#I mean I didn't really expect much form the man who defended the rape of a 16-year-old girl

[amphibious-thing]

"It was that lone hit which gave rise to the stories, including the one claiming that Saint-Georges had lost out of gallantry to a "lady fencer." No final score was ever mentioned, except by the two novelists, though it is possible that the famous hit immortalized by Robineau's painting, might have later induced even D'Éon to assume that he had beaten Saint-Georges that day.⁶⁴"

~ Gabriel Banat, The Chevalier de Saint-Georges, p298

Note 64: "In the end, D'Éon came to believe that he was actually a woman". Kates, Monsieur D'Eon, 291.

Wow Banat, implying a trans woman is delusional, really?

Perhaps people assumed that d'Eon won the match because her one hit is the only hit that was mentioned. Read the following contemporary newspaper reports and tell me who you think won?

Mademoiselle D’Eon exhibited a curious spectacle at the assault which was performed before the Prince of Wales last Monday. The novelty of a Lady in petticoats engaging the most experienced and able masters of the noble science of defence, excited universal pleasantry. Those who were not perfectly acquainted with the Chevalier’s history stood in amazement, and even such as had formerly known her en culottes, were not a little surprized at the skill she displayed in fencing with Mr. St. George. Her petticoats did not incommode her in the least, and it was very clear that this retired Captain of Dragoons is much more expert at the riporte than a curtsey, and handles a foil with more grace than she does a fan. The assault upon the whole proved highly entertaining, and the satisfaction of the company was not a little encreased by the affability and engaging condescension of the Prince of Wales, than whom no man possesses more the spirit of elegant hospitality, and the captivating manners of the polished gentleman.

~ The London Chronicle, 2-14 April, 1787

The most remarkable occurrence of the fencing match at Carlton House was the assault between Monsieur de Saint-George and Mademoiselle D'Eon, the latter though encumbered, as she humorously declared herself, with three petticoats, that suited her sex much better than her spirit, not only parried skilfully all the thrusts of her powerful antagonist, but even touched him by what is termed a coup de temps, which all his dexterity could not ward off. We hear that a celebrated painter has undertaken to hit off the semblance and attitude of the hero and heroine in this very interesting scene. Mademoiselle D'Eon had modesty enough, on her hitting Monsieur de Saint-George, to set it down to his complaisance; but the latter candidly declared that he had done all in his power to ward against it. A gentleman present assures us that nothing could equal the quickness of the repartee, especially considering that the modem Pallas is nearly in her sixtieth year, and had to cope with a young man equally skilful and vigorous.

~ Reprinted in The Strange Career of the Chevalier d'Eon de Beaumont by John Buchan Telfer, p309

[legends-of-time]

The Strength of a High and Noble Hill (Outlander)

Chapter 23: Fathers and Their Archaic Ways

Masterlist

November 1769

Brian cautiously approaches where Da is applying the finishing touches on the maternity ward that they have been building together. Brian would've joined him sooner, but he had kept his distance as he knew they both needed to cool off. That's what happens when you have a big argument.

Da looks up. "Brian..."

Brian grimaces. "Hello..."

His eyes flicker to the red mark on Da's cheek, but he can see a bruise is already forming. He winces, running his fingers over his red knuckles.

"I'm sorry." Da says quietly.

"This disaster isn't all your fault." Brian admits. "I expected more from you than I should have, given the time you were raised in."

Da looks affronted by that. "Bein' raised in my time doesn't mean ye don't know right from wrong or how to behave."

Brian sighs, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. "No, fine, I admit that. But I just want to ask you something."

"Wha'?"

"Do you know where Lizzie was when Ellen was attacked?" Brian asks.

"She said she saw Mackenzie take her away." Jamie replies.

"That's not what I asked you." Brian retorts.

"She said she saw Mackenzie take her away." Da replies. "She thought he'd taken her off to ravish her."

Brian scoffs. "Lizzie is a child; I doubt she knows much. You should've asked me at least. Bonnet raping her happened days later while I was caring for Lizzie. I found Ellen, I comforted her and picked her up."

Da's face contort into one of confusion. "Then why didn't ye defend her honour? Why didn't ye go find him and—"

"Because I was respecting her wishes! She was barely holding it together and she was desperately focusing on finding you and Mama. And I– I couldn't face the fact that I had let her down." Brian crumbles then, letting out a sob. He feels his Da reaching for him and wrapping an arm around him, keeping him upright.

"You nearly killed him, Da." Brian whispers. "Roger may be dead now because of you. I'd be lying if I said Ellen could forgive that."

"I ken tha' now." Da admits. "I acted irrationally but I dinna want ye, yer Ma or Ellen to be involved. She'd already told me she wanted 'im dead, the man who raped her." Ellen had not shared the sentiment with Brian but that she feels that way does not surprise him. "And I didna want te involve her in murder."

"Saying you wanted someone to die was a far cry from actually commissioning their death." Brian shakes his head, wiping his cheeks and stepping away from him. "That isn't the problem. Not really."

"What is?"

"You. Right after she told you that she'd asked Roger to her bed that you called her a liar." He points out to him. "You condemned her the moment you heard that she'd been with a man of her own free will. She wept in your lap like a lost child and still you stopped believing in her once she told you she was no longer a virgin."

"No, I was confused. Lizzie said it was yon Mackenzie who ravished her and then Ellen said she bedded him by choice." Da shakes his head. "It was that I thought she had lied to me." Brian can see he's genuinely distressed about it.

Brian makes a sound between a scoff, a snort and a chuckle, "Why did you think she lied to you? Why all of us didn't tell you?" He asks.

