I write instead.

If I could afford a therapist I’m pretty sure she would say that’s a good thing. Healthy coping mechanism. Therapists like it when people write about their thoughts. Journaling helps get ideas out, forces you to slow down enough to actually think about them, and being written down can help you remember it later. I get that. Journaling really is good therapy and I recommend it for everyone.

I just find it hard to understand why people don’t like talking about the things in my journal. But then I also don’t understand why people do most of what they do. I am Autistic so I don’t really get “normal” things.

“I’ve spent a lifetime being told to shut up”

My journal isn’t normal either. It’s not full of hopes, dreams, or even nightmares. It rarely talks about myself or my day and then only to exemplify a broader subject. Its entries are not addressed “Dear Diary” or to my future self or even some imaginary friend. The intended audience is most often all of humanity, or at least America. It reads like a collection of academic papers or editorials on a wide range of topics. I often end up doing research for these articles, as if they might someday be published in a very strange magazine.

But they never will be. I’ve been convinced that no one wants to hear what I’m trying to say. I’ve spent a lifetime being told to shut up about it. Stop being so paranoid/alarmist/negative. It’s rude to point that out. Or my favorite - No one cares about that. So I go through life observing patterns, taking note of things that normal people are too busy or afraid to see. And I do nothing with it.

Part of me hates that. The part that hasn’t given up yet. I really think it could do some good if people would just listen to what I have to say once in a while. Not that any of it is revolutionary. I’m no genius. It’s probably all been said a dozen times by people smarter than me. But good ideas bear repeating and it wouldn’t hurt to hear them again. Especially with all the bad ideas going around these days.

“Does anyone out there want to listen?”

This will probably go nowhere. I’m just screaming into the void after all. But I wonder - does anyone out there want to listen? So I’m writing today, for a lot more than half an hour, to ask anyone who sees this if they want to read my journal. Most of it’s not even finished. I usually give up once the crushing reality that no one cares starts to outweigh my need for connection. But if anyone is interested I will gladly finish whatever article they would like to read and publish it here for the world to see.

Pick an Article and I’ll Post It:

2020: Vindication for Losing My Mind in 2016

How to Find Meaning in a World That Doesn’t Make Sense

Apparently Making Everyone Live My Lifestyle Collapses the Economy

Workplace Inequality: I’ve Hit the Autistic Glass Ceiling

The Importance of Art in Civilization: Unifying Self Expression

How to Make CBD at Home and Why it May not be Legal

The Pandemic Showed Me How Stressful Being Normal Really Is

I Hated Social Media Before it Was Cool

Generational Poverty: the Engine of Systemic Racism

Sorry State of Women’s Health: Endometriosis Sucks

Historiography of the End of Civilization: from Sumeria to Us

How to Fix American Schools: Respect Different Intelligences

How Branding Made Zoom a Household Name though Discord is Objectively Better

When Were We Great? History of American Exceptionalism

Aquaponics: Making Fish Feed the World

That’s the Way it Is: Abuse, Neglect, and ASD

How to Fix Capitalism: Recipes for Eating the Rich

The Relationship Cycle: Why I Can’t Keep Friends

American Politics: Eerily Similar to Divorced Parents

My Father the Man-child: Growing up with a Narcissist

The World Would be a Better Place if Liberals Understood Branding

Body Hair Positivity: Good or Gross?

Rose Colored Glasses Prevent Migraines - Not a Metaphor

OK Boomer: Explaining to My Parents How Much Easier They Have It

When Fanworks Were Mainstream and How That Changed

What’s Wrong with Academia and How to Fix It

Being Moderate in America: So I’m a Liberal Now?

Conservative Hypocrisy: Quantity over Quality of Life

Liberal Idiocy: Being Right Doesn’t Win the Fight

Conservative Hypocrisy: Law and Order not Protect and Serve

Liberal Idiocy: It’s Hard to be Woke When You’re Poor

Conservative Hypocrisy: What Would Jesus Really Say about America?

Liberal Idiocy: Slactivism’s False Sense of Accomplishment

Conservative Hypocrisy: How to Sneak Facism into a Democracy

Liberal Idiocy: One Size Does Not Fit All

Conservative Idiocy: Private Gun Owner vs the US Military

Liberal Hypocrisy: Social Justice Warriors

Perceived Reality: We Really Do Live in Different Worlds

Standing Still: Paralyzed by Emotional Shutdown

American Sheeple: Generations of Domestication

Depression. It’s a Lifestyle.

How to Survive in a World That Doesn’t Want You

Leave a comment to let me know what you'd like to read. If anything.

#mental health #politics #poverty #history #editorial #screaming into the void

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ablanariwho · 4 years

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Anatomy Of Male Rage In Patriarchy

Has patriarchy really empowered men by legitimizing anger as a trait of manhood? Or has it weakened their emotional maturity? A weakened emotional intelligence is damaging both for them and other members of their families and society at large.

Both men and women are victims of the system. Knowingly or unknowingly either they play the role of a perpetrator or a facilitator of this victimhood.

Let me start with a story

I heard about male rage quite early in my life. I also got to know how women got conditioned to put up with their male partners’ unmanaged anger as a regular part of their lives. My grandmother would tell me this story about a woman named Lakshmi, the wife of one of my grandfather’s residential staff. Lakshmi used to come home and chat with her. Sometimes my grandmother would found her little unmindful or low. She would ask her why. Laxmi would sigh and say in a sad tone that she doubted her husband was not in love with her anymore. She would express her concern that he might be getting into an affair. On a little probing about what made her think so, she would confide to my grandmother that her husband had not been beating her as frequently as he used to. She believed that beating was an extended-expression of marital love and a husband’s right to his wife. It fostered intimacy and trust between them. It maintained the marital equation as it was ideally supposed to be. Often, on the same or later nights, the husband would ‘make love’. Soon another bundle of joy would make its way into the family. Strangely, a grieving woman often arouses lust, and not compassion in some men. They find a sadistic pleasure in forcing sex on their wives even before the hapless women could recover from the pain of physical and emotional abuse. Despite feeling uncomfortable and unwilling, women often get carried away. They mistake it for ‘love’. Even so, sex in such scenarios in the pretence of making up for the violence is often nothing but another way of asserting male dominance over women. This way, they do not want to give women the time and space to heal or ponder over what happened. On some occasions, the encounter amounts to marital rape if the woman shows reluctance or resistance. According to Lakshmi, it was a wife’s duty to put up with the torture and abuse. She believed it would help the man release his stress and pain due to the day-long toil he needed to do for his family. She perceived her husband as a guardian, sort of father figure, a master. According to her, he was entitled to his right to ‘fix’ her by scolding and beating her if she committed any mistake. The mistake could be as trivial as putting less salt in a dish or forgetting to stitch a broken button on his shirt. She also believed having sex with her husband right after the violence was necessary to retain the marriage. Because it is a woman’s only power to keep the man hooked on her and not drift away. Years later I heard the same stories during my fieldwork while doing a course in counselling. The NGOs working for women empowerment in slum areas of the economic capital city of Mumbai shared similar experience. That is how the marital cycle of love lost and found again have been maintained forever in many households.

