#almost like he’s a really astounding actor or something

[katierosefun]

,,,,,,,is there anything more embarrassing than watching the entire filmography of an actor you have a crush on

[moonstruckme]

oooooo can i request reader getting jealous about spencer having to seduce the cinderella killer in 10x6 but being in complete denial and rossi, derek, etc are all like mmmmhmmmm sure ok 👀😏

At long last!! Thanks for requesting and for weathering the wait baby <3

cw: mention of weapons/guns (also I know she drops her shears in the actual episode but shhh) 

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 704 words

“Keep sucking your teeth like that, you’re gonna need braces,” Morgan teases. 

You roll your eyes but stop. “That’s not how that happens,” you say. 

(You don’t actually know how it happens, but neither does Morgan. You know from photo evidence Penelope had somehow gotten her hands on that he’s been genetically perfect since he tucked-and-rolled out of the womb.)

Reid’s hair has grown long enough to tuck behind his ears again, and he does it now, looking every inch the nervous admirer as he advances slowly, almost dazedly, toward the girl. 

“May I?” he asks, voice breathy and expression wide open. 

The girl—your unsub—looks just as smitten. She walks towards him as if in a dream, and you really wish Spencer had his gun out. You know JJ is covering him with her finger on the trigger, and Spencer has a knack for getting out of scrapes, but now he’s kneeling before a girl who’s killed several men, bending his head down as he slips a shoe onto her foot, and she has a pair of shears in her hand that she was just about to use to slit another man’s throat. 

You’re scared for him. That’s what this is. This is fear, just like you’d have for anyone else on your team. 

“What’re you so sour about?” Rossi asks, his tone lilting with intrigue. He looks away from the scene, the three of you leaned against the SUV while you wait for Spencer to bring her in, and studies your face. “Is there something about Spencer’s performance you don’t like?” 

Trust him to chip in. You swear, he and Morgan have to be the worst busybodies in the department. You start to kiss your teeth again, but stop when you catch Morgan smirking. 

“I just didn’t realize he was such a good actor,” you reply. 

And it’s true. Spencer’s performance is kind of astounding. There’s an indomitable sincerity about him that shines through even now, in the gentle way he looks up at the girl when the shoe fits. It makes your chest tighten slightly, and then something foul and warmish curdles in your gut when he takes her hand and presses his lips to it. 

Spencer’s a kind soul. He’s got a sweet voice to go with his sweet face, and the unsub trusts it just like you would, dropping the shears and following him towards where the rest of your team waits. He’s not afraid to touch her, brushing a guiding hand along her back to help her into the SUV. To maintain the ruse, you know. Still, knowing doesn’t help the irritated prickle that goes over your skin. 

Wordlessly (though not without communication, if you count Morgan’s smug look and your answering glare), the three of you peel off from the van, getting into your vehicles to drive back to the police station.

Spencer shuts the door behind the unsub, and you expect him to get in the front seat to help keep her calm on the way to the station, but to your surprise he walks in your direction, getting into the passenger seat of the SUV you’re driving. 

“Hey,” he says casually, like this is something he does every day. And this is a regular part of your job, but it’s not every day one of you pretends to be blindly in love with a violent serial killer while she holds garden shears over your head. 

“Hey.” You give him a little smile, putting the van in drive. “Nice job. She looked really enchanted with you.”

“Thanks, I’m glad Hotch thought to bring the shoe to complete the fantasy.” Spencer brushes off the compliment easily, more than used to excelling. “It’ll be good for her to finally get the help she needs.” 

“Well, you were awesome.” You glance at him in the passenger seat, and he’s got his head propped on his elbow, looking out at the rolling hills and vast greenery of Montana. You look back to the road. “You make a great prince charming.” 

Spencer turns his face towards you. “Thanks,” he says again, this time with more feeling, and that sweetness is in his voice again. You like it best when it’s for you. 

[nothingenoughao3]

hai i'm curious about what twin peaks is, can you explain it to me (preferably without spoilers) /nf

Oh, is it my birthday?! Yes I can do that!

I will say that I generally do not consider things that happen in the pilot or first episode of a TV series to be "spoilers" so much as "premise". So anything I say here that's direct plot-stuff will only come from the pilot. All right? Let's dig in!

CAPSULE SUMMARY

Twin Peaks is a surreal/magical realism/police procedural/drama/horror/soap opera produced by David Lynch and Mark Frost. It had two seasons of 30 episodes total, a film (Fire Walk With Me), and a third season that came out 25 years later in 2017.

In the pilot episode, a teenaged young woman who everyone in town knows, Laura Palmer, is found murdered. The town reels to cope with her demise and the investigation. A second young woman is found alive and wandering--and she crossed state lines as she wandered. The police call in the FBI, since it's now a multi-state case, and in walks Special Agent Dale Cooper.

As Cooper begins his investigation, he discovers that there's far, far more going on in Twin Peaks than he'd first anticipated.

[NOTE HERE that Twin Peaks covers a LOT of extremely tough and triggering topics over the course of its run. DoesTheDogDie should have a list of all triggers, although those will come with spoilers. The main one to be aware of is that sexual assault, domestic abuse, and rape are discussed. The aftermath of these crimes is depicted. It's 1990, so it's not graphic as in Law & Order: SVU, but it is very much present. Please take care of yourself first!]

NOT-SPOILER REASONS TO WATCH IT

It is a vital historical work of art. Twin Peaks revived the police procedural, popularized soap operas as an art form, launched and relaunched multiple acting careers, introduced surrealism to multiple generations of TV watchers, taught basics of Buddhism, helped spread awareness of the Free Tibet movement, and inspired countless references and imitators. When you watch Twin Peaks, you'll feel like you've seen it before... because you've almost certainly seen something which only exists because of Twin Peaks.

David Lynch is Autism Patient Zero who does not compromise his writing or his vision for NT audiences. He writes dialogue and directs actors in a way that can only be described as "everybody's got the autism accent", and it is a DELIGHT to experience.

The visuals are, often, so strong that you will forget how to breathe. Many of the sets and locations are treated like characters in and of themselves.

The title, Twin Peaks, ties into the show's central themes about identity, which is one of my favorite themes in fiction. What makes you who you are? If there was someone who looked a lot like you, would that compromise who you are? What if they have the same name as you? Are you no longer who you are if you can't remember your past? Is it sometimes a good thing to change your identity? What if everybody thinks you did something unforgivable, but you don't remember it? Does society require all of us to have public faces and private faces? Does anyone really know another person's private face?

When I first watched it, nobody shipped Trucoop (Cooper with the local police sheriff, Harry S. Truman). Now it seems like everybody does and I am not alone, yaaay.

Features one of the very few trans characters in media at the time who was unambiguously positive!

Watch an episode, then pull up the IMDB and see who everyone is. I guarantee that you'll almost always find SOMEone who was famous for other stuff. If you like Star Trek, you'll find that half the damn cast was either on TNG or DS9. It is honestly astounding to me that Jeff Combs wasn't on the series (because, I assume, he was shooting Bride of Re-Animator and other stuff).

THINGS TO WATCH OUT FOR

The subtitling in some versions of the show (on DVD specifically) is really bad and unreliable. I found that the Netflix subtitles were OK. If you don't know about OpenSubtitle, I recommend using them to find better subtitles in case you need them.

As stated above, the show gets into really dark themes, and it does not shy away from them when necessary. I feel that these things are addressed in a sensitive way and frequently related to plot, but it hits everyone different.

The music... eh. I like the electro/late 80s theme and the instrumentals that back most of the scenes. But every time someone sings, I get the cringe. I've never been able to get on board with what Lynch thinks good music sounds like. But a lot of people do, so that could just be me.

It takes a lot of work to watch this show. Since so much of it is visual, it is absolutely a show you have to watch with no distractions. I found it to be worth it--past a certain point, I didn't want any distractions. But I get where it's a sacrifice of time and concentration.

If you watch it and enjoy it, you will probably end up with Lynchian Syndrome, where you are compelled to watch every other thing David Lynch has ever made and develop elaborate hypotheses on how they're all in the same universe and suchlike.

So yeah! I hope this gives you an spoiler-free idea of why this show is so special, and if you had any other questions about it, let me know!

[pb-dot]

Film Friday: Red Eye

After ridding myself of some bile last week, I believe it is time to return to the world of the sanguine movie recommendation. I have a theory that the best movies, the best stories overall really, come from making a universal experience into something exciting. Jaws preys on the ancient fear and fascination with the sea, The Matrix taps into the feeling of the world not being what it appears to be, and today's movie, Red Eye, describes both the allure and dangers inherent to sharing a transport seat pair with a beautiful weirdo.

Our protagonist in this chamber play is Lisa Reisert, played by the always astounding and captivating Rachel McAdams, a consummate professional hotel manager who finds herself seated next to a charming, and clearly interested stranger, Jackson Ripner, played by the equally astounding and captivating Cillian Murphy. What initially plays out like a romcom meet-cute, though, takes a sinister turn once the plane takes off and Jackson tips his hand. He's a Fixer, and he has stalked Lisa with the express intention of forcing her to comply with his plan, an assassination plot against a politician staying at Lisa's hotel. In addition to the physical danger he represents, Jackson also has men keeping close tabs on Lisa's father, with the instructions to murder him if Rippner doesn't call it off.

What follows is an incredibly tight chamber play as Lisa attempts to outsmart Rippner, who for his part treats the outing as a delightful romp until unearthing certain facts about Lisa's life seemingly provokes something ugly within him. It's a tight story that utilizes the setting of a plane in flight to the max, weaving in near misses and almost-escapes to ratchet up the intensity of the drama. Rippner's control seems absolute with every contingency accounted for, but it does come to a head in a staggering act 2 climax where Lisa, after having ostensibly given in and aided Rippners plan, shares the last secret that Rippner has been unable to unearth... and stabs him in the fucking throat.

Act 3 may be a bit less tight than the preceding two acts, and rely heavily on a pre-9/11 level of airport security, but DAMN if I don't think of it every time I hear the sound of the "Seatbelts On" light turn off. Act 3 is decidedly more hectic as Lisa rushes to escape Rippner, who is down but not out, save her dad, and foil the assassination plot.

Now, while the setting and screenplay are both pretty clever what mid-budget thrillers are concerned, what really makes this movie sing are the characters and their actors. Cillian Murphy truly has some otherworldly peepers, and he leverages a fascinating blend of intensity and charm in his Rippner persona. He's the perfect man, as long as you're ok with everything about him being a lie to further whatever goal he's working for, even his laid-back "I'm too evil to have feelings" shtick is an act, as evidenced by the possessive rage he displays when he discovers Lisa having managed to hide things from him.

And Lisa, oh, Lisa. I may not be the biggest fan of the reveal that the secret Lisa has kept from everyone, even Rippner, was a sexual assault, but I won't deny that there is a certain triumphant flair to how she has turned this traumatic event into a bedrock of strength. If she was a real person and not a fictional entity I would perhaps ask if this was a healthy coping mechanism, but I am not an expert in these matters. Either way, I love the way McAddams plays her, how she projects this people-pleaser-act, but avoids social interactions, preferring to concede whatever ground is necessary to make sure conversations end prematurely. It's never elaborated on, but just the way she decides to lie to Rippner about her preferred drink order to dodge the connection is some compellingly subtle stuff.

Let's not forget about the chemistry, though. The setup only works if we believe in the meet-cute idea for long enough to get suckered in, and both McAddams and Murphy bring their a-game here. She's reserved but friendly, and he's harmless and charming, of course, they're both acting at this point, but that only underlines the parallels. For their own reasons, Lisa and Jackson both project a more socially acceptable persona, and it is in the way these come to clash throughout the movie that it ascends from engaging potboiler to something quite special.

Also, this may be a tiny bit unprofessional, but I have never claimed to be anything more than a passionate amateur so here it goes. Wow is this a tough watch for us bisexuals. Rachel McAddams and Cillian Murphy are both handsome people in their own right, but together they've got some kind of additive effect to each other that just makes them hotter. Perhaps it's that they're both fucked up in their own way or maybe it's just the way that "traditional" romantic tension gives way to an intense rivalry that just flips all the Enemies To Lovers switches and makes the whole thing seem way more queer than it has any right to be. That could be wishful thinking, but either way, this was a movie I watched a ton of times before I realized my sexuality and I couldn't quite figure out what I found so compelling about it. Now, however, I will say it makes way more sense.

So, with that personal aside, I will conclude my talk on this movie. Go see it if you haven't already!

[crumb]

The cognitive dissonance needed for OFMD actors who’ve been actively posting about the genocide in Palestine for the past few weeks to then also praise fans raising $20,000 for some stupid fucking billboards for a show that’s been cancelled—a show run by a zionist and has zionists in the cast—it’s truly astounding to see these posts back to back in their IG stories. I saw one of the actors post about the slaughter, starvation, and torture of thousands in Palestine and then yippee! some fucking losers used their disposable income on something absolutely useless and in support of ppl who literally co-sign the atrocities in my previous ig story! in the next one. Are you spineless, stupid, or disingenuous? Or all three??

And when Guz Khan got fired from the show with little explanation over a year ago and there were Reddit threads about how “it’s not because he supports Palestine, that’s such a reach. Y’all need to touch grass” and now look. Does it still look like a reach to come to that conclusion? Maybe it had nothing to do with how outspoken he’s been about Palestine for years now but acting like there’s no way that could have been a reason? now more than ever, it seems like a likely possibility with people getting dropped from projects for speaking out against the genocide.

OFMD isn’t the be all end all for queer representation in media. it wasn’t cancelled because of homophobia, queer culture is extremely profitable (that’s what the studios ultimately care about if you thought about it for 2 seconds.) It’s almost rare nowadays for shows to live past 2 seasons. I need you guys to really think critically about how this shit works instead of defending this show and acting like it’s comparable to actual queer historical events and causes. Trying to get a third season of OFMD is not your stonewall and anyone making those kinds of comparisons should be ashamed.

[haydieks]

I, uh, I probably was commenting too much, but I really needed to let some thoughts out, so... Here I am, talking again.

So. I finished season 1, and I... *shaking head* It was wild. Just like I said before, great show which I wouldn't recommend to just anyone (because, yes, violence; not everyone can look at it, and you can't ignore it, because it's a part of Frank's story). But it's great. Scenes are intense, every one of them, you rarely get a chance to breathe out, and that's understandable, with Frank's hell of a life.

I was curious what's happened to Frank when he disappeared after 2nd season of Daredevil, and this explains so many things. I like that they paid attention to the details, so many of them, it did its part.

Characters don't leave you indifferent, you feel something about them anyway, let it be sympathy or disgust. Actors did an amazing job. And also, you know that the show is good when you feel sorry about side character's death. I mean, I felt that something was going to happen to Samuel Stein in that episode, but I hoped, maybe, I'm wrong. But I was not. And when he died, I cared. He wasn't, like, a character you get used to as much as to main ones, but he was nice and he was important, too. Hell, he was the first and only one who believed Dinah after lots and lots of tryings to talk to her.

Curtis? I almost prayed he stayed alive when all kind of shit kept happening to him. Damn, he's a good man and loyal friend and he tries so hard to help people. Thank goodness, neither Lewis nor Billy Russo killed him after all.

David? Well, as mush as he's kinda a character of a good will, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about him. Like, I really am glad he's okay now, just like I said before, but sometimes he just gives those...kinda weird? vibes I can't explain. Just something seems off. But, maybe, it's only logical, given the way he lived for a while.

Not sure if it's a good idea to mention all the characters, so yeah, I'll leave at that. "^^

Anyways, I really liked this and I definitely will be watching next season as well.

Oh, right! I'm also hoping we'll see Karen again, too! ✨ (gods bless Kastle interactions, they're astounding)

[zachary305]

My time at San Diego Comic-Con!

About a year ago, I was lucky enough to attend the 2023 San Diego Comic-Con with my dad. As an early birthday gift, we had bought tickets almost 6 months prior and I was beyond excited in the time leading up to it. I had never been to a con, so going to one for the first time, let alone one on such a large scale, was beyond intimidation, but I had a plan. I was going to cosplay, see all the biggest panels, wait in all the biggest lines, buy as much as I could carry and just generally have a great time. However, even before the event started I realized that I might have bit off more than I could chew. My original plan was to cosplay as chainsaw man. I was already building cardboard chainsaws and everything, but that plan quickly fell through as I realized I definitely wasn’t crafty enough for that. So instead, I decided to cosplay as The Spot from the animated film, Spiderman: Across the Spider-verse. I was more than proud of the cosplay I had created for it; I decided to go specifically with the outfit he was wearing when he was robbing the convenience store at the beginning of the film, so I didn’t have to go around in only a white morph suit. I handmade some of the costume using a white morph suit, black fabric, fabric pencils to create the sketchy style he has in the movie, the outfit he wore, and I even carried around a tiny atm (if you know, you know). It looked great, but seeing as at the time I was more on the heavy-set side, I was definitely grateful I went for the more covered look. 

Anyway, the time came and we arrived at comic-con, but that’s when the other flaw of my ambitious plan brought itself to light. This year’s comic-con was a little more lackluster in terms of panels and guests, because it was at the height of the actors and writers strikes. So some of the biggest names in movies and tv dropped out of the event because they had nothing they could present. I didn’t let that get me down though and I ended up attending some really awesome panels, like the HBO Animation panel where I got to see a first look at their brand new series, Fiona and Cake. I also had a BLAST on the showroom floor where I encountered things that I now recognize as part of the fandom experience as discussed in our course.

To start, my cosplay was a MASSIVE success. I was constantly stopped for pictures and it felt like I was a celebrity (carrying around the atm was a great choice). One of my most fond experiences on the floor was when a younger girl dressed up as Spider-Punk (a character from the same movie as my cosplay) ran up to me and started begging for a picture. Afterwards, she looked at me and asked “What did spiderman say when he caught the spot?”

I responded with “I don't know”.

and in the most excited voice imaginable she yelled “That hit the spot!”

She laughed and went back to her parents who thanked us and went on their way. I still think that is one of my favorite interactions I’ve had in regards to fandom and really encapsulates the idea of owning fiction. Cosplay is the perfect means of basically becoming the fiction you consume and it really does make you feel that you’ve accrued something worthwhile, even if it wasn’t anything more than cultural wealth.

So, back to the showroom floor experience. When we first walked in, I was astounded at the sheer number of shops and venues that existed. It was almost overwhelming, but not enough to make me turn back. Now when it comes to these venues, there were 2 things in particular I was surprised by; a majority of people actually cared enough about themself to wear deodorant and the amount of free stuff that the booths gave me was intense. It felt like every booth they were assaulting you with one trinket or another. One moment I was taking a picture with these spiderman statues and the next I’m being handed a free comic and a discount on the new spiderman game. Another moment I’m doing a photo op with a star wars speeder and as soon as I step off they hand me an umbrella (???). It was a lot, but I really enjoyed it. However, most of the free things weren’t from fans, but rather the brands themselves, looking to sell their product to me. The fan-ran booths were a completely different story.

I ended up buying less than I expected, but definitely enough to leave me satisfied. One of the things I bought was this star wars poster that I have hanging up in my dorm right now. Me and the artist really connected and he ended up signing the poster for me. However, that's one of the very few fan-offered content I bought, because what I found at the event was that most of the fan-content was extremely expensive and way out of my price range. Not to say they were priced incorrectly, but rather that I underestimated the value of the products they were creating. These artists were the perfect example of turning your own fan-experience into profit. They had everything from One Piece merchandise to Kingdom Hearts posters on display (I actually really wanted this one Kingdom Hearts poster but it was so expensive that it would have left me with no room to buy anything else). They had created this art out of their love for the fiction that inspired it and they were using this to accrue a real world profit. Like in Genshiken, they were creating productivity out of their fandom experience.

Looking back, I see now how the experience was an integral part in accepting my social identity. Before going to the event, I was a little nervous about how I would be perceived, in the same vein as the main characters in Genshiken. At the end of the day though, these were all people who enjoyed the same things as me and were also looking to express that. That was the reason I had such a good time, because it was an environment where I felt I could be excited about these weird things and not only be accepted, but celebrated. In a way, I was expressing and gaining my own cultural wealth, I just didn’t realize it.

At the end of the event, I was sad to go. Getting on the bus, I squeezed past Goku, asked if Iron-Man was holding those seats for anyone, sat down, and started reading a copy of Junji Ito’s Soichi I had bought earlier that day. It was my first time at a con and although it didn’t all go to plan, I still had an amazing time. I’m hoping to go to another con soon, because the experience I had was simply amazing. When you’re surrounded by people who are as passionate as you are about this culture, that's when you feel the most welcomed.

[themosleyreview]

The Mosley Review: Star Wars: Ahsoka

Being a hardcore fan of a franchise that has spanned over 40 years has its moments of joy and sorrow. The ups are always great, but weigh you down the most with sorrow. Even so, there is nothing like having your steadfast loyalty rewarded in so many fun and heartfelt ways. That is what this show encompassed in many aspects of its inception into the current state of the Star Wars franchise. Like the majority of you, I was there for the beginning of The Clone Wars that started as movie then eventually the beloved series. I was there for Star Wars: Rebels as well and to see all of those hours of content and many characters get their live action debut was something spectacular. This series continued the life of the most beloved Jedi into her adult years and for the most part it was fun. To say that there were some glaring flaws in the storytelling, logic and many things that were forced upon characters, is an understatement. This series truly had something special going for it and I would say that it reached half of its potential. Where I believe the series truly lacks is in its pacing and depictions of certain characters growth if any. This series is a reward yes, but its miles away from being the gold standard of the first 2 seasons of The Mandalorian or even Andor were.