"Brian, what she did is nae how a woman behaves—"

"This is exactly why." Brian cuts him off. "You let your archaic beliefs cloud your judgement. You put them in front of being there for your daughter who's been through a traumatic experience and is terrified about what's happening to the man she loves. I doubt you would've treated me like this if you found out a slept with a woman without marrying her. No, you would've laughed and made a joke about me becoming a man but because Ellen's the one that's done it, she's the whore?"

Da goes quiet, looking down shamefully. "Yer right. I shouldn't have called her a whore."

"Yeah, you made a mistake there," Brian takes pity on him as he looks at his devastated face, "but you can still make it up to her."

Da's head snaps up. "How?"

"By bringing Roger back." Brian tells him. The face Da pulls is kind of funny. "Look, she loves him, Da. They were planning on marrying; they had done the whole hand fast before she found out he'd been lying to her.Trust me. I'm not happy with him myself but we need to do this for El."

Da nods in agreement.

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

[catherineflowers29]

Hi! I'm the anon from before! Oh, thank God. I was worried I upset you because JB shippers get so defensive when someone is critical of their ship or Jaime (btw I'm a Brienne stan before a JB shipper.)

I think your story is so great and feminist... the fact that Brienne was allowed to be angry at Jaime and make the choice to fuck Addam and still be the doting mother and a warrior who inspires women (also thank you for no boring Sansa/Brienne friendship). I loved how she said "fuck that" to any of Jaime's weakass explanations and whenever that bitch was like, "are we good? have you forgiven me? can we fuck?" and she just went like "wtf no you're the worst." like YES. It fucking bothered me the way those S8 apologists defended Jaime's "addiction" and liked the offensive disgusting white book scene. FFS LET WOMEN BE ANGRY. LET WOMEN HAVE A STORYLINE THAT ISN'T TIED TO SOME GARBAGE MAN. LET WOMEN SLEEP WITH MEN INSTEAD OF THEIR ASSIGNED LOVE INTERESTS AND LET THEM ENJOY IT TOO. LET WOMEN BE BITTER AND UNFORGIVING AND COMPASSIONATE AND MOTHERLY AND BRAVE AND AWESOME AT THE SAME TIME. ALL THESE THINGS CAN EXIST IN ONE WOMAN. IT'S ALLOWED. AND BRIENNE IS NO BETTER OR WORSE IF SHE CHOOSES TO BE UNFORGIVING. I HATE DUDEBROS.

I don't think you should be unhappy with your story! Your story has amazing dialogue and internal thoughts, well-rounded characters, and Brienne of Tarth being awesome. If anything, you were too nice to Jaime by having him be happy and giving him a purpose. You should subvert my expectations, lovely author! Don't have Brienne forgive Jaime and get into a relationship with him! Make her kick him to the curb! Break his heart! Piss on his corpse! Probably JB shippers will be mad at you but I've got your back. The REAL Brienne fans know that Jaime did Brienne so dirty, and no bs addiction or duty can justify that!

Ok that's enough... and WTF why would people think your fic is controversial. IMO we should bully the writers who had Brienne easily forgive Jaime and take him back just like that. Fuck them all. I only respect YOU. You got me into shipping Addam/Bri and also validated my anger. Also I was busy, didn't know you updated your fic. Gonna read it now. Not gonna lie, I'll be a little upset if she chooses Jaime because I thought the glass throwing scene was written to show the tragic end of their relationship and how there's no coming back, but I did want to know your thoughts.

Bless you, kind reader. 

I’ve had a lot of thoughts about why my fic is considered controversial. The subject matter in it really isn’t that “dark” in the traditional fic sense. There’s no rape or major character death, it’s not torture porn or anything. And yet, there was rage about it on Reddit, it was banned from being discussed on Discord, and a BNF decided (very hurtfully, I might add) to call me out on Twitter because she had formed a judgement based solely on my tags. I have also been blocked by numerous people in the fandom that I have never so much as had an interaction with. I’ve also had a LOT of shitty comments and anons here and there from people who seem really angry that I had the temerity to write this fic.

That genuinely surprised me. I knew it wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea - what fic is? But there have been times when I have felt like a total pariah and not wanted to interact with other members of the fandom in case they feel the same way. Whatever way you slice it, that’s shitty behaviour.

Largely, when we ship something, particularly when it’s an OTP, we think of that relationship as an ideal. It’s escapism, it’s perfect in ways that our real relationships never can be. I think that’s why, for so many of us, 8.04 was really devastating. Jaime and Brienne are also a ship about acceptance and understanding, of a deep connection that transcends surface impressions - they both see each other for who they really are. That means a LOT to us, I think. I think we all long for that kind of relationship and exploring it in our fandom gives all of us so much happiness. We are in love with their love.

In their portrayal of the JB relationship, D&D ABSOLUTELY got that wrong. I absolutely do not dispute that. I think a LOT of people were angry with me because they confused what I was writing as being supportive of D&D’s take in some way, because I treated it as canon. Some writers were able to paper over the end of the show, dismiss it as bad writing and move on, or write fic where Jaime changes his mind, Brienne forgives him, and then they carry on with what we wanted.

I just couldn’t do that. God knows I tried. But if I had been in Brienne’s position, I absolutely would have been as pissed as fuck about what Jaime did. I don’t accept that he went back for Cersei as a brother, or that Brienne wasn’t crying for herself but only for him and his lost honour. Being dumped HURTS, particularly when you loved someone and thought you had a future, and then he walks out in the middle of the night without saying goodbye. Brienne had SO MUCH backstory about being hurt and humiliated by men, having the first man who loved her, the man she gave her virginity to, treat her that way would fuck her up.