This is just one example. It shows how the ego-centric power play manifests through the male partner’s rage and what it does to a marital relationship.

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Tamed elephants, tame others

Lakshmi grew up watching the same cycle of conflict and pacification happening between her parents and other couples. She heard elderly women consoling the anguished younger ones. Those very pieces of advice and worldly wisdom had taken a firm root in her beliefs. She heard them saying that God intended women to maintain balance in their homes and families. If at times it required sacrificing or compromising with their dignity, it was okay. Essentially, women were born to bear the pain to make everyone happy. That is why God entrusted women with a special, sacred capacity to endure sorrow, misfortune and agony. Thus, women were expected to silently put up with their husband’s rage, manipulation, verbal and physical abuse. It helped to retain the marriage and maintain the family’s integrity. The same is expected of women in modern society, even today. Often, women themselves criticize other women revolting against male aggression. They discourage deviating their paths away from this toxic subservience.

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It’s a universally prevalent mindset

My grandmother would casually narrate this tale as a funny story. Later, I realized it was not one Lakshmi’s personal story or an anecdote to laugh at. I observed that this was the cultural conditioning and social status of women from all walks of life. It exposed the flawed and malicious tradition of power-play generally exercised by men in marriage. It is present even in non-marital relationships, patronized by patriarchy.

Almost every time I catch up with my friends, I hear a few of them perpetually complaining about their husbands. These men humiliate and abuse them for no reason or for trivial things. They often speak to their wives using foul language and shout at them at the top of their voices. On some occasions, I saw the derogatory way these men talk to their wives. I heard them nonchalantly making sweeping comments about women in their presence.

At some point in their marital lives, many women endure some or other kind of physical abuse. I and many of my friends and relatives are no exception to this. In some cases, it was spanking and beating, forced sex or forced abortion. I know of cases where in-laws forced a woman to go for the removal of perfectly healthy high canine teeth. Her husband found it ugly. But he was smart enough not to go with the wife to the dentist. Instead, he sent his parents. One of my friends suffered forced non-medical removal of an IUD. Another did not receive any treatment, proper diet and prenatal medical care during her first pregnancy. Some I know were forced to do menial household labour during pregnancy. They had a history of miscarriages. Still, their in-laws and husbands forced them to do excessive household labour. One was subjected to coerced consumption of alcohol. Her husband did this to her to have sex with her against her will. Many of them have been putting up with the humiliating behaviour of their husbands almost throughout their 30 plus years of marital life. They hopelessly hope for change. What amazes me about us women is that even after suffering so much, we temporarily sulk and eventually get back to our tamed status. Women end up accepting and submitting to it as their unchangeable and inevitable fate. The incidences I shared just now are from a so-called upper middle class, urban and educated families. But they almost resemble what happens with countless Lakshmis in less privileged sections of society.

Cultural conditioning

Strangely, these women despite regularly being abused and having been severely ill-treated by their husbands in the past, diligently abide by the marital vows. It starts with revering the ornamental signs of marriage they wear on their person. They unfailingly keep special fasts or perform rituals for their abuser husbands’ well-being and long life. They serve them and sometimes their complicit in-laws in all obeisance and dedication. They feel grateful to them for their evolution from a naïve girl to a woman of the marital household. They keep referring to the ‘good training’ their worldly-wise abusing husbands imparted to them. They feel obliged for the good ‘care’ their abusive, controlling yet ‘responsible’ husbands otherwise provide. The food, shelter, medical care, occasional entertainment and gifts, as if they did not do anything to deserve all that. What amazes me the most is the way these women vouch for their ‘love’ for their husbands though being treated like doormats for decades! I try to gauge how deep the conditioning has been within them. It obliterated the sense of self-care and self-worth in them. It blunted their discretionary power to differentiate between what is a healthy marital relationship based on mutual love, respect and understanding, and what is an ‘arrangement of convenience’. This gives rise to the question are women expected to ‘love’ their husbands by default? Especially in arranged marriages, no matter whether their husbands love them or not? I have seen women being superstitious or defensive if they were asked to question themselves about their unconditional love for their abuser husbands. There could be various reasons for that. One of the main reasons is economic dependence. Staying in an abusive marriage is a far better bargain than being a widow or a divorcee for many women. Hence, women are trained by society, or they train themselves as adults to pay the price by compromising with their self-worth and dignity and stay put. I am no exception. Been there and done that. Although eventually, I did free myself from a long, unsuccessful and abusive marriage, I have experienced my fair share of male rage in the family.

Normalization of male rage under social pressure

I have observed how I rationalized the angry outbursts of the male relatives in my family as the manifestation of their inner unresolved issues. Even after being severely verbally abused, I proceeded with a ‘nothing happened’ façade. Partially, the façade helps in protecting myself emotionally. As they say, no one should have the remote control to manipulate your state of mind. But the other reason for doing so is to avoid or prevent further deterioration of the situation in the family. Hence, to keep the façade of normalcy and balance in relationships and family, we women go on with our daily lives with these abusing men around. We interact with them normally, burying all bruised emotions in the recesses of our hearts. Thus, in so many ways we contribute to the normalization of anger and aggression as an integral part of masculinity. We do not let them realize how damaging it is.

Women do not enjoy the entitlement to get angry, yet not misunderstood

Why am I calling it ‘male rage’?