Rosario Dawson returns as Ahsoka Tano and she was excellent once again. Ahsoka has a level of melancholy to her now since she is seemingly directionless in her journey. She still had some soul searching of her own to do as she faces her inner doubts and seemingly completes her training. I loved that aspect of her character and I liked her stoicism in the beginning, but often she came off very stiff. There are so many times where she came off too passive aggressive as the series continues and pauses for almost 30 seconds while in the middle of a sentence to make a more dramatic point. It felt like a directors choice than actors. Natasha Liu Bordizzo was a mixed bag as Sabine Wren. She captures her tech driven mind and her sassy and rebellious nature. Where I think she failed to really make the natural connection to her animated predecessor is her stoicism and whatever attitude to everything. It drove me up the wall the every time she seemed to just not care about anything or listen to the lessons being imparted on her by Ahsoka. Mary Elizabeth Winstead takes on the role of General Hera Syndulla and I think she nailed the confidence of the character. Her dedication to stopping the looming threat to the galaxy was felt and I liked seeing her call out the incompetence of the New Republic council. David Tennant was brilliant once again as the voice of the Jedi Training droid Huyang. To see him transfer from the clone wars to now was astounding and I loved his charm and bluntness. His chemistry with Ahsoka was one of the stronger parts of the series and I would love to sit back and listen to all of his stories. All of these characters are in search of Ezra Bridger and Eman Esfandi portrays the live action version of the character wonderfully. He is all grown up and still has that playful and plucky humor that made him fun to watch. I would’ve liked a little more maturity from him and for him to be more blunt on asking how he was found. There is a problem with his reunion that made the glaring issue of Natasha's portrayal of Sabine all the more painful for me. Everyone that other characters reunite with Ezra, there is a genuine emotional reaction from the characters except for Sabine. She comes off as if she hadn't seen him in 2 days when he's been gone for 10 years! It was truly a slap in the face to the idea that they were all a family once.

The villains of the series had alot to do and the build up to a particular one was brilliant and a satisfying payoff. The late great Ray Stevenson delivers one of his last great performances of his prestigous career as Baylan Skoll. He wasn't your typical Dark Jedi or Sith, but something more honorable and yet mysterious. The layers of wisdom and heart Baylan shows was fascinating and made the character more magnetic than any other fallen Jedi I've ever seen in some time. Ray did an outstanding job and I hope another picks up his baton and carries the character forward to honor his achievement. Baylan's apprentice Shin Hati played wonderfully by Ivanna Sakhno, was equally intriguing and intense. She may be following her master's lead, but you sense her eagerness to jump into the fight and sometimes go against Baylan's orders. Their banter was fascinating and a great contrast to Ahsoka and Sabine. Diana Lee Inosanto returns as Morgan Elsbeth and I liked her much more in this series. She gets to shine as we delve head first into her connection to the Nightsisters and Grand Admiral Thrawn. She may come off as one note, but she was a worthy challenge to Ahsoka and I was happy to see them face off once again. Lars Mikkelsen steals the screen as magnetic and calm Grand Admiral Thrawn. The transition from him voicing the character on Rebels to live action was seamless and I loved every second. Most will have a problem with the fact that he doesn’t really do much but talk in the series, but that’s why you have to build him up for the coming storm he shall bring upon the New Republic.

The score was emaculate and brilliantly composed by longtime Dave Filoni collaborator Kevin Kiner. This man captures the majestic nature of the John Williams' Star Wars sound and builds upon the foundations Kevin set in the animated shows before. I loved hearing Ahsoka's theme and "Sabine's Suite" from Rebels brilliantly weaved together into the main theme of the show. Grand Admiral Thrawn's theme was equally epic and grim. The entire score of Episode 5 of the season was the best of the series and I won't spoil the reason why. Visually, the show was stunning and I loved the lighting in most of the lightsaber fights and space battles. Although, I do hate the gray scale that seems to taking over the visual landscape of live action Star Wars now. Again, Episode 5 was the best visually and therein lies my problem with the series. You can have one of the best singular episodes, but it is only as strong as the show around it. The amount of dull pacing and sometimes poor direction of the actors made this series truly unbalanced and frustrating. Also, some of the action is truly shot horribly. Its okay to get closer instead of the constant static shot or standard pan over. The sense of urgency was ripped away in the finale because of some terrible direction and ended it on a "hmph" feeling. Also, I know the sentiment of giving characters a more samurai influence in fighting style, but my god please speed up the fighting. I love a well paced sword fight as much as the next guy, but in the latter half of the series, the fighting is so slow when you have an actual martial arts expert in the cast and you have her fighting someone that isn’t as skilled as they are. This has been a problem since the Sequel Trilogy began and it needs to stop. So in the lexicon of Star Wars live action shows, where does this sit for me? I'd say it sits in the category of mixed success to failure. It had the makings of an great arc, but fell flat due to poor direction and some illogical decision making. Let me know what you thought of the series or my review in the comments below. Thanks for reading!

[portentiial]

ok i get obsessive and then when it fades away i’m okay again. i’m not sure how much i should be going through that. i know i wasn’t treating him with enough empathy. i don’t know how much of his words are his and how much aren’t. i’ve learned that i shouldn’t take what he says to heart when he’s splitting, but when he comes back after the split and apologizes but still manages to reiterate my worst fears and i ask him to clarify if that’s how he actually feels and i get completely ignored and silent and mad and ready to cry because i feel completely used for someone who sees me as nothing but an anchor. i still don’t know if that’s true. i want to help him grow. i do. i really really do. he gets defensive if you even acknowledge his bpd might be affecting the way he acts, but it’s a hallmark of who he is. and he is so so so self aware. but i think him realizing it WHILE he’s doing it and his brain attributing some of his words and actions to BPD makes him feel gross and crazy and paranoid and guilty and i understand that. he shouldn’t. he’s experiencing normal emotions, the scale is just making him act differently than what i’m used to. things that might seem strange to me make sense when i reflect on them more. but the. the dropping me as a step to his own progress makes sense and i see why he would feel like that when i’m a constant source of bad feelings for him. i’m trying less not to take that personally. but it doesn’t feel like any progress. it’s him abandoning me. which i’ve been scared about since DAY ONE. which is something he’s been threatening to do to me since we first met. i’m not sure how going back to that is progress. maybe it is if he follows through with it. but it just kind of hurts right now. how is him forcing himself into solitude progress. he doesn’t deserve that. he deserves someone who knows him. who understands him and wants to listen and go through things and is present for him. he deserves someone who makes him feel good about himself!!’ he’s not crazy, and i think he’s pretty wonderful as a person and he deserves to know that. sometimes he acts a bit unfairly. and he’s definitely impulsive and rash. but you would be too if you went from like… euphoria to rage at the drop of a hat. and anxiety is never light it’s only paralyzing fear. it just like. astounds me that through all that this wonderful person came to me. i know that person is completely real. i see all of these posts about BPD and how people found out the person they were interacting with was just mirroring them… sorry but you can’t FAKE being funny…. you can’t MIRROR all of the knowledge he already has… the stuff that interests him is stuff that was always boring to me but to hear him talk about it. his viewpoint is so unique and he seems so genuine and the way he LIGHTS UP is so so real and his ideas and the worlds that he builds are something that i will always want to be apart of. i will always want to hold fucking round tables discussing the merits of a specific actor in a specific film. and i WILL always want to do more stuff with him. all the time, i think ‘it would be nice if michael were here. he would like this.’ but i’m only comfortable with him being a very low effort casual friend in that regard. when i keep in mind and am really really interactive with his bpd, nothing he does can hurt me. it’s just kind of hard because he’s not always exhibiting it very much. when he does something that DOES hurt me it’s almost always a symptom of his BPD but my emotions really have a hard time sussing that out. i keep in mind his emotions are unregulated, but i also have a hard time realizing that a lot of the guilt and self hatred he has over HAVING bpd is just as much a reason for his words and actions as his actual symptoms are.

[archivalofsins]

I don't like making corrections on these sorts of things without a good deal of evidence. Because this is a very subjective thing. Yet, I listen to Mikoto a lot. Not just the music videos but the covers and the voice dramas.

I can say with certainty I know the difference in tones by now.

So, I'm going to try to explain, why with references, I believe the bold is Mikoto and the italics are John along with break down the differences I've picked up on.

(Got some sleep and decided to edit this for clarity and to fix spelling errors. Sorry if it came off confusing due to spelling and grammatical errors before. Edited: 05/20/24 11:16 am)

In the case of Monopoisoner that's literally mostly Mikoto singing. When voicing Mikoto (the prisoner) the voice actor puts a lilt in their voice that edges upward.

X

However, with Mikoto (John) it goes downward mainly remaining consistent throughout and not undulating like Mikoto's (the prisoner).

X

That undulation is what gives Mikoto's (the prisoner) tone this consistent feeling of rising tension when he speaks regardless of how polite he's attempting to be. It also makes his singing very fun to listen to especially when he's speaking fast in Monopoisoner.

We can also do this fun thing called comparing the voice actors singing voice from other properties. Most prominently for me Vanitas in The Case Study of Vanitas where one can hear that undulations is not present or leaned into as much as it is here.

Le formidable!

Back to Milgram-

This aspect of his vocal performance is most prominently displayed throughout Monopoisoner. Where most of the tone is Mikoto's lighter almost taunting/teasing one putting this undulation front and center. Something that gives off the verbal equivalent of a skipping feeling or what would be considered a sing-song way of speaking normally that comes off childish, mirthful, casual, or flippant despite what's being said.

It's a very lighthearted but firm tone that gives off the impression the singer believes fully in every word that,

"Of course I can do something like this it's only natural right."

That really suits the song chosen. This tone perfectly contrasts and emphasizes the sharper, firmer, lower breaks in it throughout the song. Highlighting his growing irritation well. 2:20-2:27

Mikoto's Monopoisoner cover plays around with the same tone he uses in MeMe here 1:48 to 2:36.

Also, Mikoto (the one Es refers to as John) can be heard saying I won't forgive you while this is being sung here. Displaying a more tired and dragging voice in the background in contrast to the singing we've been hearing throughout the song.

This also makes it sound as though Mikoto is replying to them going, "No I won't forgive you if it turns out I'm right." Which was more than likely the intended purpose behind putting that there.

I'm mostly stating this to show that Mikoto's (John) voice is in their first song and still tired as fuck. This is also him here if the bags under the eyes visuals are anything to go by which I personally believe they are. Since they've been associated with Mikoto (John) and only him in contrast to Mikoto who has none at all. Plus, didn't have any when he was brought here until Mikoto (John) was out.

Yet, if that's not enough to go off of notice the change in inflection. Now instead of lilting upward his voice is dragging down and more consistent not undulating as much throughout. Compare that to the tone right after and the difference is astounding.

It's not even a difference in emoting, it's the pitch, the cadence, the firmness, and clarity of the voice.

That even when Mikoto attempts to imitate this lighter tone earlier on in the song he can't. His voice while light is direct clear and unwavering lacking the hesitance and uncertainty verbally displayed in the later scene. Still lilting upwards giving it this positive and jovial sound.

Unlike the whispered talking we hear in the background.

So, how can one tell whose singing in Reversible Campaign-

Well simple just compare how they speak in the voice dramas and music videos side by side if you have the time for that or are just obsessed like me.

I.E the tone at the beginning of Reversible Campaign is clearly Mikoto (the prisoner) to me because his cadence and inflection matches the one prominently heard through MeMe. Something the sub lyrics of Double have Mikoto take onus of.

Meaning that to his own added on admission was all his song.

That's not even sung in the lyrics proper but it is hard coded into the visuals of the song.

The visuals directly from Mikoto's own mind.

That song is his contrasting with Mikoto (John) directly and bluntly stating,

"It couldn't be helped, I'm DOUBLE."

Furthermore Mikoto (the prisoner) relies on growling a lot more when singing in contrast to Mikoto (John). As this is something from MeMe not leaned on as much in Double. This extends to his covers where he blatantly adds growls whenever he can.

Oh, but growling is angry so it must be Mikoto (John) doing that- Okay that's subjective and if you believe that then more power to you I suppose.

Back on track here's Mikoto growling in both MeMe and Double. Then here's the most prominent one in MeMe that matches the first one we hear that I linked above. Along with him doing it again in Monopoisoner for good measure where he growls and then goes straight back into his lighter tone.

Mikoto (John) can be heard accompanying him again here as the tone in the background lilts downward.

They're just layered right on top of each other.

Making it clear to me that the voice we start out with in Reversible Campaign- The one that has an undulating pitch and is more casual but direct is Mikoto (the prisoner) since that's the exact tone he regards the audience with in MeMe.

He even ends the opening with a growl. Something he's been doing since the jump 0:20-0:36.

All while politely and with that peppy customer service tone that swings upwards in pitch firmly telling the audience what's going to happen the same as he does in Double 1:48-2:15.

That's just touching on tone and not the difference in language they use.

I don't know if this is helpful or not but that's how I've been noticing the difference. Now that I've gone and pretty much announced I'm obsessed with this character and listen to these songs far too much hope everyone has a good day.

I'm going to go try and be normal now.

Is there really a difference in the voices in monopoisoner or reversible campaign? I don't hear a difference

[emile-hides]

H*lding H*nds Imagines

I am once again making content for me and me alone because I have an unhealthy obsession for BNHA blond boys

BNHA Blond Boys X GN!Reader h*nd h*lding moments

Characters: All Might, Present Mic, Fatgum, Twice, Aoyama, Ojiro, Kaminari, Bakugo, Honenuki, Monoma, Mirio

All Might

Knuckle brush

You handed him things before

Stacks of papers to grade, coffee after a long day, a napkin when he goes into a coughing fit

But something about this time turns his face a deep red

He withdrew quickly, in a jerking manner that dragged more attention than you’re sure he meant it to

He cleared this throat and thanked you quietly before shuffling off

It took a few moments to really set on you

You’d made contact

Such little contact you’d barely even felt it

He was cold, his skin rough and calloused, wrinkled and dry

How you managed to notice so much with such brief contact is astounding

And also incomparable to how much he noticed

He’s thinking about it all day, glancing at where the contact was made, shuffling, flushing to himself, holding his knuckles to his lips

Do it on purpose next time you hand him a stack of papers and he’ll drop them

Present Mic

In a crowd

It’s LOUD

You and Hizashi are trying to get home after a live show

The crowd is huge and still hyped from the concert

The quarters are tight, the space is limited, and without his towering hair spike it’s hard to keep track of your loud blond

Eventually a strong clasp from a hand horribly decorated in rings, fingerless gloves, and black nail polish claps on your wrist as your continued to be pulled though a crowd

When the world finally starts to calm and you have room to breath his hand slides to connect to your palm

Fingers intertwine with yours as a series of “Y’all good?”s start, followed quickly by an excited narration of the chaos that just ensued

He’d taken your hand so causally you barely even noticed

The two of you walked in a much calmer crowd, hand in hand, as Hizashi randomly picked bystanders out of his vocal range and made up their life stories to tell you

Fatgum

Big hands

You laid idly on the couch in Fatgum’s office, the interns long sense gone home

A pile of paperwork blocked your view of your hard working hero as he sat at his desk

You slumped and slid off the couch, boredom rising as you phone lie dead on the table nearby

A loud groan drives a “Just a bit longer, gumdrop” from behind the piles of unfinished work, a bit longer could be years for all you cared

Sliding across the hardwood floor on your back, you found yourself beside Taishiro’s desk, looking up at him from an angle you were rather use to

He was focused, with a smile still on his face as he worked, writing with one hand, the other causually turning Takoyaki in the grill built into his desk

You sat up, watching quietly. He was typically pretty observant, but he may not yet have noticed your approach

When his hand stopped turning and released, you took your chance

Both your hands snatched his wrist, sitting up a bit to rest yourself on his lap, you examined his large palm

He chuckled, “What’cha doin’, cupcake?”

His hand was massive in your own, enough to make anyone feel like a child. It could engulf you, hold half your torso and still have a pinkie to spare

You pressed on his palm, he hummed and returned to work, leaving you to admire as you pleased

His knuckles were scarred, several gashes and scrapes from punching at materials harder than even his fat could handle

Old burns from cooking, white spots on his finger tips from a time before he learned patients

You leaned back on him, holding his hand in your own, and watched him work

He seemed much more blissed from your company

Twice

Not enough hands

Jin’s a very physical person

He hangs off you every chance he can get, coddling and loving on you

He finds it annoying

So it’s not surprise as you two settled down for a movie night he was instantly on your lap like a cat

He lays over you like a blanket, limbs tangled every which way, head on your chest, looking at you more than the movie

One of your hands lay idly by your head, that one he has his own over, fingers tangled messily, almost uncomfortably

His other arm trapped under you, a hug from below, resting also uncomfortably against your spine

Leaving your free hand to tangle in his hair, a rare sight to have his mask off, though it probably wouldn’t last the whole movie, it should be cherished until then

When you notice his staring at you more than the screen, you choose to join him

You slide your hand from his hair to his cheek, he leans into it with the most lovestruck puppydog look a man his age could muster

He then starts to fidget around, moving like he’s stuck

It doesn’t take long from there for him to start getting frustrated with himself, splitting an argument for two between just him

You gently lift his head to regain eye contact and ask what’s wrong

He nearly starts crying

“I want to hold your cheek too but I don’t have enough hands!!”

He’s not willing to remove your hand from his hold or pull his other arm out from under you to compromise his own needs

He does eventually start crying over his lack of extra limbs to love you with

Aoyama

Standing ovation

Roaring applause rippled thought the auditorium

It wasn’t a big show, or a big stage, but it was your first written play, and seeing it go over so well was enough to bring a tear to your eyes

You joined the audience in standing to applause as the actors took the stage for the final bow

Only the lead, your star, wasn’t there with them

You blinked once, twice, three times before panic set in

There’s no way Yuga Aoyama would miss the chance to stand center stage in a spotlight. If he wasn’t on stage something must have happened

You tried your best not to look around too fervently, not wanting to startle anyone else

When a hand clasped yours

“And let’s not forget the playwright~✨”

Before you could question how he said that with his mouth, you were dragged onto the stage by your previously mentioned star, with his own mic in hand you don’t remember giving him

He held your arm up above his head as he runway walked his way along the stage, you closely in toe

You were going to go on stage eventually but you’d planned to be a lot more quiet about it, when more people had left early not wanting to sit though the applause

But instead, here you were, center stage, hand held high like you’d just won a boxing match by your own and only Aoyama

How he could stand being this bright all the time way beyond you

For now though, it was rather nice 

Ojiro

Lost and found

You stepped out of your class stretching, ready for a well deserved lunch break when you heard your classmates muttering

“Isn’t he from the hero course?”

“What’s he doing?”

Being nosy wasn’t usually your strong suit, but the mutterings has peaked your interest

You followed the eyes of those speaking to find a blond boy sitting in the floor of the hall, knees pulled to his chest to keep his legs from disrupting the flow of traffic, with his tail resting over his feet to protect them from being stepped on

He smiled and gave a light wave to your class as the dispersed

You alone approached him, curiosity peaking. Why was he sitting out here in the hall?

When question he very sheepishly answered, “I, uh.. I got lost on my way to class”

There was several things wrong with that

Number one being, he’d been at this school half a year now. He has one classroom, a big classroom, in the hero course. It’s not easy to miss??

Number two, it was noon. Lunchtime. He has one classroom. How long had he been lost???

These questions had answers and he was, while slightly embarrassed, happy to share he had, in fact, been lost all morning. Not just in finding his class, but also in finding the exit to the building, any teachers he knew, or his phone to call for help

You began to feel sorry for the guy, as this seemed to be a common occurrence in his daily life

With a sigh, you offered your hand to help him up

It was lunch, for all courses, so surely he’d see his hero course classmates in the cafeteria. No one turns up Lunchrush’s food after all

He smiled and took your hand, lifting himself from the floor with a thankyou

“I’m Ojiro, by the way. You are...?”

He was rather polite to talk to the entire walk, his grip on your hand was soft, gentle, and his smile never seemed to waver

Kaminari

Swing yer partner round and round

“Oh this is my JAM!”

Mina excitedly turned up your shitty little radio before kicking herself up off the floor, grabbing Sero all in one quick motion

The two danced horribly off beat, you quickly guess Mina had never heard this song before in her life, just wanted to get moving

“Come on you two, it’s dance break time!”

You found yourself enraptured with her energy, already forgetting the homework you all were doing

Kaminari took your hand much like how Mina took Sero’s and began to dance just as off beat and spuratic as queen pinkie had

You laughed, stumbling with every step, same as the others, the giggling energy filling a previously silent room

Denki’s fingers dug into your knuckles as he smirked, suddenly spinning on his heel and dragging you with him

The two of you became a tornado in your tiny dorm room, barely keeping from knocking into your tea table as you spun like a couple of children

You could hear Mina cheer and laugh, a brief glanced told you Sero was recording this silly moment

You looked across the way at your dance partner

Spinning, laughing his head off like this was the most fun he’d ever had, eyes closed, caring not for his surroundings

You decided to let go

The momentum sent you both toppling, you safely into Mina, who was more then ready to catch you

Denki got the much less desirable aforementioned tea table, which sent him toppling backwards over the also aforementioned homework

If you all could have laughed any louder, you would

Bakugo

Sweaty hands

You always knew when Bakugo was going to hold your hand

He may think he’s smooth, wiping his hand on the pocket of his pants before reaching behind himself to grab at you

But you’d always notice

It was a good indicator you were walking too slow for his liking, or the area up ahead was crowed, or that he simply felt you were too far away

You couldn’t initiate holding hands, when he didn’t actively want to be in contact he’d keep his hands shoved deep in his pockets

So you just had to wait for him to wipe himself off and reach for you

You were free to wrap yourself around his arm whenever, though

He’ll look pissed, but won’t say a word

And if you move away, he’ll wipe his hand on his pants, and offer it to you, a silent plea for you to come back

Honenuki

Magic hands

You stretched out over the couch of the 1-B common room with a whine, the rest of your class in a similar state

Training was hell today, sparing with class 1-A was never a joke, and with Monoma egging the whole game up to be more than it should have been, it all just escalated to a point you all wish it hadn’t

“Alright, next.”