I’m not saying that anyone who disagrees with me is wrong, and I never have. I don’t have the definitive knowledge of these characters, none of us do. I only have my take, my experience, my style.

I just couldn’t write about their relationship as being idyllic and perfect any more. Is it a reflection of who I am as a person and as a writer? That’s certainly been the accusation several dozen times. Maybe. It’s certainly a reflection of how I feel women put up with too much shit from men and are expected to be kind and forgiving in return. I HATE that with a passion. 

Angry women are really controversial. They make people of all genders feel very uncomfortable. Sexually confident women do, too, and I think my story was the perfect storm of those two elements, really. People who want escapism from realistic relationships where people don’t live happily-ever-after really took exception to its very existence.

I don’t hold it against anyone for it not being their cup of tea, or if they disagree with my take. God knows there are kajillions of fics out there that aren’t my bag too. Things I’ve rolled my eyes at, things I’ve fundamentally disagreed with, things I’ve been horrified to read. But not once have I ever felt the need to be a public douchebag about it. I’ve never felt the need to make a writer stop writing.

So thank you so much for taking the time to send me this. It does make a really nice change to get an anon be so positive and affirming to me as a writer!

I really hope that you enjoy the end of the story. And that you will enjoy the reboot in a few weeks where we stick with Brienne’s POV and I turn the volume down on some of the elements that I don’t like about the story myself. Not the rage though, or the Addam banging. That’s staying! 

[angellesword]

Silver Dust

Summary: Yoongi proposed to you and you're contemplating whether to say yes or no.

Pairing: Songwriter Yoongi x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fluff, fluff, and fluff.

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings/ author's note: I wrote like a whole ass song using Cypher pt.4 beat lmaooo, kissing, minor smut, mention of rape, abuse, killings, and corruption.

<<< The first meeting >>>

The first time you met Yoongi's eyes wasn't really that special.

There was no sign of your heart skipping a single beat, if there was, you're 100% sure he's not the reason behind it because 1) you pretty much believed it's just the effect of drinking three shots of espresso in one sitting. 2) You were damn nervous since your prelim grades were already out.

You didn't even feel any butterfly in your stomach, nor did your world light up—and this, to be honest, was understandable, especially when Yoongi's eyes were dead as fuck. You figured that if it wasn't for your shared seven am class, he would probably still be lying in bed.

"The professor said you're my partner for this project." Even the first time you heard his voice wasn't special.

If there's one thing that made Yoongi Yoongi, it's his monotonous voice. At first, you thought he just didn't like the idea that you two were stuck together to work on a project. (Again, it's understandable) You also found it ridiculous that your professor actually paired you with a stranger.

Well, it's not like you knew Yoongi. Unless knowing his full name counted. But really, it's inevitable since the two of you went to the same classes since freshman year (you're a senior now) apart from that, almost all your professors never failed to voice out their adoration for him.

You first heard his name when your history instructor made it very clear that Min Yoongi's works would be his "standard" when it came to grading your individual projects. In short, if Yoongi got an A, you and your classmates should also either get an A or an A+ or else, you're considered 'failed.'

It’s kind of fucked up, really. Most of you knew that Min Yoongi was a monster when it came to collecting As. Unfair. All he did during class lectures was sleep and yet, he still managed to be number one.

Huh. It must be awesome to be God's favorite.

There was also this one time when one of your professors, Mr. Bang, cried when he asked Yoongi to read his essay in front. The smart boy was reluctant at first. He despised exposure, that's for sure. However, the professor's so persistent that Yoongi obliged just to make the annoying instructor shut up.

You're actually glad Mr. Bang managed to persuade Yoongi. His speech about finding yourself and being happy made Mr. Bang and almost everyone in your class cry. Yoongi transformed into a completely different person the moment he started his speech. Monotonous Voice? Gone.

You figured that yes, your heart didn't skip a beat when you first caught his eyes, but boy did your heart hurt when those simple words leaving his mouth turned into a piece of art.

<<< Your one brain cell >>>>

The second time you met Yoongi's eyes was in front of his house. The two of you decided to work on your project at the school's library, however the place was loaded with students cramming their paper works and you just couldn't bear to hear another person aggressively typing on their laptop anymore. You were sick of it.

"Uh, hi?" you awkwardly smiled at the blond man in front of you.

You weren't quite sure how to react when he was just staring at you blankly. Yoongi's lips were pursed together and that alone made you uncomfortable.

"We were supposed to meet at the library..." He raised his brow as if he wanted to know how the hell did you know where he lives? And were you a fucking stalker?

"I..." You instantly trailed off when he narrowed his brow more. Man, he sure was intimidating. The lack of spark in his eyes made you wince. The man in front of you had thick, low set brows—making them appear almost completely straight. (Poker face alert)

You swallowed the thick lump in your throat before trying to form a coherent sentence.

"There...people. I mean, the library is packed with uh, people."

"So you just decided to show up in my house?"

His question made you quiver. This was such a wrong move. Of course you couldn’t just knock on his door like this; you two were not even friends!

"I'm sorry. I just didn't know any other place and I..." You heaved a deep sigh. "I saw your friend Jeongguk and he told me where you live—“

"Right." He cut you off by opening the door wide. Of course it had to be Jeongguk. That little shit really knew how to annoy Yoongi.

"Holly peed on the couch so there's no way we can work there. Is my room okay to you?" Despite not seeing his face, you instantly knew that Yoongi's question was directed at you. He was leading the way inside his house and you're behind him, quietly following where he's going.