Let us analyse the ‘genderization’ of rage by patriarchy. It is a common phenomenon that when women lose their composure and get into angry outbursts in certain vulnerable moments, it is not tolerated as in the cases of men. People, including both men and women in the family, criticize and condemn it. They judge and label the angry women. There is no attempt to know and understand the underlying reasons behind it. No one sees it in the totality of the matter, as they do for men. They start characterization of the woman for getting into angry fits. People even start doubting women's mental health, unempathetically though, if they occasionally get angry. In some outlandish cases, they believe it to be the influence of certain supernatural or paranormal elements. Not only that. Later, those angry episodes of women are referred to out of context. The men in the family would do that to justify their own irrational and often deliberated rage. It becomes a counterattack or whataboutery technique.

In the case of men, episodes of anger are often considered as freak incidents under stress and duress caused by certain external factors. The faith in their core goodness is retained by parents and others. Not so for women. This is strange. It shows how convoluted is the belief that anger or aggression is a sign of masculinity. It is perceived as synonymous with power and strength. Simultaneously, blaming men’s anger on some external factors indicates their inherent weakness, incapacity, immaturity or failure to handle difficult emotions, people or situations. This paradox nullifies the concept of power or superiority expressed through their anger.

The hard questions men and women need to ask themselves

Why do women not want the men in their lives and in society to be accountable and responsible for their behaviour? Why should men enjoy the liberty and privilege to let loose their toxic states of mind, anytime, anywhere? Why would they use their lousy anger to hide their messed up emotions, stress, internal pain, confusion or trauma? Why would they choose to unleash their anger on the women closest to them such as their mother, sister, daughter or wife? Is it because these women provide themselves as the safest punching bags with the least propensity to hit back? Is it because women are expected to save the semblance of family honour and peace, at least on the surface, by quietly tolerating and hiding it within the four walls of their homes? Why do we allow men to cross our boundaries and howl at us and utter all sorts of nonsense? Why will the onus be on women to provide men with emotional crutches or a hardened back or both at the cost of their own emotional and physical well-being? Why do women let the men in their families unleash their internal demons upon them? Anyway, the relief men get by doing so remains temporary as the root cause is somewhere else and something else. Things come back to square again. What then is the point of women taking the brunt of male rage upon themselves? Does it help in keeping the peace, love and family bond, unscathed and not sabotaged? When will men, especially the so-called educated breed who manifest so much anger, realize and accept that they need help to fix this problem? When will men take responsibility for their malaise and seek professional help or do anything but spare their wives, mothers, sisters, female relatives or subordinates from it?

Is putting up with male rage an arrangement of convenience?

Let women not fool themselves and hide behind the self-glorification of saving family peace and integrity by putting up with male rage. They need to wake up and acknowledge how deeply they have been conditioned to devalue their role in the family and society. They need to question themselves why do they accept such rage? Is it the pound of flesh they barter against the monetary support provided by their husbands or other male relatives? They need to look into the mirror and see. Do they silently put up with male rage in the marriage to hang on to the marital surname, its perks and privileges and a perceived sense of security that comes with it? There is a saying that nothing comes free. So, is the monetary support received from husbands or any other immediate male family members also not free? Rather, are these considered as ‘favours’? Women’s contribution, their legal rights or men’s socially defined duties towards them, nothing matters? A woman’s role and contribution in the family and society as a mother, wife, daughter or sister has been deemed economically void. There is no statutory system of monetary reimbursement for their services in the family. Whatever economic support they receive from the males in the family is thus projected as a favour and not a return they deserve. On top of that are women supposed to reimburse these ‘favours’ by conforming to patriarchal expectations? Upon failing in that area too, are they supposed to compromise with their self-care and accept such abuses in the form of men’s angry outbursts? Are they also expected to own up to the guilt of causing it? Then, should women play any victim card? As in that case, wouldn’t it be women who choose this predicament for themselves? In the process, directly or indirectly, aren't they facilitating patriarchy to spoil the human capacity of compassion, empathy and better emotional maturity in men? Isn’t it high time that society and women themselves unlearn to devalue their roles? Or else, shouldn’t they make economic independence a priority over and above everything else? At the end of the day, isn't money a big and powerful differentiating component in human life? Surprisingly, I have seen even economically independent women putting up with male aggression and abuse. Why? Some of them told me that they did so to retain the ‘image’ society wanted women to have. Some of them are crippled by the fear of what people would say if they take any step to free themselves out of this trap? They are wary of how that would impact their children’s lives? But is it worth it? Isn’t life too big and too precious for this delusional ‘image’ women are fooled into conforming to by society and culture? Isn’t this ‘image’ a sort of blackmailing tactic by patriarchy? Because if a woman loses it or defies it, society makes her life miserable at every step.

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Faulty attribution of human traits by patriarchy

Endurance, composure, gentleness, and forgiveness are considered integral qualities of being feminine. But anger, temper tantrums, violence, and rage have been defined as signs of masculinity or power. Both are constructs of patriarchy and both women and men are victims of it.

As a woman, I have heard innumerable times that I should not get angry, raise my voice, say harsh things or use cuss words. Not because these are not the right way to deal with my emotions triggered by someone or something. But because it is unbecoming of women to behave like that. They must always be soft-spoken, shy, understanding and tolerant. Whenever I slipped from this paradigm, I was criticized and called names. My grandfather, a great patriarch himself, enjoyed and endorsed my adolescent brother shouting over me in his cracked teenage voice. He said, “He is a man. He is supposed to roar like a lion. You cannot equal him as you are a woman, you do not even have a strong voice like him.” In reality, none of these traits is gender-specific. Though it is believed from an evolutionary perspective that men are genetically more prone to aggression, violence and combative tendencies, social psychological theories do corroborate the genderization of this supposedly genetic tendency which is misused as a power tool in patriarchy.

Be it aggression or compassion, both are behavioural characteristics of human emotions. It is found both in men and women. In some cases, a role reversal also happens. In such cases, the women resort to anger, temper tantrums, undue domination, manipulation and rage as a defense, offence or simply a power-exerting tool. Thus they camouflage their vulnerabilities, while the husbands or the other men in their family put up with it for the sake of peace. Men submit to such anger management issues of their female partners or family members due to vulnerabilities of their own. However, the cases of male rage over women are always much more. It reflects a general, widespread social trend with innumerable types of manifestations within various layers of social life. It is being increasingly evident.

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What needs to be done to de-genderize anger and rage?