Honenuki, a godsend, your blessed angel, helped Tsuburaba off the second common room couch, his typically wide eyes closed and relaxed as he wobbled his way across the room

You happily took his place, stretching out on your stomach before your classmate with the magic powers of massage

His hands pressed into your back and you instantly relaxed, letting out a low hum as you snuggled the pillow under your chin

Honenuki returned your hum, his hands pressing into all your tenses spots, almost instantly releasing them from their knots

You’d probably have fallen asleep, if it wasn’t over so fast

He had the entire class to get though after all, though he hated to rush an art form

You took his hand as he helped you stand, the actual minute of his touch enough to wobble your legs

Kissing his knuckle and thanking him for sharing his magic, you found yourself plopped peacefully on the couch beside Tsuburaba

Honenuki chuckled at you as he called next, happy to be of service

Monoma

He’s showing off

You’d known for a while now Monoma didn’t know how to shut the fuck up

He’d brag about anything, over anyone, to everyone

He’d always loudly bragged about how much better his class was, how much stronger his friendships were, how absolutely amazing his partner was

You being said partner didn’t make said bragging less annoying

The two of you had been together less than an hour and he was already boasting about your perfection to all who would hear

Some genuine, loving, almost gaggingly sweet comments

Others just to rub it in the face of class 1-A as much as possible

A week into this relationship and people were starting to think you must be come kind of god with how Monoma spoke about you

You’d been on two dates with the guy

Now here you were, holding his hand on the walk to class, and regretting every step

As every single person who passed must take note of the fact you were holding his hand

And also must be aware how blessed he is to be holding your hand in return

And really you started to understand the concerned look Kendo gave you when you told her you’d agreed to date Neito Monoma

Still his words were genuine, no matter how they came across, and he truly had a million and one things to say about you

So you could hold though the embarrassment his overexcited bragging may cause

He just wants to show you off

Mirio

Quietly

You sat by his bed side, holding gently to his limp hand

Moments ago he was inconsolable, crying and screaming his lungs out

His quirk gone

His teacher gone

Everything he worked so hard for seemed to vanish in an instant

His grip, still so strong, had left your hand bruised, circulation cut off

It wasn’t a concern you really had

Sleeping, his pain was still so obvious

Bags under his eyes, dried streaks of tears still down his keeps

And your hand still tightly gripped in his

What would happen next, where he would go, who you all would become

They were all problems for the future

Tomorrow you could work on a solution

Tonight, you could hold his hand

[chika-the-terrible]

Another Syndicate AU has struck my mind, specifically for Rothfrye, and now I’m gonna subject you guys to it. It’s lengthy and weird, but here it is anyway!

Basically, it starts with Roth as a sculptor in a Modern AU. He’s an actor at night but acting isn’t enough to pay the bills so he has to sculpt things to make a living. One day, Starrick commissions Roth to make a beautiful sculpture of some kind, just as long as it’s good, and so Roth gets this huge stone to work with. He starts carving a figure out of it and then gets another commission from Henry, who’s seen Roth’s other works and also wants a sculpture. Roth accepts but doesn’t know if he can find another block and carve it in time for Henry’s commission. It’s Lewis (Roth’s ex-boyfriend and occasional model) who suggests that Roth splits the block he’s working on. Roth’s already half-finished a woman from one side of the block, it wouldn’t hurt for him to use the rest of it to make her twin, and it also solves the problem with Henry. So that’s what Roth does.

Eventually he has two sculptures, a man and a woman each. The sculpture of the man had a couple of cracks on its face that Roth managed to smooth into scars, so they’re not too discernible. He doesn’t know what names to give them but they’re absolutely amazing, almost lifelike. He even feels a bit drawn to the male one, who he put a bit more work into that with the woman. The man doesn’t look anything like Lewis, either, to which Roth is proud of because he didn’t have to use a model to come up with the face.

These are basically their poses (Man on the left, Woman on the right):

However, the night after the sculptures are finished, something weird happens. Roth’s not sure how, but the next morning, he finds that the fabric covering on the male sculpture, itself also carved from stone, has moved. It’s still hard and hasn’t cracked, it’s just changed positions somehow, like the stone itself moved.

But because sculpting’s really not Roth’s thing, he plays it off as misremembering how he carved it. Henry then stops by, takes one look at the woman, and immediately falls in love. Since Roth wasn’t sure which sculpture would go to which man, he lets Henry keep the woman sculpture. That leaves the man, who is to be kept with Roth until Starrick can come by to examine it and retrieve it, which won’t be for at least a month because of his busy schedule. So Roth’s stuck with the male sculpture.

That night, after he returns from his night job as an actor and goes to sleep, he gets awoken by crashing noises. Grabbing his gun, he goes to investigate and immediately comes across the source of the problem: A couple of clay pots he had been working on had fallen and smashed to pieces. However, they had been knocked over by none other than the male sculpture himself, who was up and walking around like an actual person. Roth is astounded by this turn of events but he doesn’t have long to think about it, as the man looks very skittish. Roth has to calm him down with gentle words and even gentler hands, which manages to work, but the male sculpture is still nervous, and that’s when Roth realizes that he was probably looking for his sister. So Roth tries to call Henry, who sounds absolutely terrified on the other end because he just found the woman sculpture and she looks very much like she wants to punch his lights out. But then the male sculpture uses his finger to tap on a table, which echoes across the line, and the woman taps back excitedly. They can’t speak but they can still understand each other somehow. It’s the best thing that happens that night, as Roth and Henry aren’t sure what to make of the two sculptures that suddenly came to life.

The next morning, it’s learned that the two are kinda like the people in the Night at the Museum movies in that they can’t move or come alive during the day but are fully able to be themselves at night. Roth and Henry don’t know why it’s happened, since it only seems to be affecting the two sculptures, but they know they have to figure something out. Roth especially sets to work in trying to make a new sculpture before Starrick comes calling so that the male sculpture won’t fall into Starrick’s hands.

And, slowly, Roth and Henry learn more about their mute friends and slowly fall in love. They try not to, being as the sculptures are just beings of stone that have nothing to them otherwise, but it happens anyway. And the sculptures show in their own ways that they have the capacity to love and they love the men right back.

[poptod]

Will You? (Rami Malek x Reader)

Description: Meeting Rami in the back alley behind an awards show.

Notes: ugh ive been having writers block for the first time in like two years so ive only been writing short stuff. i have a couple fics backpiled for various rami characters so thats coming up! gender neutral as usual WC: 1.5k

+

Ugh.

How quickly it all became too much. You wondered, clutching your aching head, why you even came here; large parties were never your scene, public events even less so. A world-wide broadcasted movie awards event was nothing near anything you'd done before. Earlier in the day, as you were dressing and readying yourself for the evening, you stared into the mirror and wondered then, as well, what you were doing.

Maybe––probably––it had to do with the fact that one of your favorite actors' presence was assured, and you rarely ever visited New York, making this the first time you'd been in the right place at the right time to have the opportunity to do this. You steeled yourself then and you steeled yourself now, digging into your clutch bag to pull out a carton of cigarettes.

You fumbled with the cigarette as you reached back in, searching for your lighter. A frustrated grumble grew in your mouth and came out as a curse. With a harsh sigh you yanked your hand out, throwing it up into the air, and sitting with a thud on a wooden box laying by the side of a large trash bin. You rubbed your face harshly, attempting to wipe away the irritation. To no avail––you had no lighter, and your nerves were itching, teeming with aggravation that crawled like bugs beneath your skin. You needed this and the world didn't like you.

The door you'd left the building from opened once more, swinging shut with a loud clanking sound that seemed to echo in the vacant alleyway. Drops of water fell into the puddles at your feet, still present from the earlier rain, and now filled with bits of trash. The very same water almost splashed onto you as a car passed by, its' wheels revving and spinning away through a massive puddle. It must've been midnight, but assholes were still awake as well, and the city lights showed no sign of stopping.

This was why you only visited New York City.

"Here," someone with a deep, rough voice spoke, and you looked up to find a vein-filled hand balancing a blue lighter between the second and third fingers.

There weren't any active lights in the alleyway, but the puddles reflected the street lights that stood a few meters away. That was enough to recognize him when you glanced to his face.

Rami fucking Malek.

He turned almost the second you looked up at him, meaning he didn't catch the sudden, stumbling recognition that flooded your expression. Thankfully, you had the time to calm yourself before he sat down across from you on a dirty (and probably wet) stool.

"Thank you," you said, lighting your cigarette and breathing in the sweet smoke before you said anything else. "You're a lifesaver."

"No, I just have a smoking problem," he said.

You both laughed, softly, and looked away.

You took another drag.

"You're Rami Malek, aren't you?" You said through the smoke that escaped you. It was rough on your throat, but you didn't especially care anymore. Somehow, you remembered a flask of water––just not the lighter.

"Yeah," he said with another soft, bashful, chuckle.

"I like your work. Or, your style," you mumbled as you tapped the ashy end away. He might've been a star of your dreams, and mere images of him might've taken your breath away, but you would treat him like a regular person. "It's.. unique, but familiar."

"Thank you," he said, nodding, a charming grin on his face. "May I ask your name?"

"(Y/N)." You shifted in your seat as you looked down. An ounce of humor came to you once you said, "you won't recognize the name."

"No, but I'm happy to recognize it in the future," he said, tilting his head in your direction.

You broke out in a laugh and a wide, blushing grin, shaking your head. God, he looked good in a suit––all black. Silver in his lapel. His neck revealed colored veins that led up to a jawline that would surely cut you. Why was he talking to you? Why was he being nice?

"You're a charmer," you finally said through your giggling, continuing with, "do you want some?" before he could say anything.

You handed the cigarette to him and he took it, pursing his lips and letting go with a puff of smoke. Even in the hot, humid air, those clouds coalesced and drifted away just as usual.

"You're not an actor," he stated, his eyes fixed on the cigarette as he tapped the ashes away. "Not here for that, so why are you here? Just out of curiosity."

"That's... a very good question," you said with an exasperated laugh. "I'm a teacher, I don't know what I'm doing here."

"Teacher?" He repeated. "My brother's one of those. What d'you teach?"

He handed the cigarette back to you.

"Third graders," you grumbled. He sucked in a sharp breath in a wince. "I usually do first graders, but not this year."

"That's rough, I've heard those are demonic years," he said, earning a laugh from you.

"Yeah, that's a good way of putting it," you said as you doted on the cigarette. "I guess this is just the first time I've visited New York when an awards show is happening."

"How do you like the big screen life so far?"

"Not very much, but I never thought I would," you said quietly, but he still chuckled. "I... I did think about being an actor, when I was a kid. I think a lot of kids do these days, though. Actors are.. like the new Gods. You know, in ancient times people would worship idols, and that's what people call you now..." you met his gaze and couldn't tear yourself from it, "... idols. Images of something to strive for."

He nodded, his brow creased in deep thought.

"After a while the world shows you what celebrity life is really like, and you read all sorts of things, see how people change... eventually you don't really want it anymore," you said, shrugging. "Or you decide you want it, or want part of it despite the other stuff."

He nodded again but had little to say despite being a celebrity himself.

"Which was it for you?"

"Hm?"

A spell broke over his eyes and he appeared to return to normal, having not heard or comprehended your words.

"Did you become an actor because you wanted all of it, with the bad parts, or you wanted a specific part and still became an actor despite all the other things?"

"... complex question," he said after a moment, rocking his balance back and forth awkwardly as you laughed. "I wanted to become other people, transform myself into characters. I was attracted to the job. Not the other things attached to it."

"Well I'm glad you became an actor anyway," you said, relighting the cigarette with a quick drag. "That way I could meet you."

"And I could meet you, as well," he said in that same, deep voice he used when he first spoke to you.

You could do nothing but chuckle and cast your eyes down, shaking your head.

"Yeah, I guess you could," you mumbled.

He reached forward, snagging the cigarette from between your fingers. That made you look up, drawing your attention back to the subtle lines marking his face, and the glow of fire that revealed cool, green eyes behind thick lashes.

A loud wave of cheering came from inside the building, and the both of you looked back at the steel door. Still unopened.

"I should probably get inside, the cameras might notice my seat's empty," he said in a similar mumble.

The cigarette, now nothing more than a filter, dropped from his lips and fell to the ground, squashed beneath his shiny, black shoe.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Have to be," you said as you stood. "Not wasting a fifty dollar ticket on my damn social anxiety."

He chuckled and said, "I'd invite you to sit with me, but there aren't any free spots. How about..." He'd been opening the door, but he paused, causing you to misstep and halt yourself only when your chest was an inch from his. Your eyes darted up to his. "Come see me after the show. I have a '97 bottle of Montalcino at home that I think you'd enjoy."

You nearly choked on your own spit, but fortunately for you, it only came out as a cough and a clearing of the throat. 'What', almost escaped your mouth in the most astounded tone before you bit it back.

Was he propositioning you? Was this a friendly invitation? Why was, again, Rami fucking Malek asking to spend anymore time with you than he had to?

You realized a silence had spanned between you when his eyes flickered down to your lips, at which point shock fully brought you back into your body.

"Will you?" He asked hopefully.

"Yeah," you murmured. "I'd like that."

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

comma, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook, former seokjin x reader

summary: Both Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook are convinced that no one can give it to you like they can. You agree. That’s true. But also, that doesn’t mean you don’t want both. You are a masochist, after all. Question is, do they want to be the next phrase, the comma after Kim Seokjin?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; alludes to attempted suicide; descriptions of explicit D/s relationship; intense smut (fem reader, choking, restraints, spit-roasting [mouth/pussy], anal fingering, double penetration [pussy/anal]); shifting POVs between Yoongi, Jungkook, and you; non-idol!AU; rich heir, dom!Yoongi x tattooed, sub!reader x tattoo artist, dom!Jungkook

--

punctuation au semicolon ; | exclamation mark ! | period . | comma , question mark ? | apostrophe ‘ | quotation mark “

-

Neither of them expected your address to be the house it was.

For Min Yoongi, who was dropped off by a chauffeur in an unmarked black SUV, he looked up to the modern-style, two-story single home and was surprised. It was in a nice part of town. Lots of trees, neat grass. Yoongi was astounded that the house was so small, at least compared to his house. He never had a reason to walk in such a neighborhood before.

How quaint.

For Jeon Jungkook, who had taken a bus and walked partway, he was also surprised. This was a nice neighborhood, well-kept and clean. Were you really this rich? He thought his apartment was big, but it wasn’t a house. You did wear high-end office attire and carry a briefcase. Maybe you were more well-off than he thought.

How cool.

Both of them stopped at the same time.

Their eyes connected, realizing they were walking to the same destination.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes. Who the fuck was this guy? Knee-length black coat, white shirt, fitted black jeans. Long, straight black hair half-tied back, sculpted handsome features. Dark brown eyes with a hint of danger. Taller than him. More muscular than him too. Definitely stronger than him. The younger man furrowed his brows, studying Yoongi with a piercing gaze.

Yoongi cocked an eyebrow.

Jungkook frowned. Who the fuck was this? Some kind of rich punk with an elegant black suit, tailored perfectly to his body. Black tie with a white gold tie clip. Black dress shirt, but expensive, because it had little details like the double-layered black and white collar and the designer logo imprinted on the fabric, black-on-black. Shiny black oxfords, probably worth a damn car payment. He had sharp, cat-like eyes, predatory and superior. Dark hair, shorter than his, lightly curled and shadowing his eyes. Styled. This guy was definitely way, way richer than Jungkook.

Jungkook clicked his tongue.

“It’s you. Isn’t it?” they both said at the same time.

How annoying.

They both thought the same thing at the same time.

Is this what you’re into? There’s no way this guy is better than me at pleasing you.

Yoongi turned his head and began to walk up the path that led to your front door. This guy didn't matter to him. All he would have to do is simply convince you he was the correct choice and punish you for pulling this kind of stupid stunt. He didn't like it, but perhaps that was why you asked not to be exclusive. 

Jungkook followed a step behind, irate. How did you meet such a rich guy? Then again, you were apparently dating actor Kim Seokjin, so maybe that's how. Hmph. Well, that didn't matter. You weren't faking it. Jungkook remembered how you felt around him, how your voice changed when he was cock-deep inside you. You can’t fake something like that.

Your front porch was clean white concrete. It had a large white vase with a single leaf sticking out of it. A black doormat, completely plain. White door, no real defining features. No window, no door knocker, no fancy trim. Almost unlived in. 

Yoongi's eyes went up to the ceiling. Trailing down to the far end of the porch. There were several sturdy sea hooks screwed into the wood beams and a deliberately placed cluster of trees and bushes in front of said area.

Interesting. 

Jungkook pressed the doorbell impatiently. 

Yoongi didn't say anything. He didn't try to fight this young man or anything crass like that. The kid was a fool if he thought he could win this one. You were his. He had decided and that was that. It didn't matter who else tried to involve themselves. He did not break his pattern to be upstaged by a commoner.

Jungkook wondered if he had pissed the stranger off by pushing the doorbell first. One look at the guy and Jungkook knew he hadn't. What was he so cool and collected for? Is this what mattered to you? Money? That couldn't be true. You came back. You ran to see him. If all you cared about was money, then there would be no reason to even humor him. 

Once again, they both thought the same thing at the same time. 

There's no one who can give it to you like I can. 

The door opened. 

-

You unlocked the door, already knowing who it was. 

Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook glared at you from your doorstep. Yoongi in a trim black suit, Jungkook in that same long black coat you had seen him the last time and black jeans. Completely different backgrounds, completely different people, same authoritative energy. 

Kim Seokjin, your former dom, your former Master, had fucked you over. Even now, when you were no longer his, he was torturing you, putting you in dangerous situations. And, fine. Maybe you liked it, at least a little. Seokjin knew you well.

It would either work or not. Only one way to find out. 

"Explain." 

One word, from Yoongi's lips. His voice made your spine tingle, raspy and demanding. Your eyes flickered to his dark brown orbs, then to Jungkook's. Your hand left the door and you backed up.

"This wasn't my idea," was your calm reply.

You were wearing a fluffy white robe that touched the floor, pooling a little. Hair freshly blow-dried, clipped up because you didn't have time to style it. No makeup. You turned, the smooth fur train sprawling out behind you on the tile floor of your home.

"Whose idea was it, then?" Jungkook snapped. 

Your head looked back, watching them in your peripheral vision. A look both knew well. Too well. 

"My former dom."

You lowered the shoulders of the robe, revealing the pink lattice of whip lines all over your back, a deliberate pattern made by an expert. Jungkook's eyes widened. Yoongi's eyes roamed over your back, turning hungry. You pulled up the robe, knotting it once more. 

"Kim Seokjin."

You paused. Ah. Your eyes connected with Yoongi's at his statement. 

"You know him?"

"Everyone knows him," Jungkook cut in. "The question is, why do you know him?"

Your eyes shifted to the open front door. Yoongi noticed and reached over to close it. It clicked with finality. Yoongi locked it with one hand. Once he did, you turned your attention to Jungkook. 

"I told you, I was working though some things." Your tone was neutral. "One of which ending my contract with my former dom." It still hurt to say those words. You breathed out and noticed Yoongi watching you carefully, catching every one of your actions. "We'd been together for a long time, but one of my clauses was that I didn't want to be known to the public." You arched an eyebrow. "And so, we agreed to end our relationship."

"Were you in love with him?" Yoongi asked quietly.

You ticked your head. You began to walk into your home, musing as Yoongi removed his shoes and strode after you, Jungkook hastily following suit. Light steps in your bare feet, white robe trailing behind you. 

"In a way."

You caught Yoongi's gaze. 

"Nowadays, this kind of thing is commercialized, misunderstood. Perverted, if you will," you added with a smirk. You saw a spark of amusement in Yoongi's dark orbs. "People think they're into it, but they lack the conviction. Back then, things were different. Everyone was hiding and when they found someone like them, they were in it, one hundred percent. I met Seokjin online years ago, on a website made for people like us. We explored it together. I loved that we learned it all, together."

You began to ascend the stairs, a gentle curved staircase with a cascading chandelier in the center. It was like a tower of stars, black bars holding the multi-faceted crystalline bulbs. Yoongi paid no attention to it as if he had seen thousands of similar chandeliers before. Jungkook stared at it with wonder, the reflecting light scattering in his brown eyes and all over the walls.

"There was a time where I hated everything," you said quietly. "I took the things people said, the things they did to me, and turned it all inward, blaming myself, cutting my soul to shreds. It was obvious I did not fit in with my peers in many ways and they made it known to ne. I was not like the others, so I was not needed in this world. Everything I did was bad. Everything I enjoyed was awful. They dangled it in front of my face, berating my tastes, turning them into excuses for abusing me for their gratification. I tried to make it all go away."

"And you failed."

You were nearly at the top of the stairs. You stopped with Yoongi's words. He was on your left side, staring at the space under your left ear. Your semicolon tattoo. Jungkook noticed it too, suddenly fixating on it. One look and it was obvious that Jungkook at least knew the meaning of said tattoo, even if you hadn't told him directly when you received it from him. 

"I did fail." 

And for the first time, your voice was on the edge, skirting the blurred line of that long ago memory, hazy in sight, but painfully clear in feeling, because you remembered everything you felt that night, even if you could barely see straight. 

"How do you know?" you asked Yoongi, looking down at him. He was step below you. 

"I was there." His eyes, so dark, reminding you of moonlight and midnights. "In the dorm hall. The sirens were loud. The paramedics carried you away." You didn't remember if anyone saw you, not at all. But they must have. Everyone knew. "You never came back."

"I lived in the girls’ dorms," you breathed. 

"I was in the middle of fucking one."

"Ah."

That night at the hotel bar. 

"You knew it was me."

"I did."

Your hand was on the banister, holding it tight. You looked away, staring into the artificial stars. You didn't want to visit those memories. That time was faded now. The only memories you wanted to keep where the years with Seokjin. You treasured those moments with him, even if some were awkward, tense, strange, because he was there and he made sure you weren't alone. In some ways, Seokjin needed you too, not wanting to be alone in his desires, wanting to be accepted, even if it was only one person, until you were both strong enough to part ways, confident in those sides of yourselves.