Yoongi's house was not that big, but it's a lovely and comfortable place. Unlike your dorm, you felt at home here. It's probably the indoor plants that made the place more alive. You suddenly wondered if he's living with someone. Did the love of his life stay here? Or did he have a roommate? You're adamant that he lived alone; otherwise all these plants would probably be dead.

You weren't really a judgmental person, you're rather logical. Yoongi slept during class hours; he couldn't be bothered by moving a single inch, too. You guessed that he hated any form of activity and maybe, that included watering plants.

You were about to ask him if he lived alone when your voice had been overpowered by loud, boisterous bark.

"Oh! Hello there, little guy..." A giggle escaped from your lips when a small dog went your way to lick your exposed legs.

You squatted in front of the puppy so you could pet his furry head.

"Holly, no!" Yoongi called the attention of the brown poodle, but it couldn't care less. The dog named Holly still continued to ask for your affection.

"Holly!"

You almost whined when Yoongi took Holly away from you. You're sure the puppy hated it too. But Yoongi told you that his pet needed to learn his lesson first. The naughty dog really peed on the couch right after his bathroom training. Yikes!

Yoongi let you inside his room after your little encounter with Holly. The vibe of his room contradicted the overall theme of the house, but you had expected it to be this way nonetheless.

His bedroom walls were painted dark blue, too dark it's almost close to black. There's nothing much in his room except a single bed, a study area with lots of technical devices, and oh!

Amusement danced in your eyes when you noticed different manga books on his shelf. You didn't think that Yoongi was the type of person who would dwell on such things, but what really caught your attention was his album collection.

"You like Epik High!?" you couldn't help your enthusiasm when your eyes found the band's album called Shoebox resting on the black metallic shelf near his bed. Damn. Shoebox was your best-loved album of all time! You liked all songs by Epik High, however nothing could ever top the said album for you. Your ultimate favorite song had to be Amor Fatti. That song slapped, though its meaning was often misunderstood by many.

Yoongi only spared you a few glances from the moment you showed into his house, this time, however, he was looking at you intently and for the first time, you saw him smile, a shy one at that.

"Yeah...they're the reason why I write songs..." He whispered, too soft you barely heard it.

You even blinked. Did you hear him right?

"Oh, you're a songwriter?" You flashed a loop-sided smile that made Yoongi's cheeks red.

"Uh, well...it's just what I like to do during my free time."

You nodded and hummed, your eyes were still busy roaming around his room when an idea popped in your mind.

"So why don't we make use of your talent and write a song for this project?" You caught Yoongi's eyes again, but this time, it didn't look dead, truthfully, his pupils dilated when he heard what you just said.

You instantly defended your suggestion.

"I mean, we don't really have a plan, and now we have. I think you're pretty good at it so it'll make our jobs easier. I can sing, don't worry..."

You hated saying that, though you didn't have a choice. You needed to convince him that producing a song would be such a good idea.

Your professor said you needed to make something, anything that would elicit a reaction from him and your classmates. This was a psychology class and your topic for midterm was all about emotions. Mr. Kim Seokjin, your professor, was tired of doing all the talking, especially because your class was unresponsive, so to save his voice (and brain cells probably) he told the whole class that the remaining meeting for midterm would be about his students showcasing their talents that wold, like what you had said, gain extreme emotions from your classmates. It's actually easy except that you're paired with someone you were not close with. On top of that, the presentation of the project shouldn't exceed ten minutes, and lastly, it should be personal.

You spent days thinking about what you and your partner could do, but your brain cells weren't cooperating since you only had two of it, the first one was sleeping and the other only knew the words "Nothing, bitch."

And so now that your former brain cell decided to wake up and save you from your misery of being stupid (even if it's just for good three minutes) you're willing to take it.

Before your 180 seconds ran out, you immediately started blabbing words to convince Yoongi to produce a song with you.

And guess what? Your convincing power must be really good (or maybe you're just as annoying as Mr. Bang and Yoongi just wanted you to shut up too) but hey, at least Yoongi agreed!

<<< Weirdo >>>

The third time you met Yoongi's eyes—well, it's not really the third time. You had actually lost count on how many times your eyes locked with each other. Sometimes, it's a conscious act, but most of the time, it's not. You guys would just find yourselves staring into each other's eyes when you didn't know what lyrics to write next.

Producing a song was not as easy as what you thought it would be. It had been three weeks since the two of you started this project. Yoongi's room had been your workplace ever since. He had the equipment you needed plus it's easier to meet here since your dorm was just meters away from his house.

"My damn throat hurts like hell!" You groaned before collapsing on top of Yoongi's bed.

The past three weeks you spent with Yoongi made the two of you start a beautiful friendship. Admittedly, it's not really beautiful since most of the time; you're bickering at each other. You and Yoongi were so different from each other. He liked starting his work early because he wanted to finish it early. You, on the other hand, were his exact opposite. You're the play now, work later type of person and Yoongi hated it so much. While he practiced delayed gratification, you sat there and ruined everything.

You were always on his bed, cuddling his pet Holly. That's most likely the reason why it's only been two days since you two finished the song. It took almost three weeks because of your procrastinating ass, and now, you suffered. The two of you only had a week before you performed this in front of your class. Yoongi was pissed off at you for the reason that you still hadn't finished memorizing the lyrics and your voice was already strained.

“If I ever see you drinking cold water again, I will fucking drown your ass on that water as I behead you, and then I will freeze your head." Yoongi warned as he joined you in bed.

"Ohhh, morbid. I like that..." You shrugged your shoulders and then you buried your face on his chest—making him groan in irritation.