First, let us deal with ‘anger’ as it is and without attaching gender identity to it as perceived and propagated by patriarchy.

Let us all evolve, understand and deal with ‘anger’ as an aspect of the human psyche. It is a creation of ego and deep, turbulent emotion of negative nature. It has to be seen in the context of the civilized modern society we live in. Let us not surrender it to the alibi of primate trails still running in our blood. We need to acknowledge that shouting, cursing, beating or any type of verbal or physical abuse are the behavioral manifestations of anger – an internal state of mind indicating unresolved issues. It is never a sign of machismo, strength, maturity, or power. Rather, it exposes one’s vulnerability due to suppressed emotions such as despair, lack, fear, jealousy, false pride, insecurity, a sense of being less or inferior, an urge for superiority, dominance and control. It is a desperate call for attention and help, depression, and above all complete unawareness about one’s true self. Angry outbursts give one a false sense of power, camouflaging the fragility inside.

Be it an individual’s inner thoughts, emotions, belief systems or society’s collective accumulation of the same, anger must be freed from patriarchal genderization. Anger is extremely debilitating and damaging for both men and women. Every individual needs to be aware of the fact that anger is a phenomenon generating out of their internal mental state and their inability to deal with it. Nobody or nothing outside is responsible for their anger. Externalities function as triggers, often inadvertently or unintentionally. Every person must be held accountable for choosing how they would like to deal with such triggers that activate their own raw emotions, ego, psychological wounds and internal issues. They cannot use others as punching bags to hit out in frustration or as garbage bins to dispose of all the rubbish in their minds. Intensive self-awareness and emotional capacity building (EQ) training right from childhood through to adulthood would facilitate mindfulness in identifying anger in its core form and dealing with it without genderisation.

Secondly, women need 360-degree awareness to break free of male rage Besides both men and women being trained in identifying anger as an emotion, what causes it, how it influences and shapes our behavior and actions, women also need to be made aware of what role they play in normalizing and legitimizing anger as a male trait. They have to recognize the situations, the psychology and cultural conditioning that make them subjugate their dignity, body autonomy, physical and mental well-being to male rage as a weapon of patriarchy. Once they are enlightened with this 360-degree awareness around the issue of male rage in patriarchy, they will have to stop endorsing it and become mentally and financially empowered to break free of this trap.

#anger #domestic violence #wife beating #patriarchy #misogyni #machismo #feminism #mindcontrol

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chonacatibog · 4 years

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Commitments: Lent 2020

Photo from IG:@chonacatibog: “ When it comes to my small #IndoorGarden, it's always a satisfaction when i see my rescued plants regrowing and doing much better than ever! 🌱🌿 ”

I was in my second, or third year in college when I decided to tear the walls down that kept me from God, the walls that stood boxing Him in--the very same walls that maybe I did build influenced by society, the world, maybe my family and friends, and probably even the Church.

Coming from a family who practiced the Catholic religion quite seriously, I still wouldn’t call myself religious then. (I still prefer not to be called religious today, though!) I went to Church on a weekly basis. I took down notes during religion classes and performed well during exams. I enjoyed whenever my grandparents invited their friends over and did their regular activities as a CFC household. (I genuinely miss those--as of writing!) I enjoyed the mass songs taught to me by my Titos and Titas never fully understanding what the songs meant. And when my parents separated, I was taught that God was not pleased because it’s a violation, a disrespect, or something to that effect, to the Sacrament of Marriage. I went to a semi-Catholic school in high school and was part of quite a prayerful community. I prayed, sure. I prayed with my family. And I was taught at a very young age that whenever two or more are gathered in prayer, Christ is there with them. (Matthew 18:20). So I did pray. I understood then that when I needed help with something, I only had to pray and ask God. I have memorized a lot of Catholic prayers but never truly knowing what they really meant. I have some Bible Verses memorized as well, and sometimes used them--for the benefit of none other than me--but mostly, I’ve learned, they’re taken out of context.

But it wasn’t actually until God surrounded me with people who are actually qualified to be called His disciples that I truly, truly, truly understood: I know nothing about who the Lord really is!

Looking back, I still thank Him for placing these people in my life. Some I’ve already lost in touch with; some remained and are still actually my good friends!

I think I just also have to mention that not all these people are from the same religion as mine yet they illuminate the light of God, no doubt. And if there’s anything I’ve learned from all those years of seeking and getting to know Him, it’s that He shouldn’t be caged in a religion, in a practice. I understood He’s far greater than that. He is in every person I meet and encounter who practices love, especially when it’s just so hard to love. Just as Christ did. And just as He still always does up until this very time, this very moment.

Love. God is Love.

And for this year’s lent, my commitment would be to learn more about love by practicing love, always. To everyone. At any given time.

I know myself and I know it’s not going to be an easy task.

Ever since I began my commitment and my declaration (to self) that I am a child of God and that I love Him above anything else in this world, I became more conscious of the things I’m doing, and feeling, and thinking. Is it right to feel this way? Is this the right thing to do? It is not an easy task and getting an answer isn’t always one plus one equals two. I have learned that the world is not black and white and there’s actually a blurry line between right and wrong.

Although I have always tried to be conscious of the things I do, many many times I still fail to follow Him. I am an impatient person. I judge other people, sometimes way too quickly, whenever I feel like they’re standing on a wrong belief. Sometimes, I find it hard to listen. And most of the time, I let my pride eat me, totally consumed, instead of the other way around. At the end of the day, I am still a disappointing, always-sinning, failure. And although I think I could have had a total control over my actions, it’s a cycle that almost never ends. And it doesn’t help that I keep forgetting that each time I feel frustrated, I beg for forgiveness and pray that He grants me with a heart just like His.

---

Just a few weeks and days ago, the entire Luzon has been placed under an Enhanced Community Quarantine as a safety measure against the COVID-19 virus outbreak. What a time of great uncertainty!

While I am privileged to have a roof above my head and resources that will help us get through these troubling times, I acknowledge the fact that there are brothers and sisters out there who are forced to risk their lives everyday to serve fellow neighbors, countrymen, and their families. I’d like to think there’s a reason why God has placed this burden on our shoulders just in time for Lent. I am not saying that it is a reason to celebrate, but it is a reason to slow down, grow much much much stronger in prayer, remain vigilant and in search for Truth.