"Maybe it's ironic that I became a sub. To forget. But then again," you added with a small smile. "Seokjin always reminded me it wasn't about the past. It was about being myself without apology and expressing myself without fear. My body is my safe place.”

"The world is quiet here."

Yoongi turned to look at Jungkook, as if he forgot the younger man had been there all this time. Jungkook ticked his chin to your covered midriff, referring to your ribcage tattoo.

"A Series of Unfortunate Events, right?"

You smiled. "Yes. One of my favorite book series."

Jungkook smirked. "It's a little ridiculous."

"So is life."

"You had a remarkably positive man as a dom for someone who whipped you so hard," Yoongi observed. 

"He is a very interesting character," you chuckled, taking another step up. "The duality helps enrich his acting."

"Why didn't you stay? Become his wife and hide at home all day," Jungkook questioned. 

You frowned slightly. "That's not me. I'm not a housewife. I like having a job. I like going about life with no one paying much attention to me. It was time for a change, I think. And besides, being Seokjin's sub and his girlfriend are two different things. We weren't that compatible in the latter."

"What is your job?"

You looked up at Jungkook's directness. "I'm an accountant."

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. "This is accountant money?"

Your eyes drifted around the white walls of your home. Instead of art, you had movie posters in large frames and bookshelves of various series crammed together with different bookends. You were standing at the top of the stairs, where your Star Wars posters were, all nine lined up.

"The house was a gift from Seokjin."

Jungkook choked. "What?"

Yoongi gave you a discerning look. "And I'm the one who spends a lot on my hobbies."

You shrugged. "It's an investment. And I was his property, so I had to live somewhere."

Yoongi raised his brows. "Is he coming to collect?"

You shrugged. "He is not a vengeful person. He asked me to look for another dom before our contact ended."

You could hear a pin drop with the sudden silence.

Those words reminded the two of them that they were here for the same reason and this was not a sudden exposé of your life, even if that's what it had become. There was immediate tenseness, electricity in the air between the two men. Yoongi did not look at Jungkook directly, preferring to stare you instead, but you noticed Jungkook’s jaw clenching, eyes rapidly flickering between you and Yoongi.

You took a step back.

And then another, your back against the double doors of the master bedroom.

Your hands slid backwards, both forearms on the small of your back. Head up, unafraid. There was nothing to be afraid of. You were who you were. They were here for something only you could give and you knew that.

A dom can only be a dom if a sub listens to them, after all.

Yoongi was the one who spoke first. You knew he would. Yoongi had more experience. He was a man who knew what he wanted and actively went to get it. He liked getting to the point.

“Pick one.”

“I don’t have to,” you replied coolly. “I told you I didn’t want to be exclusive.”

“Yes, you did,” Jungkook growled. “But you also said you’re mine in my presence.”

“And,” Yoongi interjected, taking a step towards you. “I don’t think you asked to be non-exclusive because you want to fuck around and look for other people.” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing dangerously. “I think you found your people, and they’re standing right here.”

Ping.

If you were a dartboard, Yoongi would have hit the bull’s eye.

When you didn’t respond, Yoongi’s lips curved into a slow smirk. Your fingers closed on the knobs of your bedroom doors. Jungkook advanced on you, tucking his tongue in his cheek.

“That’s awfully greedy of you, isn’t it?”

Your eyes flickered to his penetrating gaze.

“It’s the masochist in me.” You quirked your head to the stairs. “You’re welcome to leave if you’re not interested.”

“Of course, I’m fucking interested,” Jungkook snarled, shoving you into your bedroom doors. You didn’t remove your hands from the knobs. “You can’t offer me a chance and not expect me to take it.”

Yoongi’s long fingers slid between you and Jungkook, curling around your neck. Your eyes shifted to him and his intense stare. He didn’t speak for several seconds, Jungkook breathing in your face, hot air coating your cheeks. He seemed almost bored, but the grip on your neck was tightening. Eyes so dark under that black hair that you almost tripped and fell into the abyss.

“But no one else, got it?” Voice low, raspy, not to be questioned. “Just me and him. Whoever… he is.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you breathed huskily, slightly lightheaded. “My tattoo artist.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, glaring at Jungkook from the corner of his eye. “You? The one who tattooed ‘GOOD LUCK’, hm?”

Jungkook huffed, narrowing his eyes at Yoongi. “That’s me.”

“Jungkook, this is Min Yoongi.”

Jungkook’s face twisted in confusion. “The heir to that hotel chain?”

Yoongi shrugged in response. Jungkook frowned at you. You shrugged despite being mildly choked. “He has a sex dungeon in the penthouse suite. I was intrigued.”

Yoongi chuckled as Jungkook’s eyebrows raised. “That’s a glorified description, but more or less.”

“The tattoo wasn’t Jungkook’s idea though,” you corrected. Both men turned their heads to make eye contact with you. “Seokjin told me to get it. It was an order from my Master.”

Yoongi blinked slowly. “You took it very seriously, didn’t you?”

Your gaze sharpened. “I did. We had a contract. And there’s no guarantee I’ll do it again. What we had was… ours.”

Jungkook’s hands were on the top of your robe. They loosened a little, one of his fingers slipping under the fur and brushing against your skin. “We’re not asking to replace him,” he said softly.

Yoongi’s grip on your neck relaxed, his fingertips caressing the sides of your neck. “Agreed.” His nail traced the curve, sparking the fire within you. Yoongi’s lips curved as his eyes fell on the semicolon tattoo under your left ear.

“Only asking to be the next phrase. Like a comma.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat.

How did he know? He probably didn’t know how perfectly his words fit into your life. It was undoubtedly just a coincidence. But it was enough. You gripped the doorknobs to the master bedroom. Your room. Your bed, about to invite your two new doms into it, two doms who just met each other tonight, thanks to Kim Seokjin. Was Seokjin a prophet or were you just lucky?

You opened the doors and took a step back.

-

“Now that’s a fucking bed,” Jungkook breathed.

King size. Frame made of solid wood, stained ash gray, with a semicircular wooden headboard, finished off with a dark metal border. Fixed circular metal rings framing the headboard, spaced out evenly, heavy and foreboding. Perfect for rope. Black silk sheets, well-made with a thick duvet at the end, velvet with black-on-black stars. There were even metal rings along the edge of the bed, hanging. Waiting.

“I made it.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “You did?”

You placed a hand on the bed. Looked up at him. “Yes. I did. I bolted these rings on. I fixed the wooden slats together, held the power saw to cut the semicircle, and hammered the metal edge on.” You chuckled, pointing to the curve. “That’s why it looks a bit beat up.”

“Not because you’ve been fucking on it?”

You chuckled. “I’ll confess, no one really notices. It’s not what people are looking at when they’re in this bedroom.”

“What are they looking at?” Jungkook asked, small smirk on his lips.

You climbed on the bed slowly. Fingers spread out, a stark contrast against the black, white fur robe dragged across the silk. Yoongi’s and Jungkook’s eyes followed your movement. Flashes of skin in between the fur. You turned, facing them, arching an eyebrow. Playing with the tie, teasing it apart, holding your robe closed as it fell down.

“They’re looking at me, of course.”

You dropped the robe.

Couldn’t hide them anymore. They were already fading a little, but some weren’t. Whip lashes, bite marks, scratches, imprints of lust, all Kim Seokjin, not them. You hadn’t bothered to wear any underwear. No time to pick out anything nice anyway. All your tattoos were on display. The four-sided starburst, symbol of the Sith Order on your inner left forearm. The geometric lotus, on your inner right forearm. The world is quiet here, on the left side of your ribcage. GOOD LUCK, on the space where your right leg and crotch connected, taunting Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook. And the semicolon, just under your left ear, the one that started at it all.

“Your ink work, I assume,” Yoongi muttered.

“All of it, yes,” Jungkook affirmed.

Yoongi took a step forward, slipping his arms out of his blazer, tossing it aside onto the floor. That one blazer probably cost more than Jungkook’s whole outfit, shoes included.

“But you’re new, aren’t you?”

Jungkook didn’t say anything as Yoongi looked back, smirk on his lips, dark curls covering his cat-like eyes. He didn’t need to say anything. Yoongi’s fingers hooked on his black silk tie, releasing the white gold clip, tugging it down a tad.

“You have the same nervousness I had when I was introduced to this.”

-

Yoongi was greedy.

He was not used to sharing. He did not like sharing. But he saw benefits in it. Two dicks were better than one, as some might say. And Yoongi was indeed a busy man, despite reshuffling his schedule for this. He did not want you to get bored and see other people, especially people he didn’t know. It was obvious this Jungkook guy was already devoted to you without question for whatever reason. Yoongi didn’t really care. The only thing he cared about was the fact that Jungkook was obviously going to keep you occupied and he wasn’t going to let anyone else touch you.

Also, this Jungkook guy was cute. A fierce boy with fluffy hair who pretended to be tough to hide his adoration for you.

Yoongi approved.

However, that was not him. Yoongi had nothing to hide. He slunk to you like a large predatory feline. His voracious desire shimmered on the surface, evident in his mere presence, and you clicked with him instantly, following his movement with your gaze, fingers poised on your thighs. The connection of two who already knew their carnal needs, two who had already dipped into sin, two who valued the art in it. You tilted your head, plump pink lips parting. Beauty marks visible due to your lack of makeup.

Yoongi loved how you didn’t try to cover them.

He loved how his fingers curled around your chin, one by one, relishing in each gasp you gave him, your eyes hazing over. Falling, falling. Slipping into that headspace. Giving in to him. Yoongi yanked you by the face, forcing you to crawl on your hands, pulling you close. Blackberries and ocean breeze, musk clinging to your skin. He inhaled, exhaling right onto your lips, making your whimper for a kiss.

“Are you sure you can handle me and Jungkook?” he purred. “You could barely handle me.”

Instead of begging for mercy, you gave him a devious smile.

“Is that what you thought, Yoongi?”

He leaned in, nipping at your lips, earning a breathless moan. “Let’s find out.” Ticked an eyebrow. “Turn around and give me those wrists.”

You turned around, suddenly face-to-face with Jungkook. Yoongi had seen him climbing onto the bed, shedding his black coat in the process. He occupied you on purpose. He tugged down his tie calmly as you folded your forearms behind your back, Jungkook capturing your lips in a rough kiss.

-

Jungkook drank your exhales like they were water.

He didn’t think he would end up sharing you. He didn’t think he would agree, honestly. All this time, suffering without you, wanting you for so long, and he couldn’t keep you all to himself? Jungkook thought for sure he would strangle whoever touched you if he ever found out. But he wasn’t blind. He saw the way Yoongi looked at you and he knew it was the same expression he had. Jungkook was selfish, not stupid. To deny you would make you despise him little by little and he did not want that. He wanted you to moan into his mouth so he could suck it away, wanted your breasts pressed against his chest as Yoongi bound your arms behind your back with his suit tie.

Besides, Jungkook realized he was taking a liking to this Yoongi guy. He was very astute, he got to the point, and he was honest. Yoongi seemed older than him and definitely had more experience, so he was Jungkook’s hyung in that sense at least. He was also aware that Yoongi could have used all kinds of underhanded moves to convince you to toss Jungkook aside, but the older man had done none of those things.

He could have and he didn’t. Jungkook respected that.

Also, Jungkook sort of liked the way he looked. He wasn’t really sure why. He just did.

Maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to match his smirk, his fingers dancing up your arms as Jungkook sucked on your tongue, making you shudder under him. Maybe it was the way he tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you away from Jungkook’s lips, an elegant movement despite your pained whine, tipping your face to his lips as he kissed you, flitting his tongue in and out, teasing you. Your brows furrowed, squirming against your restraints, tits bouncing right in front of him. Your perfume clung to his skin, blackberries and ocean breeze. He could smell it as he watched your face. Jungkook liked watching your face. Your lashes. Your beauty marks that decorated your cute cheeks. Your lips trapped in Yoongi’s mouth.

Jungkook thought he would hate it, but he didn’t. You still looked so pretty, whining as Yoongi’s teeth caught your lower lip, pulling back slowly. It popped out, swollen from the roughness, paired with your wanton moan.

Jungkook felt his cock throb at the action.

Was it you or was it because he was watching it?

He didn’t know.

“Which do you prefer?” Yoongi asked. Almost impassioned. “Mouth or pussy?”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows. He honestly wasn’t sure. He knew what he wanted first. “Mouth?”

Yoongi smirked.

“It’s a trick question. You’ll get both tonight.”

A hot shiver slid down Jungkook’s spine and that was not you and that scared him a little.

-

Watching Jungkook undress was always such a fucking treat.

Even better was Yoongi shoved you against his shirt, scratching down your chest, sending pinpricks of pain all over to match your already sore body. Your eyes were glued to the hem of Jungkook’s long-sleeved white shirt, pulling it up and over his head, revealing his sculpted abs, his muscular chest, his arms, fuck, his arms, the right tattoo sleeve, the geometric lotus on his left forearm.

Yoongi traced the welts and bruises Seokjin left you, pressing into them just a little. You said it so many times before and Yoongi remembered, memorized all the little details. You were a masochist. It certainly wasn’t advisable to keep going when Seokjin had pushed you to the brink just the night before.

“You look pretty, marked up like this.”

But you gave into Yoongi’s smokey murmur, gave into his controlled touch, palms sliding up and rubbing your hard nipples, slow, easy, almost delicate as Jungkook reached over and cupped your face, tipping it up, up, towering, thumbs under your chin, his sharp features hovering over yours, brown eyes burning with black fire.

“I’m angry with you,” Jungkook growled. “Angry that you didn’t tell me sooner.”

He licked your lips, a long, snake-like flicker that made you whine under him.

“Always making me wait. Always making me impatient.”

You cried out as Yoongi pinched your sensitive nipples, making you lurch into Jungkook. He breathed in your exhale possessively, taking it away. Not kissing you. Voice so low it seemed to resonate inside your ribcage.

“If you won’t use this pretty mouth to tell us what you want, then I’ll have to put it to good use, won’t I?”

Jungkook released your face and Yoongi pushed your shoulder blades down, sending lapses of pain stinging through your skin as Jungkook undid his pants, shoving them down his thighs before grabbing you by the hair.

“Open.”

You obeyed without question, moaning as he slid his semi-hard length into your lips, already swelling in contact with your hot vise, tongue flattening against the head to lick off the pre-cum. Jungkook hissed, hips bucking into your face and pushing into your throat. You cried out, eyes shooting up to his, his blown-out pupils and clenched jaw, mole under his lower lip quivering with his smirk.

“What’s the matter? Can’t do it?” Jungkook taunted. “Three taps against your ass then. Hyung tied up your arms, not your fingers. Let’s see it.”

You felt Yoongi’s warmth completely leaving you, backing away. It was true; Yoongi had tied your forearms together, one above the other, and the back of your right hand could barely tap the top of your ass. It was a well-done knot, practiced and clean, unlikely to cut off your circulation.

You didn’t tap out.

You swirled your tongue up and down the bottom of Jungkook’s length instead, eyes narrowing. You didn’t back down from a challenge. His lips curved into a satisfied grin, fingers gripping your scalp tighter.

“Such a good girl, letting me fuck this pretty face.”

He rolled his hips into your face forcefully, and you cried out as the head hit your throat, almost too much, but you also didn’t care. Because almost too much wasn’t too much and that was your comfort zone, that tightrope of pain and pleasure, so fucking good as Jungkook’s thick length throbbed in your mouth, encompassing it all in your saliva, messily dripping down your chin because of his speedy, rough pace, his crotch smacking your lips, using you, praising you, his grating voice telling you how good you were, how beautiful you look swallowing his cock whole, how perfect you looked tied up. You didn’t have your hands supporting you, so your torso was tilted upwards, knees under you. Jungkook had to tip his hips up into your face, holding your head firmly as he rammed himself into your throat.

Suddenly, you felt strong arms around your hips. Long fingers pressing into your ass, drumming to a different rhythm. Your gasp was muffled by Jungkook’s dick as the younger man readjusted, pushing your head down, his free arm wrapping under you and gripping one of your breasts. Your knees were forced back, ass up, and your eyes widened as you felt the hard tip of Yoongi’s cock rubbing against your wetness.

“You keep condoms at such easy access,” Yoongi murmured, kneading your ass as Jungkook slid in and out of your mouth slowly. “Right in your nightstand drawer. So many too. Such an insatiable girl.” You moaned around Jungkook’s cock as Yoongi slowly entered you, only going in halfway. Denying you even longer. You whined desperately, trying to push back and get more, but Yoongi’s grip was immobile. His tone was a teasing drawl as your pussy clenched around him, enticing him to ruin you.

“Guess you need two cocks at once to be satisfied, hm?”

You nearly choked as Yoongi thrust roughly into your sopping wet pussy, jerking you forward onto Jungkook’s cock, the head going so deep that Jungkook moaned as it was harshly squeezed by your throat muscles. Thankfully Jungkook’s hold on your chest was so strong that you didn’t fall. Yoongi was still wearing most of his clothes and you could feel them chafing against your half-healed bruises, but it felt so good, his hard length stretching you out for him, Jungkook fucking your face sloppily, your spit sticking to his balls and his balls slapping your chin. They matched each other’s pace, both filling and emptying you at the same time, so much ecstasy that you didn’t think it was possible to feel so much at once, your pussy clamping around Yoongi’s length and making him hiss, hollowing out your cheeks as Jungkook’s hold on you tightened, panting hard above you. Your nails dug into your palms, knuckles white, the coil inside you tightening, tightening, so close, so close, your whimpers and cries being pumped violently back into your chest by Jungkook’s cock.

“No one else will use you but us,” Jungkook whispered lowly, breath hot against your back, squeezing your nipple in between his fingers.

“And we’ll remind you whenever you want,” Yoongi growled, changing the angle, pounding you more deeply now, causing your eyes to roll into your head.

You felt two different hands grabbing your forearms, clasped around each of your tattoos, sinking their nails into you.

“Cum.”

You didn’t know who snarled it, but it didn’t fucking matter, because the roller coaster shot all the way up and suddenly you were in free fall, the fire instantly consuming you as your came, splattering all over Yoongi’s cock, walls pulsating around his length, the feeling overwhelming as you wailed around Jungkook’s cock, cut off by his salty orgasm flooding your throat, forcing you to swallow or choke, hearing Jungkook’s sharp groan of your name. You gulped it down, whimpering as Yoongi’s cock jerked inside you, shooting into the condom and twitching in your throbbing core. So much sensation that your spasming pussy shuddered, gushing more liquid out. Yoongi shoved his cock into you, purring your name, and you lapped at Jungkook’s cock with a whine, curling your tongue around the head and sucking at the same time.

So good.

Felt so fucking good to left go and just be used.

You felt the knots being undone, arms suddenly free, but you didn’t have the strength to do anything with them, focusing only on squeezing Yoongi’s cock in your pussy and sucking Jungkook until he was hard again. Two sets of hands caressing you gently, dipping you down through the afterglow.

Jungkook pulled out of your mouth, grunting as you tightened your lips, glaring at him. He lifted you up, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you think that’s it?” he asked, dangerous edge to his voice.

You smirked at him, the sides of your lips inflamed with use, saliva dripping down your chin.

“I’m hoping it’s not.”

-

“This is not going to work.”

“I’ve done it before, Jungkook.”

Jungkook bit this lip. You must be insane. Have to be. And yet you wrapped your arms around his head, breathing softly onto his lips, nestling him carefully on your pillows. The bed smelled like you, blackberries and the sea, mixed with the scent of sex. Your hard nipples rubbing against his bare chest, his hands on your waist. His heart was beating so fast, so fast, and if he wasn’t in this impossible position, he could dial it up and be that presence you liked.

But he was really, really fucking scared.

Really scared that you were going to get hurt.

His eyes widened as long pale fingers traced around your chin, one by one, placing themselves on your jaw and pressing into your cheeks. Your teeth caught your lower lip, moaning in his face.

And then Jungkook felt it.

He felt it because his cock was buried all the way inside your pussy.

“A-ah, Yoongi…”

Jungkook wanted to snap, look at me, but he couldn’t, because you suddenly became so tight, so fucking tight that he couldn’t think, sucking in a sharp breath. He felt Yoongi’s bare thighs slide against his, and then that dark head of hair appeared, cat-like eyes staring down at him. Two of his fingers slid into your mouth, rubbing your tongue as he began to move his fingers on both hands, nice, easy, slow, making Jungkook’s eyes flutter at the sensation of your walls closing in on him, all because of Yoongi’s fingers in your ass.

Yoongi chuckled. “Never done this before?”

“F-Fuck no,” Jungkook gritted out, grip on your waist tightening as you gasped, pushing back down on Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi smirked. Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

“What an innocent boy.”

Jungkook almost shot back, but Yoongi shoved another finger in your ass and you jerked on top of him, moaning deeply and clutching his head. Jungkook gasped, feeling the lube drip down and splatter over his balls, and he could hear it, the wet, obscene sucking sounds as Yoongi slowly fucked your ass at a measured pace, pushing you up and down the length of Jungkook’s stiff cock with the force of his thrusts.

Yoongi’s hand pulled out of your mouth, grabbing your hair and pulling back, knocking the clip out of your hair. It bounced on the bed, a black claw clip with pearl accents.

“Relax,” Yoongi ordered sharply. He didn’t raise his voice but there was a sharp edge to it, punctuating it with a particularly hard thrust and making you cry out, nearly pulling at Jungkook’s black locks, but Jungkook didn’t even notice, fascinated by Yoongi’s power over you. “You want my dick, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes, Yoongi…”

Yoongi leaned forward, pressing his lips into your ear. Jungkook’s eyes widened as he felt Yoongi flex his fingers inside you, spreading you out. 

“I guess I should be grateful that this hole seems to have been used last night, considering you’re already taking me so well.”