"You weirdo, get away from me!"

"No..." You laughed because Yoongi was the weird one here. He told you not to touch him or stay close to him, but at the same time, he's wrapping his arm on your waist.

You wondered if this was okay, it's just been three weeks since the two of you had been formally introduced, and yet, you found comfort here. On his bed. In his arms.

You smiled to yourself, yes, Yoongi was a weirdo, but so were you.

<<< Namjoon’s Party >>>>

What you considered as the fourth time you met Yoongi’s eyes was also the first time he called you by your given name.

“You feel so good…” He moaned your name on your neck, his hands were tightly wrapped around your waist—enjoying your body heat.

You suddenly thought if dragging Yoongi into this party was the best idea. Right now, you had no freaking clue how to act. You’re drunk, but not too drunk to not think about the consequences of this night. But damn, you’re just a human. A horny human! How could you possibly stop Yoongi when he’s using his soft lips to paint bruises on your neck!?

You could just push him away and you knew that, though you were also aware that your mind and heart wouldn’t want that, not when you liked what he’s doing to you.

“Namjoon’s party sucks.”

“Just not your crowd, weirdo...” You chuckled. Oh, thank heavens for Namjoon. He was one of your childhood friends and frankly, the song you and Yoongi produced wouldn’t be finished without the help of Namjoon. So when that friend of yours texted you to come to his birthday party, you immediately agreed. Fortunately, you didn’t have to force your one brain cell to wake up just so you could convince Yoongi to go with you.

This wasn’t what Yoongi likesd he hated parties because he didn’t want to talk to stupid people and drunken people were stupid people. Perhaps the only reason why Yoongi was here was because he couldn’t turn down Namjoon—not after all your friend’s genius advice.

“I hate this place.” Yoongi added, he’s now looking at you with sparks in his eyes—or maybe you’re just drunk. Too intoxicated to feel and see anything other than the fact that Yoongi’s already grinding at you.

You huffed; suddenly offended by the clothes you’re wearing. Were you supposed to wear this when all you wanted was to feel Yoongi’s touch on your bare skin?

“We’re here for Namjoon—”

“God, can’t you take the hint?” Yoongi cut you off by pouting.

You blinked. Did this weirdo just pout? And oh, his lips…his lips were hot….hot against your own mouth.

“Yoongi….” You breathed, your eyes were too hazy to see his gummy smile.

“Let’s get the hell out of this place…”

That night, you once again lost count as to how many times you met his eyes. You also figured out that his eyes looked best the most when he’s down on his knees, facing your hips.

<<< The Performance >>>

You were expecting to meet Yoongi’s eyes as soon as you opened your very own one; however panic and fear consumed your whole being that you immediately ran out of Yoongi’s room. You’re too frightened to let him see you that you hurriedly put your clothes on and left his house.

It’s not like it was going to change the fact that you slept with your classmate in Psychology, however, you were scared. Scared to see his eyes back to being dead when just last night, the moon and the stars were there, staring at you like you’re not just a dust in this universe, but the whole universe.

Besides, you had one logical reason: you needed to pick up your costume for your upcoming performance with Yoongi. Taehyung, your designer friend was only available till nine in the morning, so you literally had to run like a lunatic right after you woke up from your cozy sleep on Yoongi’s bed.

Your outfit was perfect. Damn, Taehyung really had a talent when it came to this. Your confidence level was boosted just by wearing the clothes your great friend designed. You thought you’re finally ready to perform the song you and Yoongi produced for one month.

You were so ready, but your heart was not…

Just…where the hell was Yoongi? It had been two days since you last saw him. You hadn’t heard any news from him since you left his apartment the day after Namjoon’s party. Was he mad at you for leaving? Or did he even care?

You had fifteen minutes left before Mr. Kim Seokjin, your psychology professor, marked your grades zero.

“Fucking Min Yoongi, where the hell are you?” You grimaced when your call was directed on his phone’s voicemail.

You had two options: fake death so you wouldn’t have to perform, or kill Mr. Kim Seokjin. (They wouldn’t probably notice if you stabbed your professor on his side since most of them were busy preparing for their own presentations.)

But just as you’re about to resort to your latter option, Yoongi’s familiar scent immediately attacked your nose. You looked back only for you to cancel killing Mr. Kim Seokjin and just choose your former option.

God, how could it be possible for you to still want to stay alive when Min Yoongi was killing you with his looks? Gone was his light blond hair, but you’re not complaining since his now black curly hair was much much better than the previous one.

“Sorry I’m late. Holly peed on the couch again…” His multiple earrings looked too damn good on him. You’re silly; you’re fucking silly because you worried for nothing. Yoongi was still Yoongi, and the sparks in his eyes were still visible.

“It’s okay, we still have time…” You smiled as if the thought of murdering your professor didn’t just cross your mind. Oh well, nothing else mattered when Yoongi was here, right?

Mr. Kim Seokjin said that you and Yoongi would be the last performers for this day, which meant you still had at least half an hour left to stare at Yoongi like a vampire wanting to drink blood. But time flies fast when you’re busy with something. Thirty minutes ago, you were just ogling at your partner, right now, you were in front of the class, spitting fire with your partner.

The first verse of your produced song was rapped by Yoongi. Scratch that, Agust D was in front of you and not Yoongi. Your partner told you that he preferred to be called Agust D whenever he was performing his rap song.

Robber! Robber!

Sorry bae

Killer! Killer!

Sorry bae

Addiction—diction--diction

Sorry bae

“Oh! The court’s case you got away?”

Your partner smirked before proceeding to the next verse. You, on the other hand, stood there to hype the crowd.