Provided the many painful news we receive everyday, I have been in such a crazy emotional roller-coaster ride--the emotions being mostly negative, by the way. I hear news about increase in the number of cases, and I get anxious. I hear news about the government’s incompetence, and I’m angry. I hear news about other people’s indifference, and I’m furious. I hear news about fellow Pinoys abused and just neglected during these times, and I’m just heartbroken.

I notice, once again, that my feelings lead me to becoming a disappointing, always-sinning, failure. I confess that I have spoken against other people. I refused to listen. I refused to put my shoes in their shoes to maybe look around where they’re coming from. Thinking about those things now, I also confess I still have this little voice in my head telling me “those things are straight-up, unadulterated, absolutely wrong and there’s nothing to even consider about it, not worth listening to!” I try to justify how I feel by telling myself “God wouldn’t like it either!”--so it’s just right to be angry at these people, forget about your relationships with them ‘cause they are not worth your time and understanding!

Awful. Just awful. God wouldn’t like that either.

This Lent, I confess I have committed all these mistakes and that these were all made out of the lack of love. I always pray for God to help me become more like Him, less like me. And while I know God always wants to help me with this, I am the one who wanders away. I commit, and then I forget.

So today, I am going back to keeping a journal. Writing, anyway, has always helped me think better. For example, before I created this entry, I didn’t think I’d write this much!

Moving forward--and there’s nowhere else to go but forward, the question to answer is: What is love? How would Christ exhibit love at a situation like this? How do you best practice love?

Let’s see what God has to say.

Dear Lord,

Thank you for reaching out to me the past days. You know how weary my heart is now. And how eager I am to finally change my ways--especially now that, I think, the world needs it more. Forgive me for all the mistakes I have made.

Teach me Lord to see things the way You see them. How do I best practice love at these times, Lord?

#love #christ #jesus christ #catholic #lentenseason

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linkspooky · 3 years

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This is kinda random, but what is your top 10 favorite otps?

Sure.

#1 of All Time SPUFFY

Spuffy, it wrote the book on both beauty and the beast archetypes, and enemies to lovers. For me the most important thing in a ship is the character development it brings about. Spike's redemption doesn't work without Buffy, because it's meeting the one person who expects better than him and won't put up with his selfish crap, that forces his character arc. Buffy's development is also nothing without Spike, it's meeting Spike that makes Buffy confront her dark side, and realize that being a good person isn't something you are, but something you work towards for the sake of your loved ones. The ideal ship should inspire this permanent character development and chane (Unless it ends tragically), they should be an inseperable part of each other's character arcs.

#2 Kumagawa / Ajimu

This is what I was talking about when I said "unless it ends tragically". Sometimes you ship two people who should never end up together, because they probably won't accept their differences. However, even in a failed relationship, two people can be important to each other. There's not really a hapyp ending for Ajimu and Kumagawa, despite their similiarities when they're together they just seem to make each other worse. In Medaka Box they are the anti-Zenkichi and Medaka. However, for Ajimu Kumagawa represents her only human connection, and for Kumagawa Ajimu represents the first person to be "good" to him even though their relationship soured at one point. Therefore I find the ship interesting because despite the fact that they are permanently separated they are still an incredibly important part of each other's identities and who they are now.

# 3 Matsuda / Junko

Basically for the same reason as what I said above. There is no universe where Junko and Matsuda end up in a happy relationship, as long as Junko is still Junko. However, Matsuda and DanganRonpa Zero as a whole add so much to Junko as a character. As long as Matsuda exists, Junko's more than just a black hole that only cares about despair, and I think together the side materials like IF and Zero show that Junko actually is capable of caring for people outside of her natural tendency to want to throw everything into despair, however, humanizing Junko in this manner doesn't actually make her a better person. She can have feelings like romantic, and familial love, and she still chooses to destroy those things and the people in her life. It just adds so much to Junko as a character, which is what I like ships as, an extension of characterization through character interaction.

#5 UIHAI

I love Ui and Hairu because it's like a broken fairy tale. It was a love that could have saved Hairu, but it didn't, because for Ui he always realized his feelings too late to save anyone. Hairu was obsessively chasing after Arima for the smallest amount of approval, when Ui was right there, and already in love with her. They seem like the perfect couple that could never get together, because Hairu is too fixated on Arima, and Ui is too fixated on his job. They are perfectly suited to giving each other what they wanted, and even in lots of side materials and sketches they seem like a pair, or Ui's feelings for Hairu come across as pretty clear but it never came to be in canon.

#6 ZACK / AERITH

Once again for the same reasons as above, it seems like a fairy tale romance of a knight, and a girl he wants to protect, but it fails completely to live up to that story. Zack and Aerith is a tragic story of first love for both of them, and it's also really formative for who Aerith is now as a character. Zack tried to be there for her, and he tried to be a hero to Aerith, only to very consistently not be there for her, and then disappear from her life all together. Much later on, Aerith is incredibly isilated, unable to fall in love with the real cloud without projecting Zack onto him. It's a relationship where in a better world they could have been there for each other, but also the failure of the relationship develops them as much as characters as them getting together might have. Zack and Aerith are one of those relationships that seems ideal on the surface but they are very different people with different wants, Zack wants to be a hero, Aerith just wants to be a person first.

#7 LINK / MIDNA

The best zelda ship period. Once again the most important part of a ship interaction is the change that both characters inspire in each other. Midna begins not caring about Link at all, never referring to him by name, only seeing him as an object, an old legend, a hero to be used instead of a person. Midna's a manipulative freak, and Link breaks through to her because he actually isn't interested in being the hero of legend, he just wants to save the people closest to him at the village because he feels indebted to them, and Midna inevitably becomes one of those people. Link and Midna's partneship makes the game, because it's Midna who pushes him and makes him into a hero, but it's Link through his unfledging acceptance of her who inspires her to be a person once more, and not just the twilight priness.

#8 Morrigan / Warden from DRAGON AGE ORIGINS

This and Spuffy are like the only two on this list who actually end up together, so let me just have this. Once again my favorite aspect of a ship is the transformation the relationship brings baout in a character. The warden is a non-character, but for Morrigan herself, her relationship with the warden is what allows her to escape an abusive household, and beyond that decide not to repeat the cycle of abuse with her new family. What made this ship an all time fave was in witch hunt when the Warden gets to ask her what she wants, and she's just completely confused. Even with her mother dead, Morrigan is still a tool of her mother's ambitions, it's still all about her mother wants. It's her love with the warden, either through friendship or romance that awakens Morrigan to the fact she's allowed to exist as a person with wants and needs outside of what her mother wants her to be.