You whimpered, tits right in front of Jungkook’s face. He took the chance and reached up, pinching and rolling your hard nipples between his fingers as Yoongi ruined you with his words, sliding you up and down Jungkook’s length once more. So good, oh fuck, Jungkook didn’t think it would feel good letting someone else besides you or him control the pace, but Yoongi must have been practiced and you followed his lead, lifting and lowering your hips to his rhythm.

“I was going to be much rougher with you, but maybe next time,” Yoongi purred, licking your neck. “Since you’ve been so generous tonight.”

Yoongi was not a talkative person. He was stalling on purpose, because he could see Jungkook was scared you were going to rip in half or something. It took a lot for Yoongi not to laugh at him, but it would ruin the moment and Yoongi was composing a nice scene. He wasn’t about to ruin it now.

He really wanted to see Jungkook’s face when his dick was finally in you.

Yoongi pushed you down on top of the younger man, listening to Jungkook’s gasp and your pleased snicker as he began to pull his fingers out. He yanked them out of you and you moaned right into Jungkook’s mouth, grabbing his head and kissing him fiercely at the sudden emptiness, frustration and anticipation in your kisses. Yoongi smiled calmly, picking up the towel and wiping off his fingers. He didn’t have to worry. Apparently, you had prepared for this.

Took a shower before answering the door? Check. Kept condoms, lube, and towels at your nightstand? Check. Didn’t wear any underwear to meet two people who were very clearly going to dom the fuck out of you that night? Check.

Clever girl.

Yoongi rolled the condom down his aching cock as he watched you make out with Jungkook’s face, shuddering as his tongue forced itself into your mouth, the younger man’s brow furrowed and his hand gripping your jaw, nails digging into your skin. Yoongi was surprised to find himself enjoying this, observing the vigor of Jungkook’s kisses stealing your breath away and your whimpers into his lips, hands tangled in his black hair.

He enjoyed it, but that didn’t stop Yoongi from positioning himself behind you and shoving his cock into your ass.

“Fuck!”

“Ah, yes, Yoongi!”

Mmm, he could always count on you to take what he gave. Jungkook sputtered and gripped the sheets, gasping for breath and you began to move, up and down, up and down. Yoongi’s eyebrows raised, thoroughly impressed that you had the energy to move at all, let alone start the pace. And, fuck, you were tight as fuck back here, fuck, he thought he stretched you out enough, but even Yoongi paused, clenching his jaw as his entire length was squeezed and pulsed around, your moans filling the room, his balls slipping against Jungkook’s as you moved. Was that all lube?

It wasn’t.

Yoongi inhaled sharply. The consistency of your cum was different from lube and Yoongi tensed his chest, reaching up and curling his fingers in your hair, yanking sharply so you stopped moving.

“Did you cum?”

He couldn’t see you face, but Jungkook could. Jungkook shook his hair out of his eyes and glared at you, searching your face.

“She must have,” Jungkook growled. It seemed like he had finally snapped out of his nervousness. His right hand shot up and clasped around your neck. “What are you looking so smug for?”

It didn’t matter if you had two different hands trying to control the movement of your head.

It didn’t matter if you had two cocks shoved into your two tight holes, dripping and trickling down onto the towel beneath your three bodies.

You turned your head and glanced at Yoongi in your peripheral vision. Yoongi sensed movement and looked down. Jungkook did the same, mouth going dry. Your left arm at the small of your back, four-sided starburst with the filled in circle facing Yoongi. Nice tattoo. Your right arm in front of your stomach, inner forearm facing Jungkook, the geometric lotus. Draw something for me.

You cocked an eyebrow.

“Punish me, then.”

Yoongi lips curved into an open-mouthed smirk.

“Jungkook, move.”

Jungkook smacked his hips up into you and you gasped, but Yoongi didn’t wait, matching his rhythm instantly, in when Jungkook slid out, out when Jungkook slid in, so fucking tight and wet, your arms dropping, palms splayed out on Jungkook’s chest.

“A-ah, Yoongi, Jungkook, p-please…” you panted, unable to move your head with Yoongi’s hand in your hair and Jungkook’s grip on your throat. “Please, oh fuck, fuck…”

“Please what?” Yoongi exhaled, trying not to lose his fucking mind because, fuck, the feeling of Jungkook’s cock filling you up and then sinking back in to that impossible tightness, so good, so fucking sexy watching his cock disappear into that plump ass, his now, didn’t matter if he had to share because, fuck, sure, he’d fucking share with this hot, tattooed young man furiously slapping his hips into your pussy, probably unknowingly rubbing their balls together, but Yoongi liked this.

No.

He fucking loved this.

You were gasping out your words and Yoongi was too busy pumping his cock into your ass to hear it the first time.

“Say it again,” he growled.

“H-harder…”

Jungkook couldn’t believe his ears. Harder? He couldn’t even think to be honest, squeezed so hard by your pussy and feeling Yoongi’s cock moving inside you, the older man’s balls slipping all over his and there was absolutely no way that Jungkook thought he would like this before tonight, but he did, fuck, he loved it and he tightened his grip on your throat, only to make you lightheaded, careful not to cut off your trachea.

“Take it,” Jungkook snarled, increasing the pace, putting more force behind it, and he watched your eyes roll back, your breathless moans filling the room, fuck you looked so good, so fucking good being stuffed with two cocks and your mouth open, lips puffy and used by him fucking your face earlier. And everything was so tight, so wet, so messy, your pussy smelling so, so fucking good, spasming around him every time you came, so much so that it was almost constant, your juices slipping down and covering his balls to smear onto Yoongi’s. The ‘GOOD LUCK’ tattoo flashed every time he retreated and, fuck, even the sound of Yoongi grunting behind you as he fucked your ass was sexy and Jungkook was nearing the end, he was on the edge, but he refused to cum, not until he heard what he wanted to hear from your pretty, pretty lips.

He released his grip on your neck suddenly and you sputtered and panted, blinking hard, still shuddering, racked by the strain of taking so much at once. Jungkook growled your name, gently knocking your chin with the back of his hand and forcing you to look at him.

“Who owns you?”

God, he loved those eyes. Those perfect, perfect eyes, submissive and burning with fire.

Yoongi purred your name, yanking your head back by your hair, earning a pained whine.

“Who owns you?” Yoongi echoed in his deep, raspy drawl.

The smacking of hips to wet flesh, lewd and obscene, resonating throughout your bedroom.

So much cock.

Fuck, it felt so fucking good.

There was no one to replace Kim Seokjin, your former Master.

But he didn’t have two dicks either, so in that department, Jeon Jungkook and Min Yoongi had him beat.

You gave Jungkook a devious smirk.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

He slapped his hips into yours, groaning lustfully as he heard his name from your lips, and it all spilled out because he couldn’t control it anymore, yes, all I wanted, your hoarse declaration of his name and your muscles tightening all around him, forcing his orgasm out in thick spurts, swelling inside the condom.

“Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi hissed, smacking his cock into your ass and released your hair, arm shooting around your chest to hold you possessively, pressing your back into his torso, moaning as he came inside your impossibly tight hole, all of it milked dry and expanding the condom, so good, so fucking good, because it was you, his obsession, you in his arms and he was not going back to his pattern, fuck no, never again.

Neither of them noticed they had closed their eyes.

Jungkook opened his eyes to find Yoongi staring at him with a half-lidded, cat-like gaze. He stared back, confused at how he felt this sudden connection, as if he had found someone just like him. Min Yoongi was nothing like him. He was rich, calm, sharp. Jungkook was only a tattoo artist.

Who didn’t realize he was a dom until he met you.

Yoongi smirked.

Jungkook cocked an eyebrow, smirking back.

Ah, maybe that was it.

-

his moment, question mark ?

--

masterpost

[vminity21]

Promise Me | pjm

Pairing: Actor!Jimin X Actress!Reader, ot7 featured, friendshiptolovers!au

Word Count: 17, 280

Genre: fluff/soft/angst/smut

Warning(s): mega-angst, family rivalry, eventual smut, losing virginity, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, nipple play, mild language use Rated: 18+

Summary: You and Park Jimin, two best friends who grow up together, pursue each of your careers in acting. Even after a horrible misunderstanding which then leads to losing contact, the two of you never give up on your dreams. Nor, do you give up on each other. 

Credit to: @suhdays​ for making such an awesome cover!

He relies on his elbow while he slides to lay on his side, beat up converse crossing at the ankles while the loose scrape of his jacket sounds when greeted by the hardwood floor; his cheek brushes your shin once he makes himself comfortable. Your arms are folded across the tops of your knees where you rest your chin, staring at him fondly as you wait for his cue to speak, "You know you can trust me," he flashes a full smile- eyes disappearing into crescents causing your heart to melt at his overwhelming beauty.

"I know, I just... It's not you, it's me," you say, the cliché line sounding believable coming from your lips. Looking towards his clasped hands in response, he nods,

"It's not you, it's me... I've said that plenty of times in my life,"

"So, you understand me," you muse with the raise of your eyebrows hoping your stare exuberates your flirty side. When he returns to peer up at you, his thick lips poise with a slight twitch as if he's conjuring up a reply,

"Come here," he tilts his head up while you maneuver yourself to reach him- lips lock in the most passionate mold, and when he moves to where he can easily pull you closer, his kiss almost makes you forget where you are. Your hand trails to tangle with his blonde strands, getting lost in the movement he makes while he leans back, pulling you with him as previously practiced-

CRASH!

Jumping at the ear-piercing sound of shattering glass, wide eyes stare at the culprit of your piggy bank that fell from the pedestal he happened to lean against for support. Gulping, coins and dollar bills sparsely decorate the floor with the jagged pieces, but none of that is the reason why your heart is pounding with intense fear. There, lying in the jumbled mess of a pile is a couple of ID cards to cover your real identity.

He stands to his feet slowly, taking careful steps toward the muddle.

"I- I can-" You begin, trying to gather an explanation- watching him shuffle up the cards when a façade of shock covers his expression.

"What- what are these?" Anger darkens his eyes with the subtle rise of his voice.

"I can- I can explain-" tears brim the moment he halts your words by holding out his hand.

"No. Don't. I think I've seen enough," he tosses the cards onto your bed before stomping toward the door. Jolting to your feet, you mirror panic,

"No, Sam, please! Wait, please!"

Chasing after him, he spins around, "We're done, Kylee," he removes your hand that happened to reach his shoulder, "Or is that even your real name?"

"CUT!" The director, Steve Aoki, calls and with accomplished smiles, you and Jimin turn to face the cast and crew, "Wonderful, wonderful! Absolutely astounding!" Steve applauds, congratulating the pair of you while the two of you step away from the set. "I know this movie will make it to the big screen if the two of you continue performing like that!"

"Thank you, Steve," Jimin slightly bows forward with a sweet grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. He slips his arm around your waist with pride, "What can I say? I have a great co-star!"

"Ah, the chemistry!" Steve exclaims.

"Well, thank you to the both of you," you gleam with flattery, leaning into Jimin's side with the tint of a blush heating your cheeks, "I'm having a great time."

"We'll film more scenes with the two of you tomorrow. Right now, we need to film action scenes with the stunt doubles," Steve quickly kisses the side of your forehead before walking off, "Take five, everyone!" He shouts, clapping his hands to disperse the workers into a break.

"I must say, I'm really enjoying this movie with you, Chim," you compliment as he leads you to the refreshment table. Bottles of water sit in perfect rows in front of the snacks- cheese cubes and crackers tempting to relieve your growling stomach.

"I can say the same to you, [Y/Nickname]," Jimin reaches for two waters and hands one to you in which you take a few sips once you screw off the lid. As crazy as it sounds, Jimin has been your best friend for as long as you can remember.

Born to wealthy parents, a couple years after you came your sister. From the day you learned how to speak and understand the world around you, a dream was created that revolved around the career of acting. That's all you've ever wanted to do, and in elementary school, where you got to experience your first taste of this dream, you landed a role as Mrs. Scrooge in the Christmas play. Since none of the young boys tried out for the part, they changed the character to a woman the moment they discovered your talent. After your performance, you received numerous compliments that you were beyond grateful for, and since then you knew, acting was your definite calling. Sure, you had only been in fifth grade, but you loved being on the stage. It gave you a new perspective of every character you played- a new way of seeing life played out before you behind someone else's eyes. The stage – you were in your comfort zone. There, you felt home.

You had spoken to your parents about your dream to find that they were thrilled about your hope in acting. Your mom had warned you though that you needed to be patient; landing a show or movie role could be an incredibly hard task. Promising to be patient, like any kid would have, you kept your eyes peeled for any announcement of an audition. First, you started small- your mom had found auditions for commercials, and that was when you officially began the acting business. Three commercials down, and then you attempted in auditioning for TV shows which you hadn't had much success, and you wore the face of a broken-hearted girl. You figured you would never be good enough for the big screen with how everything was panning out, yet one day, auditions were being held in your city for a romantic comedy that was going to be filmed in the same spot also. A young girl was needed that would resemble the main actress in order to accomplish flashback scenes. Of course, you begged your mother to take you once you received the news.

Sitting in the waiting area the day of, your mother had driven you and your sister all the way to the location, and it felt like days when in all reality it had been three hours before your turn was called. The audition line was packed, and your sister had been growing anxious, wanting food or water, anything that would keep her entertained. Your mom comforted her by handing her a notebook and a pen from her purse, "Here baby, draw on this, okay?"

You remembered seeing a girl similar in age to you exit into the lobby with a confident smile. Your heart rammed within your chest as your sweaty palms rubbed against your jeans. Each child had been handed a script to study in the time leading up to this moment you were anxious to begin. C'mon... You can do this. Your eyes shot up in the direction of where a door opened, "Next!" A lady with long, dark hair smiled at you kindly when she caught your timid eyes, and out of habit, something you even did at doctor visits, you turned to your mother as if to ask for permission to follow what seemed to be a genuine woman.

"Go on," your mom said softly, "I believe in you."

Comfort eased your countenance and you left with a smile in determination of needing to nail this audition. If your parents, believed in you, then you knew that you could do it. The squeak of the chair sounded the moment you rose to your feet soon finding yourself inside the audition room where the only thing you could hear was the light thudding of your heartbeat. A red cloth adorned the table before you, where four judges remained seated. One male with gray hair chewed on the back of his pencil before looking up at you behind thick-rimmed glasses.

"How are you today, Miss-" He looked over at a clipboard lying in front of the woman who led you to the audition room, "[Y/N]?"

"I'm good, how are you, sir?" You put on your best smile with pure genuine though your hands quivered at your sides.

"Good," he sounded cheery for that second, "Okay, Mrs. Yeun is going to read the lines which will be spoken by the character, Will." He gestured briefly to the left in introduction of a lady holding a clipboard, "And after she finishes her lines, that's when you'll obviously speak. Start your first line when you're ready,"

Looking back, you're sure he must have repeated himself a million times that day with each audition, yet you still felt as though you were the only soul surrounded by strangers though many mirrored the same feeling. Inhaling deeply, you closed your eyes while your fingers curled into your palms- releasing the moment you exhaled- gradually opening your eyes once you imagined yourself as the character you were supposed to be.

"Will!" You exclaimed whilst envisioning the highlighted lines you studied thoroughly- waving your arms frantically in the air as if to gain the fiction boy's attention, "Will! I- I found it! I found the treasure!"

"You did?" Though the voice of a woman read the part, you still pretended to see a messy haired boy with a galaxy of life behind his almond eyes while he rushed to see what you claimed you had found, "By golly, you did!"

The man then wanted you to read more of a serious scene between your character, Rose, and Will. Trying to think of sad things to keep your expression gloomy, forced tears welled within your eyes just enough to make your character compelling which resulted in applauding judges bidding a slew of congratulations after jotting down a few notes.

"We'll reach out if you make callbacks," the man nodded once and that's all it took before you ran out of the room with a smile from ear to ear. It took only a few days before you received a call back in which you were able to audition a second time but in front of the actual director of the film. You returned to Rose, the character you had grown to love already. This time, it took weeks before you had a callback, ending in nights of nervous tears that maybe your dreams wouldn't come true after all- your parents reassured you despite the inner angst of wondering the same as you, and told you not to give up no matter what the circumstances.

It was the call that changed your life forever. Dancing in the kitchen alongside your mother who was stirring the batter for some cupcakes, you remember as though it was only yesterday, small fingers gripping the device before greeting the person on the other end.

"Is this [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N]?"

Your mom mouthed 'who is it?' when she caught the way your lips had parted in confusion at the male voice you couldn't recognize on the spot, but you answered, "Yes, sir," anyway. It was the screaming in excitement that nearly knocked the bowl out of your mother's hands when you heard the man confirm the hope you've so desperately held onto,

"Well, [Y/N]! I am thrilled to say that you made the part of Rose!"

Arrangements were then made- the company in charge of the movie rented a home for your family to stay in while the movie was being filmed, and considering the duration of how long a movie can be to make, your mother began to homeschool you to keep you from falling behind. On your first day of work, the cast members had gotten together to review the script. Your mother was hesitant to drop you off at first without her being by your side, but with the assurance from the director of your safety, she reluctantly agreed to let you go. Teary-eyed from the anxious feeling pounding in your chest, you walked into the room where a table full of adults greeted you along with two teenagers scrunched next to three empty seats. Not one soul seemed close to your age just yet, but you were politely introduced to your fellow castmates which relieved you enough to promise yourself everything would be okay.

"Hi, you must be Ye-jin!" The voice of a young boy rattled behind you causing you to gasp softly before whirling around to face your intruder. Dark hair swooped across his forehead where almond eyes presented eager, brown irises that beamed with kindness; his wrinkled light blue t-shirt was loose on his tiny frame as well as his jeans, and he was not much taller than you from what you observed.

"Oh no, sweetie!" The surrounding table erupted in frilly laughter, "I'm Son Ye-jin!" The most lovely woman you had ever seen gushed at his widening smile.

"Oh! Well, I'm Jimin! Park Jimin!"

"Well, the two of you take a seat. The director will be here any minute," a handsome man nestled beside Ye-jin gestured toward the empty seats you and Jimin waltzed to occupy. A few minutes of chatter filled the room while your eyes scanned the scene before as any child would do when uncertain of what would be happening next, but that's when a poke on your shoulder disrupted your stares,

"What's your name?" Jimin asked the second your eyes timorously moved to meet his.

"[Y/F/N]. [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N]," You replied, "And you're Jimin,"

"Yes! I play Will! You must play Rose,"

"I do!"

The director and producers filed into the room before any more conversation could be continued, and for the next hour, the plot of the movie was further explained, though now, being an adult, looking back, you understand the synopsis much more than when you were ten years old first hearing it. The main characters discovered a treasure when they were children, unraveling secrets that could be worth a fortune. When the couple became adults, though had lost touch throughout the years, they never forgot about the treasure and the two individually set out to find it yet again. Unexpectedly, they bumped into each other and a love/hate relationship ensued until they found what they were looking for.

You and Jimin started filming different scenes together over the next five months after the script had been explained and reviewed. The pair of you became inseparable, growing closer with each scene finished. There was never a day that went by where you hadn't begged your parents to let him come over just for the two of you to practice your lines for whatever scheduled time for filming was planned next. Your father would bring home ice cream whenever he got off work to surprise you, your sister as well as your newfound friend, and you will never forget Jimin's melted chocolate smile or the way the ice cream would drip from his chin onto whichever shirt he'd claim was his favorite. Throwing a fit of giggles, he would chase you around the yard until he'd catch you- tickling your tummy until you took your outburst back. He also loved drawing with your sister, something he wasn't very good at, but he liked giving her company to prevent her from ever feeling left out.

Whenever the cast and crew had days off, Jimin would return to his hometown and you never could shake the loneliness you endured without him around. Though your sister enjoyed drawing or watching a movie, you more so preferred being outdoors, or practicing your lines which had been a daily chore since you became a part of this movie project, and of course, when Jimin would return, the pair of you would be driven to set to get back to work.

One particular scene, one you will never let be forgotten in your heart, is a moment where Will and Rose made an oath to be best friends forever. You and Jimin were directed to a swing set where the two of you took your seats, slightly swaying forward while the cameramen stood where assigned. Powder was dusted upon you and Jimin's faces to finalize everything before the yell of, "Action!" was voiced.

"You know, Rose?" Jimin became Will almost instantly, a talent not many ten-year-old children can perfect, but from what you remember, he had and has continued to blow minds away even from the beginning of his career. His expression was serious while his gaze remained on you as practiced. "I need you to promise me something,"

Looking at your black slippers, you noticed the swings were edging simultaneously, but you kept your focus solely on the words you were about to speak, "What is it, Will?" You tried to pull off your best curious face.

"I mean promise, even if you get tired of playing checkers with me,"

"Yes," you urged.

"And, if you get tired of playing tag even though you're always 'it,'"

"Yes," you dragged the word length in attempt to feign impatience.

"I mean you have to really promise me,"

"Okay, Will! I really, really promise," the wind calmed just enough to where your hair stopped tickling the sides of your face. Jimin hopped off the swing while his footsteps paused to face you completely. Even though you both were in acting mode, there was something serious behind his umber eyes that only you could see. One of the cameramen moved to film the side angles of you and Jimin's faces in order to capture the scene the way it had been imagined. Sometimes, with the camera being so close, it was hard to ignore, but at that moment, you were too absorbed with your character and Jimin's eyes to even glimpse in the camera's direction.

"Promise me that no matter what, we'll be best friends forever," the blurred sight of Jimin's pinky finger carefully raised in your line of vision, and for dramatic effect, you were told to count to three before your cue to say your line,

"I promise," you curled your pinky and locked it with Jimin's while a shy smile became present upon your lips, "Best friends forever."

"CUT! That's a wrap!" The director had said, but you vaguely remember that. All you had on your mind was the moment you and Jimin had shared. Though your lines had been written from a script, the two of you meant every word. That's why the scene had seemed so believable because there was truth in it.