You always get away

I’m sorry bae

You smoke cocaine but get away

Justice won’t be served

I’m sorry bae

Everything, everything, everything

Unfair

You were nervous. The next verse was assigned to you. The plan was that you only had to sing the chorus part, though Yoongi had another idea. He wanted you to go out of your comfort zone and try something new. So here you were, rapping.

You commit the same sin

Sorry bae

Your silence they love it

Sorry bae

I see same pigs on the senate

Boring bae

Your vote they bought and they’re not

Sorry bae

Nothing’s new but rich people’s car are

Brand new

Sorry bae

You can’t be illiterate coz they take advantage

Before you know it, you’re one of the reasons

Why innocents are salvage

Politicians know your name

But after the election they act like they don’t know your name!

You and Yoongi both performed the chorus part. It looked like the crowd was enjoying your presentation because they also started shouting and hyping you up.

They love, they love, they love themselves

They know, they know your sufferings

But they don’t they don’t and will never care

Youth wake up, stand up, we should fight the state! Brr!

The following verse was rapped by Yoongi again. You took your time to feel yourself as you discreetly watched the reaction of the people in front of you. A whole month of stress and worry seemed to pay off. You even locked eyes with Park Jimin, one of your most-respected classmates; he cheered for you and that was enough for you to successfully perform the next verse.

I wanna get job (job, job, job)

But I can’t get on the spotlight

Yeah I wanna have a good life!

But my parent’s wings are cozy

I just wanna hide

It’s okay I have time

My trust fund won’t end

So I can still live

And breathe while I finish this game

Called being “dependent”

All night, all day

All night, all day

Don’t care, don’t care, don’t care!

The next verse was easy to execute since you and Yoongi both rapped it. You were facing each other and suddenly, you forgot that there were eyes watching you. Min Yoongi caressed your cheeks once. You smiled as you sensually rolled your body.

Who plays by the rule?

No one!

Who wants to grab a woman's hair?

Husband!

Yoongi slightly pulled your hair this time. You grimaced, but you still continued rapping.

He has mistress so the wife’s depressed

He forgot about their kids but that’s okay

She can cover up for him like how

She can cover her bruise and play cool

As she says “I love him, anyway.”

You moved away from your partner. Your mood instantly changed as you approached the next verse. This one’s challenging to write. Your heart was breaking as you sang.

The other woman on the street has been pulled

By the stranger claiming she’s wet like a pool

She should be thankful since this will feel like

a dream come true

Lick it lick it right, you can take it, right?

She cried and cried and cried, that should be a sign

But “High five!” he told the other man

As the woman cried, her voice is too loud

So they killed her that night.

You let out your frustration by growling and jumping. Min Yoongi was also lost in his own world as he rapped—raising his middle finger from time to time.

They love, they love, they love themselves

They know, they know your sufferings

But they don’t they don’t and will never care

You’re horny, you fucked up! Go on and hate yourself! Brr!

It’s Yoongi’s own verse again. His mood shifted too. If you weren’t part of this performance, you would probably just stare at him. Goddamn, Min Yoongi had his own way of expressing himself.

Back back to the killings!

Your guns check

Call me when you need a gunman I can kill

Even for a dollar

Hashtag no conscience

I don’t believe in God so hell sounds okay

I’ll be with my gang gang

So hell won’t be boring!

The demon you summon

so money won’t be your worry

Payday, paycheck so I can have that rolex

He pointed the rolex on his wrist. It’s not an authentic one, but that’s not the point. Clearly, he just wanted everyone to see that there were other ways to “look cool.” However, many people still chose to listen and be their own demons.

Click clack to the bang bang

Your time has run out.

Click clack here’s my gun

I’m so high on drugs

I see you as a rat

They can control me with money

So you take these four shots

Your life is like a fruit fly

“I can’t understand. Why is it so easy for them?” This was Min Yoongi’s question to you. He asked this while you two were writing the following verse. He hated a lot of things, though he could forgive and tolerate some of it easily. However, he clearly told you that he could never treat someone right if that person used violence.

Click clack to the bang, you and you

Wait your turn

Shit! You little boy

Come here look at the blood

How? You’re asking me?

I don’t know, you’re a man you should know how

He also told you how much he hated this unfair world. He respected women more than ever, but Yoongi was an advocate of both equality and equity. Why can’t boys cry? Are we robots? These were some of his questions too.

If this is the kind of world we live in

I don't wanna live at all

If I exist for your pleasure

then I refuse to accept this call

You joined Yoongi singing the last verse of the song.

They love, they love, they love themselves

They know, they know your sufferings

But they don’t they don’t and will never care

Yo’ human, are you human? If yes then help us save this place!

By the time you finish the song, everyone’s clapping their hands and cheering for you and your partner. You swore you even saw Mr. Kim Seokjin wrote “100” on your paper.

You smiled. The performance was over, contrarily, the attraction you felt for your partner was only starting.

<<< Kimchi and Other Sauces >>>>

The first time you met Yoongi’s pleading eyes was during dinner time. After your performance in Mr. Kim Seokjin’s class, your partner said that the two of you should celebrate this success. Of course you immediately agreed, but that did not mean you were willing to spend money.

“I swear to God, Yoongi…if you ever bring me to a fine-dining restaurant, I will fucking kill you.”

You were not joking. You had student loans to pay so you couldn’t afford to spend a hundred dollar for a fucking spaghetti and sparkling water.

“Chill, you weirdo. We can just—” He stopped mid-sentence because a brilliant idea just popped into his mind.