#9 Kaine / Nier

It's the Most Humanizing Ship Ever Between Two Mass Murderers. As a story, I think Nier is about finding the life, and love, in a story that is ultimately, fatally doomed. Nier only worse and worse as the game goes on but that doesn't mean there was never any love in his life. For every bad thing Nier does, he was not bad to every single person, specifically Kaine, it was Nier's love and belief in her that allows the wounds in her heart to start to heal. As Nier and Nier gets worse, Kaine's own shadow self says, that her feelings in her heart are no longer hatred, or even revenge, there's just a pure white light of love left. In a game where everything only rots, Kaine has healed to the point where she can love again when she never thought it was possible. It's why I like ending D the best, because it's Nier knowing he can never escape his own sins, but he can use his last action to heal Kaine fully all the way and allow her to live on a few more years.

#10 SATOSUGU

Once again, there's no universe where they end up together, and yet still on opposite sides of a conflict they remain each other's closest friends. The most important thing about a ship is the character development it leads to and Gojo would not be who he is today without Suguru. I generally get the sense that Gojo's idea of a good person isn't himself, but rather who Geto used to be before he broke. Gojo actually relied on on Geto for a lot more than he realized, considering it was the one connection he had that seemed to humanize him. Geto provided the chosen one who can do literally anything in the world with his powers, support and guidance. He was the jade, and the foundation of their two person friendship, and then the jade broke.

Gojo and Geto's broken relationship is not only the most emotional thing in the series to me, it's also an incredible part of who they are ten years after the fact. Gojo straight up didn't bother to make friends for ten years later after the fact even though he could have, Geto still told his daughters that Gojo and him were best friends, they just had a fight. He couldn't comperehend in Volume Zero that Gojo would still regard him as a friend after everything that they had done.

It's like one of those "Can't live with them, can't live without them" pairs. They want to be each other's one and only but it just won't work because they don't understand each other, and neither of them is willing to compromise. They are also each other's perfect yin / yang complement. Gojo is the opposite of Geto, and still carries a part of Geto within him, and Geto even after becoming the enemy of the sorcery world while Gojo is the savior, still carries that friendship with Gojo inside of him as well. While their relationship is a failed one, it's also a past I hope that the next generation Megumi and Itadori both learn from, even if Geto never truly comes back.

#spooky speaks #top ten ships #shipping #askspookies

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vinylgomez · 5 years

Text

the way i wear my noose like a necklace

WARNINGS: death, ptsd, heartbreak, insecurity, loneliness, domestic abuse (verbally/emotionally & physically), car accident, self harm, mentions of suicide, intrusive thoughts, depression, anxiety, trust issues, guns (kinda), implied dissociation, sad ending, also she forgets to feed the dog

seriously, do NOT ignore the warnings if you are easily triggered

Pairings: Fuuka Yamagishi x Minato Arisato/Makoto Yuki

Summary: 10 years after the events of Persona 3, Fuuka is still having trouble dealing with her trauma. She blames herself for her boyfriend Minato’s death and is still processing everything that happened with S.E.E.S but also in her home. Meanwhile everyone else, even Junpei, seem to be okay, Fuuka is on the path of self-destruction. [AU]

Word Count: 1,509

A/N: before you read, please note that this is in no way belittling abuse survivors, the only reason it might seem like that at some parts is because it’s from fuuka’s point of view and she doesn’t believe that she deserves better. this is not meant to make it seem like minato cured her either, so i’m sorry if it comes off that way!! also the writing is amateur but i’m just here to vent.

this is an alternate universe of the game persona 3 from 2006 developed and released by atlus (massive spoilers so don’t read unless you’ve finished the game!!), none of the characters are mine.

it’s been 10 years since her hero had sacrificed himself to save the world, and she was forever grateful

and fuuka actually thought she was getting better for a while

but most nights ends with her curling up in a ball sobbing silently to herself in her bed

recalling the way she was the reason for his first smile in months

and the way he used to look at her like she’s the reason the world keeps spinning

she thinks about the way she had always been insecure about their relationship

because really, who in their right mind would choose her over someone like mitsuru kirijo or yukari takeba?

but he was so patient, understanding and sweet. every time she voiced her concerns he just smiled faintly

“i will always choose you” he had whispered, resting his palm on her cheek

he was the quiet type, but whenever he did speak, it was always something important

it always made her feel better

but then he had died in another girl’s arms

and it just so happened to be the girl who always had a close connection to him

and everyone knew about it

i'm not the right match for him, i never was

doesn’t trauma cause you to lose your memory?

then why did she remember those moments so clearly?

almost as if it was the present

like when they all ran up the stairs leading to the rooftop

and the way he looked so peaceful

almost as if he was only sleeping

she remembered the sinking feeling in her stomach when she realized what was happening, her throat tightening, and the way it felt like time slowed down as she fell to the ground, wailing. this can’t be happening

at this point, she had lost count of the amount of times she had wished her evoker could be used as a real gun, just so she could put herself out of her misery.

over the years, she had slowly lost contact with her former teammates, because she kept herself isolated in her stupid room in her stupid apartment, afraid somebody would notice the scars on her wrists or the way her whole body flinched at the faintest sounds.

koromaru had stayed at her place for a while

but then yukari had visited

they were only supposed to have a cup of coffee

but really the girl came to check up on her friend

and she had noticed how thin the dog was getting, and how pale fuuka was

“fuuka-chan, are you sure you’re okay?”, her voice cracking

fuuka had tried to reassure her worried friend that she was just fine

but of course, yukari wasn’t stupid, and had seen right through her lie

weeks later, koro no longer lived with her, now he was with akihiko.

because fuuka had apparently forgotten to feed him.

but she didn’t understand it, she was sure she had filled his bowl everyday

was her mind playing tricks on her?

and to make matters more complicated, yukari kept recommending therapists

she knew she needed to talk to professionals, and she had tried. but really, how can they help? they can’t time travel, and the anti-depressants had never seemed to help her feel any better. she was a lost cause, too far gone.

yukari was the s.e.e.s member who had tried the hardest to help, but eventually she had given up as well. fuuka couldn’t say she was surprised, it’s not like she was ever going to escape the destructive lifestyle she was trapped in. she was grateful for her friends, but she stopped feeling understood a long time ago.

sometimes she felt like she was losing her mind completely. the trauma of everything that had happened when she was only 16 haunted her everyday.

why can’t I just be like the others? at least they’re functioning like normal human beings.

but minato had been the best thing that ever happened to her

and some nights, she can’t escape the guilt. the guilt of so selfishly wishing it had happened to somebody else. does that make her a terrible person? no, she tells herself. but her mind tells her otherwise. her disordered mind always makes matters worse for her.