Jimin was your best friend since that very day, and you pursued your dreams and have landed roles in plenty of hit movies since moving back to your hometown seven years ago. You're now a pretty well-known actress, but others find you humble in the fact that you never seem to show it off nor let the fame get to your head. Being seen in public has become one of caution, yet you adore every fan that comes your way asking for an autograph or a picture just so the memory of meeting you can be burned into their hearts forever.

Your dad, after your first movie, was transferred to officially work at a better job that happened to be in the same city that Jimin and his family lived in, which prompted your family to move being your mom as well as his became very good friends. You attended school with him at this point which he guided you due to you had been growing used to homeschool since your first movie. It was safe at the time to roam the halls of school- you and Jimin never became really famous, but your popularity gained with the pupils once joined the drama club resulting in auditioning for every musical or play the school had to offer. So, did your partner in crime, Park Jimin.

"You're doing it again," you snap back to the present with a sharp shaking of your head to dissolve the thoughts now scattering into your subconscious. Eyes clearing, you realize you've been zoned out for quite some time considering the subtle crease of worry tinged within Jimin's gaze.

"Sorry, Chim. I'm kinda-"

"Dazed," he finishes your sentence- his pink lips pressing into a tease of a smile.

"You know me so well,"

"I do," he winks taking a sip of his water bottle- swishing it around before swallowing, "Want to go out tonight? My schedule's clear for once,"

With busy lives of movies, sponsorships, premiers, cocktail parties, and anything revolving around this world of being on the go, it's hard to truly find the time to spend together which is something you've forced yourself to accept. But, miraculously, tilting your head, you comb back through your memory to realize you are, indeed, free this evening, "I would really like that, Chim. Thanks," you smile, excited to spend time by his side without cameras rolling in both your faces.

"No problem," he slips his hand in yours, carefully scanning behind you to confirm that not one person is watching. His warm fingers intertwine with yours while he leans closer, plush lips nearly tickling your temple, "Besides, I miss spending time with you," he whispers, you repressing the obvious tingles spreading across your skin- you turn in the direction of where the exit is visible, him following suit though hands remain locked.

"You're spending time with me now," you tease.

"You know what I mean," he rolls his eyes, yet his smile remains so wide, you feel the elevation of your heart flying. You love his smile, everything about him makes your head spin into a dizzy world of happiness. He's one of the biggest heartthrobs in the world; girls go crazy with his presence being in the same room as them; and, with many knowing him and his six best friends like the Bible, they don't really know Jimin like you do. It's the same for you, too. You love your fans more than life; you love reaching out to them on social media- signing at cons- meeting them in public when recognized and hearing the endless compliments on how wonderful you did in whatever movie has been released where you're the star of the plot. But as many times as he's said it, Jimin will always be your number one fan.

The fan who knows you.

Starring alongside him in the recent movie the pair of you have been working on was intimidating at first. You're not sure on how the press will react, or fans, or... the world. Jimin landed the role of Sam and nearly begged you to try out for Kylee who would in due course be the love interest for Jimin's character.

"Please! I'm begging you! You'll love it! It has action in it!" He nodded quickly while a ginormous smile with the shimmering pearl of his teeth nearly blinded you- his hands clasped together beneath his chin before he popped up and down in desperation, "Steve Aoki is the director and when I mentioned you to play the female lead, he freaked! He agreed that you should do it! C'mon [Y/N], please! You'd be brilliant!"

"Is this another excuse for you to kiss me again-"

"So, what if it is," Jimin's hands unlatched, "Are you complaining?"

Though it was merely a tease, your chest heated with a deep shade of red- your head shaking incredulously as you placed your palms upon your hips. You dragged on about another minute with skeptical eyes before lifting your hands in defeat, "Okay, I'll do it,"

"YES! Yes! Yes! Yes!" Jimin grasped you in his arms while he spun you around- laughter being the only sound filling the space of his apartment. When you auditioned, you landed the role on the spot which led to Jimin whisking you into the air out of a manner of rejoicing. Your family cheered you on as well, proud of all your successes in the career you've accomplished. After skimming through the script for Kylee, you called one of your good friends, Maeve, thrilled about your new job. Maeve had played your best friend in a movie about five years prior, when you were nineteen, resulting in the two of you becoming real friends instantly.

"You already know I'm going to be front row when it's finally released," she said. The plot is about a young girl, Kylee, whose parents are spies and so is she. But a fatal accident happens that causes her family to go into hiding, and one boy's father had to pay the price. Jimin's character, Sam, is the son and had seen the face of Kylee's father and figured out the last name he had used when his mission had turned into a mistake. But Sam doesn't realize who Kylee is until he sees the ID cards in her bedroom- which is the scene you and Jimin had officially filmed nearly twenty minutes ago.

The conversation with Maeve then turned into how things had been going for her- how her boyfriend wouldn't take the hint that she wanted him to propose to her, "I don't understand why he's so blind! Like, do you love me or do you not? It isn't that hard,"

"Ah, boys," you snickered, "Shame, shame, shame,"

"Speaking of shame. Don't you have to kiss your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend, Mae. It's just for the movie," your words came off nonchalant despite the nervous tension that traveled throughout your body, and there were some things you haven't found the courage to admit to Maeve just yet. Besides, it wouldn't have been the first time you and Jimin kissed.

Daydream grinning along with the squint of your hazy eyes becomes apparent while the memory leaves you.

"What?" Jimin chuckles, turning to face you fully once the exit stands between your frames and the outside world. Your heart skips a beat from the way his beautiful smile stares down at you, and deep down, you wish you can tell him that, but the pair of you have been friends for so long, you're uncertain if making these feelings known is a good idea. Despite everything the pair of you have been through, you can't help but wonder if a relationship will bring you closer, or just tear your hearts completely apart. And, even now, years later, you're not sure if you can handle losing Jimin again.

"Nothing," you reply tenderly, eyes checking to examine his worn-out converse he has had since high school, "Just admiring your... fancy footwear,"

"Hah!" He laughs once, laying his head back, "I already told you, I'm going shopping today. Besides, I need a new outfit tonight, so wear something pretty," he pulls you in for a friendly hug, rubbing his free hand slightly on your back, each of you still holding your water bottles, yet you maneuver enough to nuzzle your nose into his chest.

"Since when do you care about what I wear?" Your chin moves to plop upon his chest while your eyes peer up at him with the arch of an eyebrow, pulling your lips into a goofy, tight grin.

"I don't," Jimin chortles, "But I know you do," it's the way he brings the tip of his fingers to your forehead tickling your skin to move a strand of hair so he can see your eyes clearly, "You look pretty in anything,"

If your heart isn't already combusting enough, it takes everything in you not to kiss him right then and there, and with a small huff in frustration, you pull your arms from his frame to then rest by your sides. "Alright then... pajamas it is,"

"See you later, [Y/Nickname]," Jimin tries to say between laughs, leaning forward to press a small kiss to your cheek. The old nickname makes you giggle as you watch him step beyond the exit. Memories from high school present themselves almost immediately gracing the strange feeling of being sixteen again in your Junior year and auditioning for the spring musical where you and Jimin had landed the lead roles. Jung Hoseok, a mutual friend the pair of you gained, congratulated you both with a huge smile many knew him for. You played a fairy who happened to be in love with a human prince and of course, you and Jimin not only had to sing but had to dance, too, which led to Hoseok practicing dance moves with you two in effort to help.

Overjoyed was an understatement though dancing had always been something to hold you back. Jimin is a phenomenal dancer- raw talent to the point he makes it look easy with the way he poises his body so effortlessly upon the stage- swinging his limbs to the beat of the music, emotion etched on every inch of his face. You remember the endless pressure that seeped into your skin building anxious fingers that clasped tightly together when you were listening to the script Mrs. Lee had written.

Saying quick goodbyes to your castmates, the reminiscent disappears for a fractioned moment while you gather your items before sprinting to the limo where your driver, Stan, awaits you. Shouts of hundreds of fans boom instantaneously at the appearance of you leaving the set. Security surrounds the area in case of any danger, and though you reach to open the door, you turn to wave with the best Red Carpet smile you can muster- blowing a kiss to add to your appreciation.

The limo holds a haven you've grown to adore since your fame took off. Shutting the door, you slide to rest your head against the tinted window, politely greeting Stan before your eyelids flutter for the crave of sleep.

Jimin came over countless times just to practice dance steps; every now and then, Hoseok joining, despite the chagrin that haunted the crippling blushes dawning your cheeks. For the last musical number, the Grand finale, Jimin had to lift you in the air by the waist with you posing your limbs exactly how Mrs. Lee demanded leading Jimin to spin you around during the growing intensity of the belting harmonies before returning you to your feet. It hadn't been easy- something you'd grown to learn especially with the helpless moments of him firmly gripping your waist right when you'd jump sending the two of you tumbling onto the ground in bouts of breathless laughter. After weeks of attempting this one lift you couldn't seem to perfect, your parents happened to be out of town one evening for taking your sister to an art gallery about an hour's drive away. Your mother had been a tad iffy with leaving you and Jimin alone, but you assured her that it would be fine- just because he's a male didn't mean that she couldn't trust the pair of you to behave being you two had simply been friends for years, and nothing more.

Once your family left, Jimin arrived, setting the music in preparation for the mini rehearsal you'd been dreading for the thousandth time.

"Okay," you exhaled, carefully placing your hands upon his shoulders, "Now, lift me," Jimin obeyed, hoisting you as high as he could with a swift grunt escaping his pressed lips. His fingers dug into your sides unintentionally, and before you realized you'd closed your eyes, excitement showed in the widening of your smile- he was holding you up! Finally, longer than ten seconds you remained there,

"I. Got. You," Jimin said between clenched teeth, until suddenly, his arms shuddered beneath you ensuing the shape of an "oh" that formed on your mouth.

"GAH!"

Jimin fell backward onto the couch- your side bouncing off the cushion for your gluteal muscles to meet the wooden floor. Stunned, you'd never seen Jimin's eyes so enlarged, but before you could gather your bearings, you blew at loose hairs that were static over your eyes,

"Ouch."

"HAH!" Jimin let out a high-pitched, one-syllable laugh, already covering his mouth with both of his hands to stifle the chuckling, but it was no use. Clapping a few times, he buried his shoulder into the couch while a breathy snicker escaped your side smile. Tears flooded your eyes from the hysteria of the moment- springing to your feet to then fixing your wrinkled shirt.

"Okay, okay," you breathed, trying to resume composure just enough to stop giggling at yourself, "Let's do this one more time! Chop chop!" Hitting your hands together like how Mrs. Lee tended to do to receive her pupils' attention, Jimin pranced to plant his feet in front of you, repositioning his hands on your waist, "Wait," you paused, concern abruptly covering his eyes while he waited for you to speak, swallowing, you began, "Chim Chim, I need you to promise me something," Lips in a firm line, you held his gaze. It was hard to be serious at times with your best friend, but for right now, you rejected from breaking.

"Anything," he nodded once, searching your stare, lips parted, and realizing how close he was sparked a strange desire that you never wanted to reveal before.

"But you have to really, really promise me,"

When a knowing smirk twitched on his lips, his eyes now held the memory that you were trying to remind him of, "Okay,"

"Even," you continued, "If I love beef bulgogi a little more than I probably should. And-" you paused for effect.

"Go on,"

"Even if you laugh like a maniac and I can't take it," teasing had always been something you both loved to do, and bowing his head with more laughter, he returned even closer than before- his warm breath brushing your cheek.

"Alright, alright! I promise! I really, really promise,"

Eyes still locked, you slowly raised your pinky finger up to him, investigating his expression letting nothing but the sound of the starting air condition fill the space,

"Don't. Drop. Me,"

A soft chuckle enhanced his smile causing a pitter patter beneath your chest, while you joined him. He brought the back of his hand to his mouth- something that he does when he's really tickled, and the sight of it made your heart swell in ways you hardly understood. How could someone have such a strong effect on you?

"First off, I prefer Kimchi stew,"

"Oh, you. Ham!"

Shaking his head in amusement, Jimin reached for your hand, hooking his petite pinky finger around yours to conceal the promise you had forced him to make, "I promise I won't drop you this time," he twirled you once like a gentleman, placing his hands back on your waist once you faced him.

"1, 2, 3!" Jimin, with all his might, boosted you into the air, immediately spinning you around. Now think ballet, you reminded yourself, holding your arms with elegancy. After four twirls, Jimin effortlessly set you down and overwhelmed with pure exhilaration, you couldn't refrain from rejoicing, "We- we did it! Jimin, we did it!"

Right then, you kissed him. Cupped his cheeks into your palms and pecked his lips. You hadn't been thinking entirely straight, but it all happened so fast that it took a second for you to comprehend. Hushed. Silence engrossed the room to the point that your heart throbbed in your temples mingled with the growing heat on your reddened skin- perspiration clammed your palms, yet the only thing frightening your state was the attempt on not panicking though you knew deep within your soul that you'd never regret it. Gulping, your eyes fell to the slow fall and rise of Jimin's chest- his gray shirt showing the iridescent silver pendant you gifted him for his past birthday staring right back at you.

You just kissed your best friend.

Jimin stood there, questions swarming full circle within your mind; feeling distraught, your lips pressed together to prevent the tears burning your nose. You remember figuring that he was angry with you, hence why he couldn't invoke any words to speak. But, unexpectedly, gentle fingertips lifted your chin, your eyebrows furrowed in surprise, but that's when your eyes met as if meeting for the first time, the innocence of the moment not once lost while you anticipated the sight of his nervous expression lowering to yours. You held your breath, eyes closing, every inch of the world disappearing. It was just you and him as it'd always been.

He kissed you. He kissed you right back.

With shivering arms, you wrapped them tightly behind his neck while he moved to encase you closer to him, bodies pressed into a blanket of warmth, you never wanted to uncover from. Feelings you had denied time and time again were showing in that kiss with Jimin- a surreal image you never dreamed you would experience, yet here he was, wrapped in your arms- lips moving to relock with yours so lovingly that your mind was rotating. Nothing could compare to the soaring of your heart, especially sharing something so passionate with someone you had grown to love so much, and this new feeling, one you'd never quite endured ignited a curiosity you couldn't withhold any longer.

The kiss grew aggressive, breaths increasing while dazed eyes remained shut, and though track of time had been misplaced, you no longer cared. Hands pressed against Jimin's chest, he gradually stepped backward until the back of his calves greeted the sofa- breaking the kiss, he swallowed anxiously, eyes never leaving yours- collapsing onto the couch before you propped either leg beside him in a perfect straddle. Snatching his kiss rapidly, your palms held his face while he finicked with where to place his eager hands, gliding up your back in awe of how beautiful you were to him.

You left him completely and utterly breathless, and you wanted this moment to last forever.

Everything had been going perfectly until your parents walked in-

SLAM!

The loud sound of the car door jolts you awake as you blink through the mild darkness. Previous memories fade for now, swiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand before thanking Stan for the ride. The white mansion stands tall beyond the gate where you punch in a code to then proceed onto the property. It appears your mother is not home momentarily, where as your sister and father are visiting an art show in another town, giving you time to prepare for whatever Jimin has in store for you later this evening.

There's a feeling of relief when kicking off your shoes, parading up the spiral staircase toward your closet that waits for your attention. Sifting through the rack of dresses, you close your eyes to randomly select from a hanger in a mechanism to prevent you from being in disappointment; yet, you find your shoulders dramatically dropping when you peek to see what is now hanging from your hand. You're uncertain of why you feel the need to judge every article of clothing you own, and you figure it has to do with impressing a guy, but you are aware that Jimin will accept you for who you are no matter what, so why are you so worried?

You love him- you wince, because that's something you are still struggling with confessing even though it has been blatantly clear since you were sixteen years old that you are wholeheartedly and irrevocably in love with Park Jimin. And, that never changed even years after losing him.

You remember that night like it was yesterday, the very first time you and Jimin kissed. Caught in the moment of what the pair of you secretly dreamed of with no recollection of how much time had passed. No bad intentions were going to be followed through, honestly no other thought from kissing him was even considered for you; all you cared about was how you never wanted him to leave.

But, your mother, unfortunately, assumed the worst.

There wasn't even a chance for you to stop what had already begun, it was too late- your parents walked right into the sight of you lip locked with your best friend, prompting you to immediately jump off him. The gesture was so quick that a slight headache thudded, and all that was flooding your widened gaze was your mother's horrified expression. She happened to be the first to enter the door while your father and sister lagged, luckily missing the already humiliating scene that nobody would ever want their parents to see. With gritted teeth, your mother's icy glower said enough, but she still voiced for Jimin to leave. Him flashing you an apologetic look while he stumbled to gather his things. Your father had no idea of what was happening until he heard your mother shouting at you for over an hour.

"I thought I could trust you!" Your mother jabbed a finger at you, pacing back and forth in front of you while you wailed into your pillows. "I can't believe you betrayed my trust!"

"I've already told you I was so-sorry-" You choked, wishing nothing more for this feud to end, begging the universe to turn back time, so you could have anticipated of when your family would have returned home- saving you and Jimin from this shame.

"What if we had run an hour late, huh!? For God's sake, [Y/N], you're only sixteen!"

"Mom! It-It wasn't like that!"

"Well, it sure looked like it!" Tears brimmed her eyes, because her heart was just as torn as yours, battling with what she should do as a parent, but also inwardly understanding what it was like to experiment in falling for someone at a young age. Something she hadn't really shared with her children. She had left the room for quite some time, trails remaining damp upon your cheeks before your mother returned with firmly crossed arms.

"Mom, I promise, it wasn't my intention," your voice broke, trying to gather whatever explanation you could, but she stopped you.

"I'm sure it wasn't, but I talked to your father and we came to an agreement. You will finish out the school year here, but once it's over, we're moving back home."

It was like your world shattered all at once in so many different directions, and there was no way to describe the abrupt halt of your heart mirroring in the way your eyes expanded in sheer dismay. "No! No, no, no- Mom, what about Jimin!? I can't just leave him!" The pain etched in your cries haunted your mother more than you'd ever know, but at the time she was doing what she assumed was the right decision.

"That's the point, [Y/N]. You're not allowed to see Jimin, speak to him, or even think about trying to see him. I've already spoken to his mother,"

"But- but what about the play?" You panicked, desperation clinging within your words, not wanting to process what was just demanded of you.

"I don't know. Right now, I'm too upset to decide."

It was the worst night of your life. One thing you never expected throughout your friendship with the one person who mattered most to you, was losing Jimin, especially knowing that once school ended, you would move back to your hometown, far away out of his reach. Your cellphone was already locked in your parent's room, and any form of technology, you would no longer be in possession of if your mother could help it. Bawling uncontrollably, you cursed fate for taking away what could have been.

The spring musical was the only time you and Jimin were able to truly see each other amongst rehearsals; and the night the play began, the pair of you performed with all you had, trying to mask the hurting as if it hadn't existed, portraying as though all was well when really your world was falling apart. Even when the evil fairy sprinkled dark magic upon the Prince's Kingdom, Mrs. Lee flew her fingers speedily along the piano enhancing the volume, imaging the chaos felt beneath your chest. The Prince and evil fairy battled it out until the enemy was defeated, the piano softening to a more pleasant sound that eased you enough to force your face into a loving grin.

The cast crowded around the both of you, but you hadn't noticed, because the only person you longed for, getting lost in his shining eyes was Park Jimin's. "Fairy, my love, listen to the sound of my voice," he bowed, reaching his hand toward you- hands collided tenderly, "Whether ye stay or whether ye go, you have a choice." You yearned for it to be real, that you had a choice- that you could stay with him. Stay with him there in this city where the two of you could remain best friends and possibly become even more. "Just promise me, as each day passes, that ye will never forget thy love or my Kingdom as long as ye live." You swallowed the lump in your throat, fighting tears at the finishing of Jimin's final line.

"My prince, in every dream I dream, I choose thee," though not within the script, Mrs. Lee always preached improvisation, and lightly, you touched his cheek, him flickering his stare between yours whilst leaning into your palm, the Kingdom rejoicing when Jimin pulled you into a crushing hug. The faint smell of his cologne met your nostrils causing you to memorize this moment as best as you could, so you'd remember everything about him. His touch, his hold, his smell, his smile. Anything you could take with you in hopes of getting to see him again one day.

When the intro of the duet is keyed from the piano, hand in hand, you and Jimin faced the audience, smiles as heart stopping as could be, belting harmony from beginning to end, both capturing the audience with every word. Blended voices were breathtaking when the cast joined in, finalizing the night with dancing eyes and goosebumps across the theater, and even more applause when Jimin effortlessly succeeded in the originally dreaded lift where he spun you in the air, returning to plant your feet upon the stage. While the crowd stood to their feet in an ovation, the cast had you and Jimin hidden enough, and although time was ticking, Jimin hadn't cared. His palms cupped your cheeks while you tried to read his hurried eyes, the tip of his nose brushing yours before he captured your quivering lips. The kiss was soft. So soft, and when it ended, he whispered through the loud whistles of the audience to where only you could hear, "I love you," he breathed.

"I love you," tears fell from your cheeks, and he gripped your hand as soon as the cast dispersed into a line, uncovering the pair of you as rehearsed, leading to everyone bowing while the clapping continued to reverberate throughout the building. Although, beyond proud to be a part of such a successful production, nothing could take away the pain hounding your heart when your hand had to ghost Jimin's to find your parents. Your mother refused to let you out of her sight, and whether your parents were proud of your performance or not, you never knew, because not a single member spoke on the way home. Instead your mind replayed the secret kiss Jimin gave you over and over to the point it welcomed you in your dreams. It was hard not to cry when you had awoken, eventually breaking into a fit of sobs wishing Jimin had been there to hold you.

Depression was evident in your demeanor, and there was nothing anyone could have done to 'fix' you, or the situation you felt so hopelessly in bondage by. When the last day of school arrived, it had been the worst, and you and the person your heart belonged to had not spoken in months. Times where he would glimpse your way in drama class, you just couldn't bring yourself to face him, because it hurt way too much to accept the reality that you were leaving. You figured his mother informed him of your family moving back, especially since he never seemed to give up on trying to get you to at least look at him.