“What? You’re not planning a yacht dinner date, are you!?” You started freaking out and the uneasiness you felt only intensified when Yoongi smirked.

“Actually, I was planning to…you know…maybe…make you eat my cum.” He simply shrugged his shoulders.

He said it so casually that you just stared at him. Was he serious or were you supposed to be laughing now? You could feel your blood rushing. You were so confused. Excited. Worried.

After what it felt like forever, the staring contest with Yoongi finally ended. He offered his hands and of course, you immediately took it. The both of you rushed toward his big, black motorbike. Yoongi only brought one helmet so he told you to just wear it. The ride to his house wasn’t that far, anyway.

The both of you were in a hurry. Countless profanities were thrown at him for driving hastily; Yoongi even parked his motorbike in a reckless way. Still, you two couldn’t care less, especially Yoongi. How could he? Huh, definitely not after you stroked his cock while driving. That’s really not a smart move, at least not when Yoongi’s mother welcomed the both of you just as Yoongi opened his apartment’s door.

“Eomma! What are you doing here?!” Clearly, your partner wasn’t expecting to see his own mother. It’s pretty obvious since Yoongi’s jaw dropped and his neck was slowly turning red.

“You brat! Why wouldn’t I be here? This is my house!” You knew you weren’t supposed to laugh, however it’s hard to control yourself when Yoongi’s being hit by his own mother while he was trying to cover the bulge on his pants.

“Eommoni! Please! I have a guest!” Yoongi got away from his own mother by hiding himself behind your small frame.

“What—oh!” His mother’s eyes widened when she saw you. She seemed surprised to see Yoongi bring someone. Of course, Yoongi had never brought his friends home. Not even once. At this point, his mother was actually convinced that her son was allergic to human beings.

“I didn’t know that Yoongi is friends with someone as charming as you…” The frightening aura of his mother was completely gone. The older woman engulfed you into a tight, warm hug as she asked your name. You answered her with a smile on your lips.

Yoongi’s mom led you in the kitchen. Actually, you tagged along with her. She wanted to prepare a meal for you and her son, but of course, you couldn’t just sit still and look pretty. As a sign of respect, you needed to help her. Besides, you loved kitchen works, though you’re pretty sure cooking hated every fiber of your being.

The older woman just asked you to set up the table because according to her, she was always in charge of cooking. She also told you to be prepared because you’d surely forget your name once you tasted her award-winning Sam Gae Tang or that chicken soup with ginseng. Hoseok, one of your best friends, made the best chicken soup so your standard was kind of high. For you, nothing could beat Hoseok, but we’ll just have to see.

“Please be kind to my mother…”

Yoongi’s voice and eyes were pleading as he sat beside you. The food was already prepared and the two of you were ready to eat. You were just waiting for Yoongi’s mom to finish washing her hands.

You just raised your brows at the man beside you, clearly not understanding why he’s pleading because really, you knew how to respect elders.

Yoongi sighed.

“My mom is a terrible cook. Her soup tastes like shit, man…” Yoongi shook his head like a traumatized kid. He even bit his lower lip.

You’re about to say something, but you heard his mother’s footsteps, meaning, if you spoke, she might hear you, and so you just kept your mouth shut. You’re expecting Yoongi to do the same, though he just leaned on your shoulders—his eyes were still begging.

“Please, baby? Just put a lot of kimchi and other sauces on your soup to get rid of the awful taste. Can you do that for me?”

You simply nodded. That night, you realized that Yoongi was willing to do everything just to make someone he loved happy. Days, weeks, months, and years passed and you still admired how every time you had dinner with him and his mother, Yoongi would urge you to put kimchi and other sauces on your chicken soup.

At this point, you were convinced you loved Min Yoongi. You had always loved cooking, hell, you were willing to lose your bachelor’s degree if that meant you would be good at cooking, because…

You, just like Yoongi’s mom, were a terrible cook. But Yoongi never complained nor did he ever put kimchi and other sauces on the food you cooked just for him.

<<< Silver Dust>>>>

The first time you asked Yoongi why he liked looking into your eyes was when the both of you were having a staring contest.

The wind was unbelievably cold tonight, clearly, you weren’t expecting to freeze in the middle of a summer night. The annoying weather led you into thinking if climbing on top of your boyfriend’s house’s roof was a good idea. Sure the stars were pretty, but you felt cold. Too cold.

“Do you know the story about the Window and the Mirror?” Yoongi asked out of the blue. He also pulled your body closer to him—making you grimace. The texture of the roof was hard on your back. You shook your head, why did you choose to lay on the roof without any blanket again? Sometimes, your choices in life were really questionable.

“Nah, what happened?” You’re never a fan of stories.

Yoongi sighed. He pulled you closer to him until your face was buried on his neck. Damn. He smelled like smoke and sex.

“Well, for starters, my father left us…”

Yoongi’s words monetarily made you stop breathing. You had known him for years now, but not once did you ever talk about his father. You were aware that his father left him and his mom, though you didn’t know the story behind it.

“My father was a good man and he always tells me he loves my mother more than ever. For the longest time of my life, I believed him. He never looked into anyone’s wife. He never had a mistress, but my father is selfish.”

You just hummed to let him know that you were listening.

He cleared his throat.

“Mom just wants a simple life and that’s why we never left Daegu. This is my home. Our home.” Yoongi’s grip on your shoulder tightened, he looked up in the sky—the stars were prettier when you were in Daegu.

“My father doesn’t like to be here, though. He loves the city. He craves city life. Ever since I was young, he kept telling my mom that they should move to Seoul. Abeonim hates farming. He calls our strawberry farm disgusting. Said he should become a CEO and not a stupid farmer.” Yoongi laughed bitterly. He could still remember the way his father said those words.