“it’s your fault. it’ll always be your fault, you could’ve stopped him. and look at you now, it’s been a decade and you’re still crying. how pathetic. you’re a failure, fuuka.”

every time she thought of that horrible day, her head would repeat those words over and over again. isn’t grief supposed to have five stages? she knew that much, but for some reason, she seemed to be stuck in the worst one. she screams into her pillow, hoping something would make all the pain go away. but who was she kidding, this was a routine.

or a cycle, a never-ending cycle of pain that was far worse than anything she could’ve ever imagined before it had happened.

it was worse than being lost in tartarus surrounded by dangerous shadows.

it was worse than how her father would hit her and call her a disappointment when she refused to become a doctor.

and it was certainly worse than having to accept the fact that her parents didn’t look for her when she went missing for 10 days.

“why can’t you just be like other girls, fuuka? why do you have to be so special? what’s so interesting about that damn computer? you think hacking will get you anywhere in life? grow the hell up and get a proper job! think about your mother and i, and how humiliating it is for us to have a daughter like you.” her father would shout, while her mother sighed and looked the other way as he threatened their daughter, saying that he would disown her if she “didn’t get her shit together”.

those days always ended with her upper arm covered in bruises, tears streaming down her red cheeks as she fell asleep wishing she was somebody else.

she knew it was sad, tragic actually, that she would go right back into her abusive household in a heartbeat if it meant that he would come back to life.

but the thing is that at least she had a safe place back then. it was him, no, it’s not like in those cliché love stories where the boy saves the princess from all of her problems. it wasn’t like that at all, but she had him to talk to about anything, he always listened so well.

and whenever she was around him it felt like nothing was wrong with the world.

like when he first kissed her, she had never felt so safe.

pressing a shaking finger to her lips, she smiled faintly at the memory.

but it only lasted for a moment.

“he’s gone and he’s never going to come back. you’ll be alone forever, fuuka.”

now she had nowhere to go, no one would truly understand her

she had once thought that maybe junpei would understand, he had lost chidori in a similar way

and he had lost his best friend, too

but then she realized she didn’t know how to talk to him anymore

and there was no way she could tell him everything

not to mention, she wouldn’t want to upset him. he deserved better than having to deal with her shit too

all the bad memories replayed in her head. like a nightmare.

or a horror movie that constantly rewinds and plays the scariest parts over and over again

she thought about her fathers words, and she knew he was right.

but he had died in a car crash a few years back, and she no longer had contact with the woman who used to be her mother.

so she couldn’t tell them that they were right about her all along.

not that she would’ve given them the satisfaction, anyway.

maybe if he had just killed me when he wanted to, they could’ve had another daughter, or a son, who would’ve been picture perfect. and they would’ve been happy.

once she gets up and slumps towards the bathroom, she knows it’s just another messy night that proves how weak she is.

fumbling through the cabinets, she retrieves what she was looking for.

she's not crying anymore, everything feels slow and distorted, as if time had stopped passing and nothing was real.

dragging the razor blade across her skin, tears start to flow again. watching the blood drip to the floor, she can’t stop telling herself that she deserves everything bad that has ever happened to her.

she smiles.

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adultprivilege · 5 years

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Hi, I was wondering why you said that the institution of parenting is structurally abusive? (I think I have a vague notion of why you might have said that, but I'd like to get it cleared up)

so we got two asks with this question, I’ll leave the other one to the other mod because maybe they have a different perspective. This is Mod Isaiah speaking right now, btw.

In my opinion parenthood is structurally abusive because any system of power, without any easy source of retribution for the powerful, is inherently abusive. Even if your parent is actually perfect, but they just don’t give you the freedom to know that you are safe in this society, is abusive. There is still a very real threat that they could abuse you and get away with it, because CPS isn’t gonna do anything, and foster care is terrifying to so many people, and no one in the rest of the world will ever believe the child.

So, a comparison. Relationships have to be consensual in every way. A person should be able to not participate in different actions (if I specify sexual it ruins the metaphor), they should be allowed alone time, they should be trusted by their partner, they definitely shouldn’t be hit, physically harmed in any way, screamed at, or anything else drastically aggressive by their partner, they should be able to maintain contact with everyone else in their life, they should be allowed to leave the relationship entirely, and to encompass all of this they should just have the freedom of choice so long as that choice doesn’t infringe on someone else’s freedom of safety.

In the early Americas, and in a whole lot of countries that I’m too lazy to google, women were considered to be owned by the husband in the same way that children are owned by their parents. That’s why the “ownership” of women was always transferred from their fathers. They weren’t allowed to control their own finances, they didn’t need to consent to sex for it to happen, they would be forced to spend time with their husband, they could be yelled at and screamed at and hit and have no way to escape, they would never be trusted to be capable of handling themselves, I mean a real consequence of sexism is female genital mutilation being used to promote chastity till marriage which still happens in places like Liberia (I’m not sure if it’s legal there but a huge part of the secret society “Sande” is female genital mutilation to promote chastity and refusal to masturbate) they could straight up be refused to see their family ever again, they would have to go through an incredibly difficult court process and prove that their partner was abusive to pre-1950s standards (I don’t actually know the exact year but it was past 1950, Adam Ruins Everything has the whole story) , and we all know they were never given freedom of choice. Of course, their husbands could’ve been generous, radical feminists, suffragists, they could’ve given their wives whatever they wanted. But if you were put back in the 1900s as a female, you would never trust a man enough to marry him, and many cis women decided to dress up as men just to escape the oppression.