That last day of class, you cuddled your music binder to your chest, backpack straps hanging loosely from your shoulders, and you strolled upon the sidewalk to wait for your father to come pick you up. It was a sudden moment, when you curiously turned to lock eyes distantly with your best friend. You both stared, yet the way your heart sank to the floor, all you wanted more than anything was to run to him, embrace him in all entirety, kiss him for what you presumed would be the last time, and savor the moments you would have had with him. But, you couldn't, and you didn't; instead, you mouthed three words that you meant with all your soul, 'I love you.' Jimin bit at the corner of his mouth as fresh tears pooled- he looked down momentarily as if destiny had betrayed him before returning his eyes to yours, 'I love you, too.' As if it could have been anymore of an opportune time, your father arrived right then to pick you up, and in fear that he had seen Jimin, your head whirled to look back where your best friend had been to see he was gone, prompting a painful, long sigh of relief.

It had only taken a week for your family to officially move, finding a much larger home which happens to be the mansion your family resides in now. Although the space was nice, it still took months until you forced yourself to move on from the dancing boy that had appeared in your dreams almost every night. The boy who had stolen your heart when you hadn't realized it. There was an attempt, when you were allowed your cellphone back, that you tried reaching out to discover his number had been disconnected, and despite the gnawing of confusion, you guessed his mother must have changed his number, the same as your parents had changed yours.

Eventually, after a year of returning to your hometown, which included graduating high school, your mother convinced you to get back into acting, to audition for as many things as you could until you found a job. So, that's what you did to keep your mind busy, scouring any information you could get regarding auditions for tv shows, movies, commercials, absolutely anything that would just keep you going. Sporadically, you landed the lead role in two separate movies, gained a celebrity friend, Maeve, and continued into the years piled immensely with interviews, traveling, movie premiers, award shows, your fame skyrocketing to the point millions knew your name.

And just like that, your world became brand new. Became a clean slate. Your past buried behind you while you sprung forward. Your success in the acting business brought numerous calls pleading for you to audition for their movies; businesses were begging you to promote their products; magazines arranged for your photoshoots where you appeared on a myriad of covers- you rarely had a clear schedule, and you liked it that way. Lights, cameras, paparazzi, meeting other famous individuals as well as meeting your fans, you were becoming happy again, you were finally returning to having a steady relationship with your parents, and your sister improved in her artistic ability. You were slowly forgetting about the boy you once knew.

You made callbacks for yet another movie at one point, but unfortunately, had not gotten the lead role as hoped for, rather, you played a minor character which ultimately gave you a break from the consistent moving. Your body needed a break; your mind needed rest, and so you decided to take a short break until you found the motivation to search for another job. The movie merely didn't make it far- critics claimed the plot had been too predictable, but it made it to the big screen regardless, and for that you were grateful. Another year passed, now being twenty-two years old, you and Maeve went on a shopping spree throughout the streets of your favorite city, sipping frappuccinos in the smothering heat of summer, a poster happened to catch your eye. Stopping to read it, the straw of your drink pressed to your bottom lip, Maeve's furrowed eyebrows veered from you to the poster.

"What is it?" She asked, ears perked to the sound of clicking cameras though the pair of you have learned to ignore it. Mumbling the words along with you, Maeve leaned forward, "Auditions being held for a romantic comedy this Saturday.... 9am to 3pm... Oh wow! You should audition!"

"What? Why me? Why just me?" You turned your head abruptly while studying your giggling friend.

"You said so yourself that you wanted to be in a comedy! And, there ya go, how much more of a coincidence can this be?"

"A poor one," you took a long sip from your drink quelling laughter from the incredulous gape Maeve flashed you.

"Are you not going to at least try? You are [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N] for crying out loud!"

You were tempted, and you honestly hadn't been in a comedy since you were... Ten years old. Chick flicks had mostly been your calling though funny moments of course were mingled amongst the seriousness. "That I am, but I don't sit on a throne, Maeve, I'm just as normal as it gets."

"If you define normal as putting your potato chips in your sandwich then I guess you're right,"

"It gives it a lil' crunch," your mouth missed your straw awkwardly, but you swerved just enough to catch it, "you should try it sometime."

"I'll try it when you audition for this movie," Maeve teased, "Which you will even if I have to drag you there myself,"

"You have much faith concealed in that tiny body, but okay,"

So therefore, you auditioned. It was the lead role you applied for which was about a character who caught the eyes of two guys the second she stepped into the school. The movie seemed hilarious from what you could collect, and you were shaking your head in laughter when you called Maeve exclaiming how you had gotten the part as she predicted. Although, she squealed in glee, she was dreading the idea of adding potato chips to her sandwich as she promised she would if you made the part.

The following week, you couldn't wait to meet your co-workers as well as the rest of the crew, and as much as you hated to admit it, you were immeasurably curious of who would be casted as your character's love interests. Though numerous options, it was hard to guess, though your mind filtered through familiar faces in the acting business. The producers and director filed into the room when chairs began to fill, slapping a thick script in front of everyone.

"There's been a slight change of plans for the story," the director said, prompting your eyebrows to knit together as you wondered what he could potentially mean, "Instead of two guys fighting over you," he pointed in your direction, "there will be seven!"

Interested grunts and 'awes' echoed in the space, and you nodded in surprise; seven? Seven men wanting you all at once? That would sound farfetched to any woman, even in the position you're in as an actress, it remained unbelievable. The director rubbed his hands together, "They couldn't make it today, but we will officially meet them tomorrow to finish looking over the script."

It seemed as if all you did was blink when you made it to set the next day, dressed in your favorite boot heels and casual wear- you weren't paying a bit of attention when you suddenly smacked dab into someone who happened to over tower you.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Ma'am!" He said, his fingers tickling your arms from where he hoped you would stay steady.

"It's fine! I'm sorry, I should have been watching where I was going," you chuckled against the chagrin burned red upon your chest, and you couldn't help but be starstruck by the incredibly handsome face staring down at you. Noticeable dimples rested on either side of his grinning cheeks, and the coffee color of his eyes radiated kindness, and of course, you wondered innocently if he was one of the potential love interests the director mentioned the day before.

"I'm Kim Namjoon," he offered his hand which of course you took, enchanted by his smile, but you scolded yourself interiorly due to the obvious fact of not knowing him personally enough to care on whether he was available or not. There seemed to be a recognition in his countenance that you typically notice when people realize who you are, and you couldn't help the flattery when his hand still latched to yours picked up the pace while shaking it. "Oh my gosh! You're the [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N]! My girlfriend loves you!"

"That is so sweet of her," you were still blushing, but deeply touched by his words. Namjoon, dropped his hand in embarrassment from how long he had shaken yours, mumbling an apology, he slid his slim hands within his pockets.

"I must say, I am very honored to meet you. I've seen two of your movies with her and you were phenomenal!"

"Thank you very much, Namjoon! That means a lot. I hope I get to meet your girlfriend soon, she sounds like such a sweetheart," you tried to think if you had seen him in anything that had come out recently, but couldn't place a thing. You continued into the same room as yesterday, pulling your script from your bag, you settled into a seat before observing your surroundings, noticing in your peripherals Namjoon taking a seat beside a guy who appeared very quiet. Long, straightened blue strands spread upon his forehead while his dark eyes scanned the room. His lips were thinner compared to Namjoon's, and they rested contently while he leaned back in his chair. You tried not to stare too much, but when he caught you, you grinned instead of averting your eyes, relief flooded your senses when his lips raised into a side grin in return- his nametag reading 'Min Yoongi.'

When the seat on the other side of Yoongi skidded against the concrete floor, you instinctively looked to the sound, beyond amazed at the sight you saw. You weren't one to spike perspiration on the lining of your forehead just from seeing a man, but with the way his bandana complimented his brown tendrils neatly stacked on his head, you were beside yourself. His square jaw was locked in concentration while his petal pink lips pursed- his chocolate eyes rushed over the lines where he opened his script.

"Kim Taehyung?" A staff member asked, Taehyung nodded in reply, the worker placed the nametag before him, rounding the table to set yours before you. You would honestly never get used to people knowing who you are prior to an introduction considering the staff member had not questioned if you were indeed you. Thought aside, you were very taken aback on how sculpted this man was to a heavenly perfection.

"No, I didn't mean to trip the guy, I just wanted some food!" You vaguely identified the male whose windshield wiper laugh pleasantly greeted your ears while he found a seat, "Seriously, I hadn't seen him standing there." He poised his head enough to lock eyes with Min Yoongi, and you tilted your head curiously with question if they happened to know each other. But my, so far, who you assumed were going to be the men who were going to fight for your love, you were quite mesmerized by their beauty.

"Hello, my name is Chan-ri, I'm a huge fan of yours, how are you?" The exquisitely rosy cheeks of a red headed female entered your vision, and hearing her name, you remembered her from a TV show you binge watched with Maeve before. Genuinely, you offered a handshake, her comfortably taking the seat beside you. After you thanked her for her compliment whilst answering her question, she leaned in closer to your ear, "Is it just me or are these guys ca-ute?"

"The one in the bandana is looking better and better," you winked.

"Gosh, I couldn't agree more. And, I don't know if you've heard the rumors. But, the singer Jeon Jeongguk, apparently auditioned for a role,"

Eyebrows raised when you heard his name, "You're kidding!" You gasped in excitement. "Euphoria is literally my favorite song by him!"

"I could rave about his music all day long!" His presence entered the room as if on cue, hushing you and Chan-ri into bottled-up giggles, her winking at you in a way to say, 'we will talk later when the coast is clear.' A man with even redder hair than Chan-ri followed behind the well-known singer, and your lips parted in a silent gasp along with your amplified glance. "H-Hoseok?" He immediately sought for who said his name, and when he realized it was you, he couldn't help the smile that decorated his face.

"[Y/N]!" He greeted loudly, shuffling to collide into your hug, "Wow, how have you been? I haven't seen you in years!"

He helped you with dance moves for the spring musical sparking memories you hadn't reminisced in what felt like a lifetime ago, but here he was, in the flesh. "What a small world, I've been wonderful! How are you, Hoseok? What have you been up to? Look at you! So handsome!"

Hoseok thanked you before catching up with his life- he decided to go into acting when he graduated from Konkuk University with his soon-to-be fellow co-stars Seokjin and Yoongi which all made sense as to why Seokjin seemed comfortable talking to Yoongi earlier. Due to the encouragement of an individual he befriended, in high school, Hoseok explained how it stemmed him to chase his dreams, and here he was, auditioning for his first movie, excited to reunite with a familiar face from his past. He sat on the other side of Chan-ri, making conversation with her while you focused on the twiddling of your fingers. A poke on your shoulder made you jump an inch,

"Excuse me, is this where we meet?" A lighter voice spoke, but there was a distinct familiarity to it. When you faced the direction of where the question came from, the first thing you visualized was a silver necklace holding a pendant you hadn't seen since you were sixteen- one that you gifted someone as an emblem of your friendship- you were confused because not many people owned this specific piece of jewelry, and when your eyes slowly made the adventure to the individual's face, the rigidity paralyzed your frame faster than you could anticipate. Those eyes.

You knew those eyes. Better than anyone.

There was no stopping the intense hammering of your heartbeat; your temples pounded profusely, and he was frozen in place at the sight of you, because of your eyes. Neither of you moved, because there was disbelief at who either of you were looking at- his hair, now dyed, gleamed sleek blonde tendrils parted but long enough to tickle the lateral canthus' of his eyes, face thinned in a mature eloquence. It had been nearly seven years since the last time you ever saw him, and even then, he reflected your confusion, anxiously collecting whatever jumbled words he could form into sentences, but it was too late. The director enthusiastically entered the room, dispersing the moment just as quickly as it came.

"Greetings everybody! I see you've met our seven new cast members!" He grinned ear to ear, gesturing his hands toward all the guys. Shivering, but trying to keep it maintained, you watched your long-lost friend take a seat across from you next to Jeongguk. "Oh, and here's your nametag," the director plopped one in front of Jimin, you swiftly dropped your gaze, gritting your teeth in reaction to the strong waves of shivers plaguing your body. He was there. Park Jimin, as though you were acquainted with a ghost, was sitting right there in the midst of the small crowd, but with the way your muddled state was feeling- it had been only you two.

"Alright, let's open our scripts to page three. We need to review some main points of the story line." The director informed, but you were hardly listening, yet you kept your eyes zoned upon the booklet before you, only flipping pages at the sound of others doing so. Too many memories spun nonstop like a whirlwind, and you could sense Jimin glimpsing at you in the same wonderment as you were.

The trips to Mcdonalds where you both would split a large fry and dream about the future; the afternoon at school when the pair of you laughed about some cocky kid who face-planted in PE while playing soccer; the days you'd go jogging together and joke about anything under the sun; the moment when you two were drawing with your sister, and you thought Jimin's cow doodle was a duck. One of your fondest memories was your fifteenth birthday when Jimin, even Hoseok, along with your parents planned a huge surprise party just for you; the get-togethers with the drama club; auditioning for the lead roles in the spring musical and landing them. And the grand finale, when Jimin kissed you on what had been a final goodbye before exiting the stage that very night.

Nobody, other than Hoseok, in that room knew of the friendship you and Jimin once had. Nobody in the world would have known except the pupils the two of you attended school with. You were aware that if Jimin were to become famous, people would dig deeper to find that the both of you were in a movie together at ten years old, and all the other evidence that would explode within the media. You, to this day, will never forget the anxiety shooting through your figure while you pretended to review the script wishing you had the guts to just look at him.

The meeting ended in a blur, and you slung your bag over your shoulder, death gripping the script, and rushing out of the room where you felt as though you had been suffocating. You did not want to relive the heartbreak, so in desperation, you wanted to run.

He stopped you before you could even make it halfway to the entrance.

"Wait!" He bellowed. People were bustling by without any concern, but with the risk of a paparazzi capturing this moment you knew would need to be private, you ducked into the other side of a large staircase that appeared vacant aside from a tall plant, and Jimin followed suit- you spinning to see him sprinting toward you. For once you then understood when people described something to relate to a scene from a movie, because there was the love of your life, as if in a movie, running until he reached where you were. He was breathing heavily from the frenetic gesture, and understandably speechless, the pair of you weren't sure where to remotely begin. Swiping a slow hand through his hair, he looked so exquisite as he always had, and though you didn't want to revert to staring at the tiled floor of the opposite side of the lobby, you did. Carefully, he slipped his hands into his pockets, pressing his lips together in apparent worry.

"You're- you're blonde now," though small, a hint of a smile tinged your lips, a breathy laugh broke through Jimin's tight-lipped grin that infamously made his eyes disappear.

"Yeah," Jimin whispered tenderly, "Felt it was time for a change, ya know? Have been getting it colored since my twentieth birthday," breaking the ice enough, you found the strength to meet his gaze. His lips parted to then close multiple times, until he wetted them, "As you can tell, I honestly, don't know what to say, but, my God, I am so proud of you,"

"Jimin-" your voice broke, chin trembling from the burning tears when you knew that he was referring to your success, and the woman you have become. He stepped closer, releasing one hand from his pocket holding it out as if to calm the nervous tension.

"Really, [Y/N], I- you-" stammering through his words, you could see that he was blatantly in as much shock as you were, processing the fact that his long lost love was standing before him in all your glory. "I gave up acting in high school," he swallowed roughly, "as you can imagine, I was going through a rough time." He had been terrified to admit the reasoning considering the pair of you had no idea what had happened personally in each other's lives in the time between, and though he battled with what to say, he found the courage to just say it regardless, "When I lost you, I felt like- I just felt like there was no reason to really try anymore."

"Jimin," you whispered as if pleading with him, "I tried reaching out to you, but your number was disconnected- it was, it was disconnected, I-"

"No, [Y/N], please, don't cry- it's not your fault- Please," this time, he inched so close, that if you would have collected enough bravery, you could have rested your forehead at the curve of his chin where he could have invited you in for the warmth you could fall forever deep in. Eyes refusing to break contact, he continued, "After I saw your first movie, there were a few interviews I listened to where you said some of the most encouraging things, and I realized, if there was anyone I aspired to be like, it's you." Surprise lingered in your expression, because how could any of this be real? You knew stories like this were only filmed for the interest of the world, so how could someone you once cherished return out of the blue to tell you exactly what you needed to hear? "You, [Y/N], are the reason why I never gave up on myself. Why I never gave up at all. Why... I decided to go back to what I loved."

You were his inspiration, and because of that he ended up here. Back when you thought fate was so cruel to take him away from you, here he was, back into pursuing his passion for acting, all because he never gave up on you. You hated falling apart, you hated crying unless it was for the cameras, but in all vulnerability, especially when Jimin pulled you into his arms where your nose pressed into his chest, you cried. With all the pent-up emotions from a time you tried to avoid, you cried. Jimin refused to let you go until you were okay, and without any delay, you stayed by his side, repudiating from going home when you had seven years of catching up to do. There was barely any attention on anything, not even how Jimin opened his hotel room door without you stealing his kisses to the point you couldn't breathe. Fingers tangled into his shirt, he kicked the door behind him, emotions pouring from the way he kissed you as though he was going to lose you again. The most experience you knew, sexually, was from scenes you filmed with other actors- mostly steamy make out sessions, but you had never personally done the 'deed' in reality. Your back plopped upon the bed, palms pressed on either side of Jimin's jaw where your fingertips graced his hair, his hands cradling the sides of your waist while he continued to part his lips so gently with yours.

"Wait," you stopped, Jimin's enlarged eyes flashed concern as though he may have hurt you, "No, no, you haven't done anything wrong. I just- I just," you trailed off, chest rising and falling to steady your nerves. "I've never..."

Jimin exhaled a sigh of relief, bowing his head enough to where his hair feathered your cheeks, "I haven't either." You would be lying if you said you weren't surprised especially with all you had heard from stories others had told about men when it came to sex. But, at the same time, you always knew Jimin was different. Or, maybe it was purely meant to be, how you two abstained from something that was destined to be saved for the pair of you to share with one another. "I don't," Jimin's eyes flickered between your own because if there was anyone, he had an immense respect and adoration for, it was you, "I don't want to rush you into anything-"

"Jimin," your thumbs ran along the soft skin of his face, halting his words, "I want you,"

There was a hopeful smile that beamed from him before he covered your lips with even more kisses, making your head spin in a bliss you only ever felt when being with him. "Are you sure?" He pulled away; eyes boring into yours as if reading every inch of your soul.

"More than anything," you nodded, lifting your head to touch your lips to his for only a mere second. He was so in awe of you that he would do anything for you, and that never changed and never will. Kissing him was the most captivating addiction, and you never wanted it to end. Still completely clothed- the innocence would have been humorous in others' eyes, but the two of you were learning. And, the two of you were wanting to learn together and that's all that mattered to you. Park Jimin had never made you feel uncomfortable at any point that night, and you knew he wasn't going to overstep any boundaries. The fast pace of his lips sparked a feeling to rise within your core- a new feeling you wanted so eagerly to explore, the warmth was nearly smothering your panties, and you instinctively spread your legs to where he comfortably remained, his hips grinding his clothed erection along your area, where the crave to feel the entirety of his skin was all you could think about.

Breaking the kiss, you trailed your fingers underneath his t-shirt, his stare timorous whilst you lifted it past his head, exposing the rock-solid muscles toned along his arms and abdomen. Your mouth watered causing you to gulp- never in your life had you seen such a masterpiece, even from his jawline to his soft, blonde hair- you still couldn't muster how ethereal this man before you was. Tossing his shirt to the ground, he remained above you, the necklace you gifted him years ago dangling before he kissed you hard while your fingertips soothed along his back, his hand moving to cup your attired breast, tenderly squeezing it releasing a soft moan from your lips. Just the feel underneath your fingertips of his warm skin made you anxious to feel him molding into you- gripping his wrists, leading them to the end of your shirt, Jimin lifted it off you- your lacy bra staring back at his broadening eyes which caused his breath to hitch in the back of his throat.

"Oh," he groaned, "[Y/N], you are so perfect," his words nearly brought you to tears; your hands rested upon his cheeks, bringing him back to you to plant a soft kiss on his thick lips, him lowering to where his skin finally met yours, the enticing move enveloping you all at once, you could hardly contain yourself, exhaling against his lips just for him to brush his tongue along yours. One by one the clothes came off until his bare legs were jumbled with yours, his erection rubbing along your dampened heat, his thumbs caressing your nipples- the ticklish feeling caused your fingers to dig into his back. Jimin nipped at your collarbone, leaving numerous kisses along your chest, moving backwards to kiss along your stomach, the wetness lingering while your eyes slammed shut in utter paradise. He pecked along your hip bones, his hands never leaving your breasts until he made it to your inner thighs. Slithering his fingers to cling onto your quivering limbs, he spread your legs, his breath panting tepidly along your folds, his eyes widening with the urge he always wanted to fulfill, and only with you. You had never experienced this, and though you had heard of the such thing from various sources, you were curious to know what it felt like. Your clit rhythmed with your hyperventilating, him moving to kiss your inner thighs before returning to your vulva. Your toes curled along the bed sheets, your body tensing in preparation- and that's when he did it.

Gently licking his tongue along your slit, up and down, the motion emancipating a high-pitched moan from your throat which motivated him to continue. He brought his fingers to spread your folds, your core clenching while he sped the movements of his tongue- licking and licking until your hips involuntarily began to shift- your fingers gripping the bed sheets- sweat beading your forehead. For a few minutes, he continued to pleasure you, the tip of his tongue sliding against your clit before returning to hover above you. Though you were uncertain if what you were about to do would be done correctly, you moved your hand to hold his erection, gliding up and down gradually, him hissing with how good it felt to have your hand wrapped around him. That gave you the inclination that everything was being done smoothly; Jimin rested his lips to where your heart pounded, then moved to suck your nipple while your hand did the work, his hands squeezing at the mattress in response to the growing feel of an orgasm.