“And guess what? He fucking did. Min Hyun Sik, chief executive officer of Bighit Company…” Yoongi cackled and you gasped.

Min Hyun Sik was his father? That guy was like the richest man in South Korea! You wanted to confirm this news that he just dropped, however, you couldn’t move because Yoongi’s grip on your shoulders was so tight.

“He became someone with power by leaving my mother and I.” Yoongi repeated as his eyes darkened. He no longer found the stars pretty. For him they were just lights—shining to hurt his eyes.

“He just left a note like that was going to be enough. He didn’t even say sorry. The only words written on those notes are him telling me to go to University using the money he left.”

You bit your lower lip. His grip was really, really tight…

“He wants me to go to college so I can follow him in the city, and so I went to college. But it’s not because I want to follow him. I enrolled just so I can fucking drop out during my last year.”

You furrowed your brow. If that was Yoongi’s original plan, then how…how come he’s a college graduate now?

“That was the plan before I met you…” Yoongi’s grip on your shoulder loosens, giving you the opportunity to look into his eyes.

He smiled at you.

“So, the story of the Window and the Mirror?” He offered and you just nodded.

“There’s this rich man—”

“Richer than your dad?” You asked. He laughed.

“Fucking richer than my dad…” He left a chaste kiss on your mouth. You giggled. “Anyway, the man went to see a rabbi, some sort of Jewish teacher. Of course the rabbi asked him what he wanted and the rich man said he doesn’t know what to do with his life anymore.”

“Uh, duh? He should give us money!” You butted in again. Yoongi kissed you once more just to make you shut up.

“Unfortunately, the teacher didn’t tell the rich man to give you money, weirdo. The Rabbi just led him over to the window and asked him this.” Yoongi cleared his throat. “What can you see through the glass?”

“And what’s the response of the rich man, Mr. Min?”

“I can see men coming and going and a blind man begging for alms in the street.” Yoongi answered you. “The rabbi seemed content with his answers, so this time, the teacher led him into a large mirror to ask him another question...”

“What is the other question?” You pressed.

“The rabbi asked him this, baby…” Yoongi pressed his lips on your mouth before proceeding to the story. “When you look in this mirror, can you tell me what you see?”

“And?!” You pressed again.

“I can see myself…”

“Obviously.” You rolled your eyes. You just wanted to know the sense of this story.

“And you can’t see the others. Notice that the window and the mirror are both made of the same basic material, glass. You should compare yourself to these two kinds of glass. Poor, you saw other people and felt compassion for them. Rich — covered in silver — you see yourself.”

“Oh,” was all you could say.

Your boyfriend smiled at you.

“My father chose to look in the mirror and I almost did the same. I almost dropped out of college just because I want my father to see that having a degree is useless. But, baby, if I actually chose to drop out, I wouldn’t have met you. I wouldn’t be able to give my mother a better life. I wouldn’t be able to afford to hire a cook and who knows? If I drop out of college, I would probably still be eating my mom’s shitty chicken soup.” You laughed at that.

“I am just saying, I like to look into your eyes because it reminds me of a window. It made me see a lot of things—new opportunities. Because of you, I stopped being selfish. You removed the silver in the mirror; you turned the silver into dust.”

“I fucking love you!” This time, you initiated the kiss.

You kissed Min Yoongi so hard that when you pulled away, he’s desperately gasping for air.

“I fucking love you too.”

<<< The Proposal >>>>

After reminiscing some of your unforgettable moments with Min Yoongi, you finally looked into his eyes.

Yoongi proposed to you and you’re contemplating whether to say yes or no. Your boyfriend despised the crowd, but here he was, down on his knees—shakily holding a ring on his hand.

You examined his face. His lips were quivering, for the first time; you saw how vulnerable he looked. It’s as if his whole life depended on this, and to be honest, it did. Yoongi couldn’t imagine life without you.

“Baby, are you gonna say yes or no?” Yoongi knitted his brows together.

You chuckled. Typical, Yoongi.

“Please stand up…”

Your boyfriend looked at you with confused eyes. His heart started beating so fast he’s very sure it would explode.

“B-But why? Don’t you want to—“ He stammered.

“Just stand up, Yoongi.”

With a heavy heart, Yoongi followed what you wanted. Deep inside, Yoongi was already murdering his friend, Jeon Jeongguk. He just told Yoongi that proposing in a strange, busy city would win your heart.

You two were currently in New York, New York. Strangers were watching you, and Brooklyn Bridge served as your backdrop. Jeongguk said that if Yoongi proposed in a place where no one knew you, then it was a sure win because your mother wouldn’t be able to stop Yoongi. Your childhood crush or ex wouldn't be in the picture too so it was another win for Yoongi. But your boyfriend was starting to regret his decision. He shouldn’t have listened to Jeongguk. What did that dipshit even know about love?

“Yoongi, are you listening?”

“Huh?” Your boyfriend’s train of thoughts were suddenly halted when you spoke.

“I can’t believe you. I just said yes!” You shake Yoongi’s shoulder. It looked like he was still out of his mind and that made you anxious. What if…what if he decided you’re not worth it anymore? What if he didn’t want to marry you anymore?

“Baby, I can’t believe you too. Please give me your hands!” Yoongi exclaimed.

“Oh!” You exclaimed as well. What the hell! You were so apprehensive that you zoned out too!

“We’re both weirdos, do you know that?” Yoongi shook his head after putting the sparkling ring on your finger.

You laughed.

“Oh, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Gladly.”