Let’s think about another comparison. Slavery. I know any comparison to things like slavery or the holocaust are always really touchy and dangerous to do unoffensively, but I pick this one specifically because it is so drastic. I’m not gonna compare the two in terms of awfulness, because I think it’s impossible to properly measure either in terms of awfulness when our society is still justifying both and influencing us to do the same. And I don’t prefer the idea that someone will guess which I think is worse. It’s awful, and yet at the time that personal slaves were legal in the USA, many people would justify it with “I treat my slaves properly, why should I get rid of my slaves just because someone else is bad to them?” And “now we know” (quotes because this is bullshit and if Donald Trump was given 4 more years I think he could have enough influence to make slavery legal again and liberals would just say he’ll get his karma when he’s out of office, or that this is why we have to vote for Warren, or some bullshit, we don’t actually know that slavery is bad, we just want some moral highground to pretend we’re not racist anymore) that slavery is awful no matter what, because it is literally ownership of a human being. I’ve always wanted to go to the places where slavery was still legal, buy a bunch of slaves (hear me out and don’t misquote me) and then free them. But a huge part of that has to be letting them know that I’ll free them immediately and they don’t have to do anything for me, giving them power over me to make the power balanced, going into some legal process to free them in their home country, and paying for their plane tickets if they wanna come to the US to escape their former owners. And I mean, this has been a huge thing on my “when I’m rich” to do list ever since I found out slavery is still a very real problem in a lot of places. But the fact that Thomas Jefferson thought it’d just be fine to buy slaves and own them in a moral way has been interpreted as extremely offensive at this point.

But children, if you literally have the rights to own them, is totally cool you guys. Totally. I mean it should just be generally understood by now that owning another human is wrong, even if it isn’t for profit. And parenthood, for the most part, is ownership of a child. And it’s straight up the same thing as 1850s marriages. I’ve seen a lot of people say they don’t know anyone who wasn’t spanked or beaten as a child, and frankly I only know a couple people who weren’t abused, and even they seem to have taken some issue with the fact that their parents had a right to them as people. It’s cruel because you are blatantly saying “I have more power legally, politically, socially, and economically than you, I control all of your finances, I have been assigned with the duty to care for you and make sure you own up to your responsibilities, I pretty much own you in terms of legality and society, you have no means of leaving this house unless I force you out, and also I’m not only allowed to but ENCOURAGED to punish you in whatever means possible. Pretty much the only thing I’m not allowed to do without social judgement is sexually abuse you, and even then people either won’t believe you or they’ll think we’re from Alabama and we’re just like that. And if you want to leave, you’ll have to call this organization that is just famous for putting you in an even worse household, and they’ll probably just call me to tell me what you said behind my back and then ditch.” That entire situation sounds like a horror novel to an adult, and we are rooting for the adult to escape. But for a child it’s perfectly fine to us.

So is there a method of changing this? In my opinion yes, but it is much more radical than anyone would like. I think children should be able to leave their parents and find other parents or enter contracts with older children to live with them temporarily or permanently. I think all children should be given financial independence and a salary for going to school, one that mostly is earned through attendance and participation, but could be raised slightly with the right grades. I think at teenage years, maybe 14, people should be given the right to vote, because if the government is so much more active in childrens lives than adult lives, through schooling, parenthood, and mental hospitals, then why do children not get a say in that? The founding fathers believed that people without property shouldn’t vote because they might be biased and vote for whomever will provide them property, and their vote might come out of greed. Adults use the same logic to prevent children from voting, saying they’ll vote for someone who will limit school work, but honestly that’s a very necessary action. We need to cut down on school hours, because 40 hours a week has been proven to be stressful to adults and much more stressful to children, and we need to add those hours to summer, creating 2 week breaks 4 times a year rather than having 3 months that make summer famous for unlearning your entire last school year. We need to have teachers check in with parents regularly to make sure that the children are safe and well cared for, and check in with students to make sure they feel comfortable. We need to fund CPS and create radical reforms to it, I mean don’t get me started with that because I’ve already written an essay for this ask alone. We need to make sure that educating children on abuse and sex is required all across the country, and that we start at younger levels like second grade with some not very emotionally taxing or explicit knowledge of sex or abuse, and then we do another more involved abuse education in maybe seventh grade, and tenth grade. We need rehabilitation for abusers, and therapy for victims if they want it. I’m big on prison abolitionism in favor of restorative/transformative justice combined with rehabilitation, because the current system sends parents into a justice system that ultimately traumatizes people who were already likely abused as a child considering the cycle of abuse, and then sends them back into the world. I don’t think anyone has to take pity for them, abusers are not good people, but prison does not work.

And a big part of this involves abolishing capitalism. personally don’t believe in capitalism, socialism, communism, or anarchism at the moment. I’m still sort of deciding, but I’ve been mostly interested in crafting my own version of all four. I think different sections of the government should incorporate each one, but the system will only fail if you have just one system and no others. In my opinion, whatever system there is, wealth should exist, but there should be a limit to the wealth you can have. You should not be able to own more than five houses, I hope this isn’t too radical for the multibillionaires. There should be a limit to your wealth, but there should also never be such thing as a “living wage.” People should not have to pay to exist, that is cruel and inhumane. College, healthcare, housing, healthy food, basic internet (only because it’s basically a necessity at this point, most people are starting to look for jobs online so how is a person going to survive without this, I mean it’s basically god at this point), and accomodations for disabilities should all be provided for free. Money should only be used for things like pools and going on a hiking trip with a professional Grand Canyon guide. Idk I can’t think of anything right now but stuff that isn’t required just to get someplace in this society. The reason for all this being that the biggest link to abuse is struggling with money. I have seen people, like with my own eyes, being verbally belittled by a parent for not being able to renovate an apartment well enough to rent it out up to the parent’s standards, because they were constantly struggling with money. That family would constantly have fights because the parent would take out financial shit at their children, or have an awful day at their job that was an hour away and come home screaming about meaningless shit. And my own experiences of abuse almost entirely disappeared relatively when my family was able to afford mortgage and we no longer had to save up for my college tuition. Poverty and former trauma are the biggest causes of abuse and we need to address that through the destruction of capitalism.

But yeah I’m gonna let the other mod know to answer the other ask on this because my opinion might not represent them and I take some really radical stances on child rights activism. Thanks for the ask and I’m sorry for the essay!

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