He stopped you, not wanting to cum too soon, instead interlaced his fingers with yours and rested your closed hands against the pillows above your head. Your core still tightening from how aroused you were, both of you held each other's gaze, you nodded that you were ready. Ready for what you two had been longing for. He swallowed nervously, "I, um, I don't have a condom,"

"Oh," you seemed a bit more scared than how you really felt, "well, I mean, I am on birth control for my... monthly cycle, so I don't think... I should be good," relieved, his knees rested on either side of your legs; lips parted, Jimin's eyes met yours, him leaning forward to stay above you- your legs raising to spread in preparation- while his one hand rested beside your head, he took the other to hold his erection to your heat, your shoulders tensed from the butterflies swarming your stomach.

"Are you sure?" His whisper was nearly inaudible, but nothing in this world would ever change your mind.

"Yes," you nodded, breathless. "Please." Your hands moved to rest on his shoulders- slowly he began to push within your walls- the pain nearly brought you to tears- but, you clenched your teeth, forcing yourself to relax just enough for him to penetrate further, his heart thrumming beneath his chest, especially with the pain he did not want to inflict on you.

"[Y/N], I'm so sorry, are you sure about this, I don't want to hur-" he paused immediately when he heard a muffled cry escape you.

"It's okay, keep going," your eyes were squeezed shut, and you eased your body from the tension knowing he was halfway there. Steadily, he moved further until all of him was within you, the worst part finally being over, you calmed yourself enough to stare into his eyes, your breaths increased, yet relief flooded your countenance because now the pain was subsiding just enough for him to proceed. He thrusted slowly, his lips passionately syncing with yours as your fingers tangled with the smooth tufts of his hair- with one hand, he rested his fingertips above your clit, rubbing affectionately whilst sexing you- the building of the fire below causing your muscles to taut. How something so powerful could bring such a wondrous escape you would never be able to equate,

"Mmm," you hummed against his mouth- the sensation of the orgasm finally reaching its peak- him jolting backward, to finish pumping his spillage onto the bed sheets to then watching you unravel from the ecstasy released from your core. "Holy shit," you could barely find words- perspiration covered each of your bodies, the heat nearly stifling yet still wanting his skin upon yours lingered. He embraced you once the sensitivity dimmed- you nestled your face into the side of his neck.

"We did it," you whispered, finding it adorable how accomplished you feel, and Jimin pressed you tighter to him, his fingers running along the side of your arm- him moving to brush a gentle peck to the side of your forehead.

"We did it," he repeated, a large, contagious smile spreading across his face- a smile you had fallen in love with once upon a time. You shifted just enough to where your arms hugged behind his neck- bare chests pressed together- your leg lacing around his waist, his hand sliding to rest upon your hip. The silver pendant entered your sight, and amazement hovered,

"You still have it,"

It wasn't a question, more of a softened statement; it was the first time you mentioned it aloud, but Jimin knew exactly what you were talking about, "I never planned on taking it off," rendered speechless, you kissed him one more time, letting every piece of him whisk you away- and nothing could ruin this moment. Park Jimin was back in your arms, and nothing was ever going to take him away from you. Not again.

-

The fabric of your dress feels silky beneath your palms as you slide them to smooth out any wrinkles. Makeup finished as well as the curling of your hair, you are proud of the dress you chose to wear- it being your favorite color, and one you confidently feel Jimin will love just as much. For some reason, you feel anxious about seeing him tonight, though you don't know why exactly. You have known him a total of fourteen years, yet it still feels like you are seeing him for the first time with any day he is standing before you. Flicking off the lights to your bathroom and bedroom, you scurry down the stairs with your black clutch in hand, entering the living room in the direction of the front door.

"Well, someone looks extraordinarily beautiful tonight,"

"Oh! Mom! You scared me!" You gasp, chuckling when you turn to see your mom leaned against the door frame that leads into her office; her arms are crossed though she smiles at you suspiciously.

"Sorry, honey. I was on Facebook when I heard heels, so I came running,"

Lowkey a fashion guru, your mother always enjoyed seeing the gowns you would be fitted for events, and knowing you haven't had anything lined up recently, she rushed intuitively to see what her daughter is up to.

"Well, what do you think?" You twirl in place, the dress brushing your knees before hanging in place.

"What's the occasion?" Mom raises a brow, though you know she's teasing. Your mother has always been one who liked to be aware of where you are in case if something were to happen which you know that is how you would be if you had a child. Though aware of your fame and constant schedule, your mother wants to at least know you're safe, especially when you are followed most of the time in public.

"I'm... going to see Jimin tonight," you have refrained from bringing him up countless times knowing it can be a potentially uncomfortable topic for your mom, but you refuse to lie about your whereabouts for fear of something that might not be the case anymore. Distant, you notice the way she seems closed off, like something is drifting a cloud of culpability above her head. "Mom, are you okay?" Worried that something may be wrong, you question: does she not like him? Sadly, you truly have avoided any conversation revolving Jimin; even when he came back into your life, it still made the topic awkward.

Mom bites the corner of her mouth before letting out a defeated sigh, "I'll be right back." She steps into her office, and your eyebrows scrunch in obvious curiosity as to what she is doing. Waiting patiently, she makes her way to you, hand outstretched with a folded picture she gestures toward you. "I found this the other day, and I thought maybe you should have it." Your mother slightly grins against welling tears, and when you reach for the picture, you carefully open it, tears filling your own eyes at what you see.

It's a picture of you and Jimin from when the two of you were either fourteen or fifteen- taken in the evening since it was dark in the background; you figured it must have been cold because you were wearing a jean jacket while he wore his favorite gray hoodie at the time with the bolded word 'Supreme' written in the center. His arms were draped over your shoulders, and you could see the top of a Mcdonalds drink resting in his free hand. The pair of you were smiling so wide defining the happiness the two of you brought to each other on any given day.

"I remember this," you murmur, looking back at your mom, "Our families went out to eat together, and you and his mom were taking God knows how many pictures," you kid. A tear pangs your mother's cheek as she shares a smile with you.

"I remember too. It was such a great night."

"It was," staring at the photo, your heart swells, "Thank you, mom."

When you step to hug her, that's when she loses it- tears spilling down her cheeks while she holds you so close, "I'm so sorry," she sniffs, "We could have worked everything out- grounded you, supervised the two of you or, something! I shouldn't have forced you to move away."

"Mom," you plea, not wanting her to hurt because it breaks your heart to see anyone you know, and love upset. The both of you have held your feelings about the situation for seven long years and never even tried discussing it. Sometimes, talking can be the best medicine- not only do you have to think before you speak, but forgiving the person long before the two of you work things out can really help solve a problem. All one must do is listen.

"I just... I panicked! I didn't want my daughter to make a mistake. You were so young-"

"It's okay, mom, really. I understand,"

"I wanted to even force you to switch out of drama class, all because I was so scared. I didn't even want you in the play. Your father convinced me to let you perform because," she pulls away and holds your arms, wanting to look in your eyes that mirror her own, "He reminded me that we were young once too. We met at sixteen, you know that. And I just remember feeling so guilty when he told me that," your mother looks down for a moment to gather her words, "I could have lost my daughter because I believed I was doing the right thing. I should have trusted you, and I am so, so sorry for everything."

"Mom," you hug her again, "I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago."

"Oh, it's so good to know that!"

"And, mom, if we never moved back to our hometown, I wouldn't be as successful in my career as I am now. You encouraged me to go back into acting, and for that I will forever be grateful. Besides, Jimin came back. That's all that matters," your reassurance mends her heart together as she carries pride in her eyes on how far you have come in all that you have endured.

"I love you. And, if you ever need to talk to me about anything, anything at all, you know I'm here for you,"

"Even if it's about Jimin?" You giggle lightheartedly, tucking the picture of you and him in your clutch for safekeeping.

"Even if it's about Jimin." She smiles, "Now what are you still doing here? Go! Get out! Have fun, and please be safe!"

Skipping out the door, the feeling of closure overwhelms your soul, and for once, you feel as if life couldn't get any better, and now you and your mother can one hundred percent be the rock you will forever need no matter where life takes you. When the black SUV that holds your favorite driver, Stan, appears, you burst through the gate and into the back of the car, for him to hand you a small note.

Meet me on the rooftop. Your Chim Chim xo

You reread the note with a smile when you make it to an elevator upon arrival to Jimin's hotel- Stan saying to call whenever you are ready to be picked up. You're amazed how little people seemed to be roaming the hotel, and as a normal for you, you scoped your surroundings in case of any clicking cameras before stepping into what will lead you to your destination. Reaching the top floor, you find a staircase that you presume will climb you to the rooftop, so in determination you begin, trekking up the flight of stairs until you pause at a door.

Inhaling and exhaling calmly, you slowly push open the door, rounding a corner where an intriguing scenery causes you to gasp in surprise. Stringed lights glisten, covering every pole of mahogany wood that encloses the area together. Candles are blinking upon an elegant, black table for two adorned with silverware, lid-covered plates, a wine bottle, and two empty wine glasses. Flowerpots are hanging from different sections of the balcony, bringing more color to the patio; sparse trees fill the rest of the space, the atmosphere exuberating nothing but serenity. Jimin did all of this for you.

Eyes searching, you finally find him, in a black fitted suit, hands in his pockets while he stares at the starry sky. Taking the time to admire him, you have always been so in awe of how genuine he is. Treating his fans with all the love, constantly caring for his family, keeping up with his friends, and for always being there for you no matter what it takes. He listens to you the same as you do for him and being in the entertainment business where rumors spread like wildfire, sometimes a listening ear is what one needs. He has been everything you have ever wanted, and he always will be.

You clear your throat, "Well, sir, you weren't kidding when you said you wanted to spend time with me."

Whirling on a heel, his expression eases when he sees it's you, "Hey!" He beams, eyes disappearing from how big his smile spreads. "I didn't hear you come in. How long were you standing there?"

Noting how he seems embarrassed, you can't help but find it irresistibly adorable, "Not long," you promise, watching him step in your direction.

"Good, I'm sorry about that."

"It's okay, Chim. I don't even know why you're worried, silly,"

"Whoa, you really took me seriously when I said to wear something pretty," Jimin reaches for your hand while you lower your head timidly.

"Look at you! You look like a model!" Jimin throws his head back at your compliment, "And, look!" You point at his shoes, "New shoes! Look at those beautiful, new shoes!"

"I told you I was going to get new ones today!" He tries stifling his laughter in the crook of his arm before sliding your chair out for you to sit.

"And, have I ever told you how much I love the blonde hair on you? I feel like I don't tell you enough," One thing you have learned over the years of knowing Jimin, is he blushes just as easily as you do. When one compliments him, he can't help but slump in his chair before burying his forehead onto the back of his wrist.

"Why are you making this about me," he whines playfully, "I want this to be about you,"

"But, it's always about me, maybe I like to spice things up a bit to appear humbling," your eyebrows wiggle, sending Jimin in another bout of giggles.

"Speaking of spice, are you hungry?"

"Famished," you dramatically emphasize, Jimin shaking his head at you with amusement while he reaches over to lift the lid of the plate. A steaming slab of steak laying scrumptiously on a pile of rice makes your mouth water, even when your eyes trail to the seasoned vegetables beckoning you to devour them. "This looks so good," you acclaim, preparing a fork and knife in order to start slicing. Jimin has already taken a bite in agreement. Deciding to take another swoop of how beautifully the décor mingles with the design of the patio, you speak after swallowing your first mouth full of meat. "I wasn't expecting this," you say softly, looking back at Jimin who cocks a musing eyebrow.

"What did you expect? Mcdonalds?" Jimin grabs the wine bottle, succeeding in opening it before he pours each of you a glass.

"No, you brute, the patio! It's wonderful up here."

"I wanted everything to be special." He murmurs, lifting his glass after holding your eyes, "You deserve it,"

In all honesty, you are at a loss for words, because how you ever deserved a man so loving, you will never know. And amidst conversation, you briefly remember the picture your mother gave you before you left, and deciding to make this known, you wet your lips, "So, I talked to my mom earlier this evening and," you prop your elbow onto the table after gripping the memory within your fingertips, the back of the picture facing Jimin. "She gave me this, and I wanted to show it to you."

Handing it to him, he gently takes it, a reminiscent grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I remember this," he says, "my brother actually teased me because..." He trails off, his grin falling for a moment. "I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend that day, but I chickened out." Your shoulders fall a bit though your heart flutters. Jimin was going to ask you to be his girlfriend? What made him afraid to? You open your mouth to speak, but when you find no words, he continues. "I had assumed that it was just going to be me and you going out that night with Jihyun, but, then both our parents ended up coming."

"That's still so sweet of you," you assure him, wanting the guilt that clouds his eyes to dissipate.

"I like this picture by the way." He holds it up and hands it back over to you. "I want a copy."

"I'll print one for you," you pact, his sincere eyes never leaving yours- all you know is if the table between you didn't exist, you'd kiss him. But as if he reads your mind, he reaches across the table and intertwines his fingers with yours; your eyes still locked preparing to say something, but the scrape of the door makes the two of you jolt and hands part. "Dessert!" A waiter lays out two white bowls in front of each of you, to then taking up the emptied dinner plates.

"Chocolate ice cream?" You say as Jimin smirks at your mouth falling open in glee.

"Our favorite," he winks, bringing a fourteen-year-old memory back in loop of the days where he loved to wear it on his face, and you never let him live it down. Chocolate syrup is drizzled over the dollops, a leaf of mint nestled on top of a scoop to complete the appetizing goal.

"I thought you said you weren't good with girls," you scoff, pressing your spoon into the dessert.

"I'm not."

"Then what is this?" you say quickly, gesturing to the dessert of symbolism.

"I think what you're trying to say is I'm romantic," He raises a brow, pointing his spoon toward you. "Besides, I think it's about time that we admitted that we are committed."

A warm sigh brushes over your cold lips, the taste of the ice cream melted on your tongue, because you know he's right. What have you really been afraid of? Was it really your mother for the fear of her still not accepting him? Well, now you know that she will accept him, so that's not an excuse. Were you afraid of the hateful words that would be thrown your way if the press were to confirm a relationship between you two? In the end, it's about you and Jimin, and despite hate, what would it matter if the world knew? Candidly, you want to protect him from the media, but your strong feelings of keeping him safe are equal to how much he wants to keep you safe.

What really scares you, more than anything, is losing him again. And, you have remained in this strange thought that if the pair of you stayed simply friends that maybe it would prevent heartbreak. Others, for example Maeve, you know would be highly confused by your thought process on the entire subject because why not be in a relationship with him when you both already seem like you are in one? What's crazy is you know Jimin loves you more than anything in this world, you can feel it, yet the pair of you have not said it since you were sixteen years old. The couple years of him returning made you fall in love with him all over again, and the truth is:

You would love to be his girlfriend. You would love to just be his forever.

Before you can respond, the subtle sound of a guitar begins to play through speakers you notice are hanging a distance behind the flowerpots. As if on cue, Jimin stands to his feet, patting his lips daintily with a crumpled napkin before tossing it on the table. "You want to dance?" He asks you, offering his hand.

"Always," he leads you to a secluded spot upon the balcony, and his arm rests behind your back. The volume of the music rises just a notch, you squeeze his shoulder once before resting your head on his chest. The side of his chin brushes your forehead while he sways you so gently, and merely getting lost in the feel of him. Your heart pounds to the rhythm of the song, and you swallow against the nerves enveloping your chest, and you let the song finish into the start of the next one, when you pull away enough to gaze into his eyes. Concern etches in his irises the second he sees you, slowly swaying to a halt. "Jimin," you breathe, fingers tightening their hold on his hand and his shoulder unintentionally, but he is ready to hear what you have to say, no matter what it may be. "Jimin, I know the past two years have not only been the most trying, but they also have been the most rewarding," you timidly drop your gaze to the silver necklace he has resting on the collar of his shirt before returning to stare at him once again, "I am in love with you, and I am ready beyond belief to let the world know it."

Nothing will ever be more magical than watching Jimin's smile grow, and the second it does, Jimin puts both hands on your waist, hoisting you in the air, spinning you around from the excitement he feels soaring all around his soul. You let out a loud laugh, linking your fingers behind his neck, your body leaning forward just a bit as your legs bend to where your heels almost reach your back. "I got you!" He laughs as you lightly lay your chin on his soft bundle of hair until he settles you back to your feet. Jimin, the one who stuck with you from the beginning and will stick with you until the end; the one who knows you more than you know yourself at times, the one you can laugh with, the one you can cry with; the one that you know will never want to lose you as long as he lives.

"I love you so much," His beautiful, brown eyes continue to bore into yours and just the pure love in them nearly brings you to tears, and in this very moment, something rings true- that if this man doesn't kiss you right now, you're going to lose it! Running your left hand through his hair, you stop at the back of his head. His wide smile turns into a grin as he leans closer to your face, resting his forehead against yours prompting your lips to part in preparation for his kiss, ready to feel the fireworks bursting in every place of your heart, ready to be wrapped so tight in his arms, ready for him to leave you breathless as he always does. Jimin then slips a hand off your waist and holds up his pinky finger to you- it catches you off guard, but it the most beautiful way.

"Promise me something, [Y/Nickname]." he nearly whispers.

"Anything, Chim,"

"Promise me that no matter what... You'll love me forever."

A tear slips down your cheek as joy overflows you, because from the first promise the two of you ever made to now, every memory you both have shared has been forever written on your heart. And you know from the look in Jimin's eyes, you both will be sharing plenty more.

"I promise, Jimin, " you say, bringing your pinky to his and wrapping it securely. "I will love you forever and always. Now... you better kiss me before I change my mind!"

Thrusting his head back in flattery, he shakes his head at you with glimmering eyes as he straightens himself to where he can cup your face with his palms. There is never a dull moment with you, and he knows a playful remark always has to be congruent within the seriousness, and when his plush, warm lips touch yours for the first time this evening, the fireworks begin, but instead of in the sky, they are literally bursting in every direction of your heart. No camera, script or film can ever describe how real this moment is. How true it feels. You both hold each other tight, feeling not only love but forever. As Jimin kisses you, sparks ignite, both your heads spinning, hearts pounding and cherishing every second, excited for the future.

Like the end of a perfect movie, you can faintly hear the beautiful song, singing the words of your promise, come to an end.

[sxfik]

Idk if i am looking at this the wrong way, but like, what do you think of the difference between the way they portrayed Choi Myunghee's death and Jang Hanseok's death?

We see that Myunghee was burned alive, and the scene was quite chaotic, with her "dancing" while she was in flames and the zumba music playing in the background.

For Hanseok though, he was tied to a chair with the spear of atonement aimed at his chest. But his actual death, which is the scene at noon with the crow/raven felt almost peaceful?? We could see him shed a tear as he was about to die, and i almost felt sorry for him because the atmosphere was kinda melancholic? Idk if thats the correct term, but it just felt a bit sad compared to Myunghee's death.

Sorry for another long ask haha, i just have a lot going on inside my mind right now ㅠㅠ

"Oh and i forgot if i already wrote this, but in Hanseok's death scene, we can also hear the sad music playing, with the guitar and string!" - 2nd ask

hello!! thank you for sending in an ask!!

for future reference, i do not mind long asks at all!! i love seeing your thoughts and longer the better <33

i personally really loved how vincenzo handled both their deaths, and for me it was one of the best parts of the finale. i loved choi myung hee's death, especially how he cut up her feet and burned her alive. i felt like both their deaths were poetic justice. i loved seeing her beg and change her tone as her fear really creeped in. a key thing is that when she killed before, she would smile at her victim's begging (for example, the hot hunting dog that killed hong yu chan begging for his life and her cruelly laughing). almost every single time she has killed there has been classical/instrumental music and her dancing peacefully after. so the fact that her death was chaotic and messy and kept her "dancing" on her feet was justice for what she did to her victims.

compare this to jang han seok's death and yeah i think you could say it was much more "peaceful" but i feel that it was absolutely perfect for him. his defeat was satisfying because he is being tortured and has a much much more prolonged and painful death than choi myung hee. being burned to death is excuricating but it's shorter than having the spear of atonement driving into you over time. i also loved that vincenzo mentioned how han-seo was critical in han seok's death because he now has to sit with the knowledge that he was killed by something he never saw coming from his brother. he underestimated han seo time and time again, but now he almost made it out if not for his brother. furthermore, there's the moment where vincenzo takes his watch as "his trophy" showing just how defeated he is. vincenzo is giving the death that han seok give to his victims through choking him out like in his middle school days (the atonement spear is ultimately puncturing his lung). i feel like that scene was meant to be showing how pathetic he is now compared to how "godly" he was at the beginning, acting as god and controlling life and death. but now he's literally feed for the crows and the scavengers. i was happy to see that scene more than anything, because it drives in how alone he is and that he's still barely alive and suffering.

(also: there was also a post and greater significance to the crow and i think i saw a post somewhere about it but i cant find it.)

also kudos to both kim yeo jin and taecyeon, my god they REALLY killed it in this episode especially. there was an interview with kim yeo jin that reallllly nailed what choi myung hee was as a character and why she is one of my favorite female villains in kdrama. like i hate her (as in choi myung hee not kim yeo jin lol, she's completely the opposite from her character, very politically active) guts but i love her character so much. she is not attached to any male character and her motivations aren't connected to some other male character like in many kdrama female villains. she is evil for herself, she is greedy for herself and i believe that it is her that makes han seok worse, not the other way around. and taecyeon, my god. i've really loved him since bring it on, ghost and i believe he is one of the best idol actors i have seen. like the fact that he's a rapper for 2PM but also turns around and acts so so so well is astounding to me. that final scene and this whole show, we've seen him play the cute, playful intern with an sinister undercurrent and we can see him switch from cute to evil in a couple seconds, and his expressions are immaculate. overall, both of them killed it.

so yeah honestly, in the end i really think both deaths were perfect for and i felt like that last scene was meant to really show how alone and pathetic jang han seok really is and how far he fell in his journey to be god.