#and everything that allows me to respect myself and know myself would be traded away for the sake of it

[vacant2007]

i never do anything with love when i get it

[tismtron]

Could i request for the matsunos sextuples to react to obsessive Reader asking them "do You think you'll kill for me one day?" Like lana del rey's song "i want it all" hehehe

“Yes, of course I will my Darling.”

This was giving Mafia au so I was going to make based off them to make it more exciting. And it’s one of my favorite aus.

(Only warning for suggested murder)

Reader-afab she/her pronouns NOT PROOF READ YET

The Don Matsuno was known for being a lot of things. Prideful, Solipsistic, Vulgar, Comical, Egotistical, the list goes on. To sum up how he works in one word would be Direct. Everything about him can be seen as straightforward as he prefers to make orders clear enough to not mess up.

To his lover, His wife, to you, are well familiar with his work and how he can be. One of the reasons why you fell in love with him. Hell you love a lot about him. You catch yourself wearing his signature color red more often to his parties and meetings you are allowed to attend. The smell of his cigars he smokes lingers in his clothes makes you yearn for him when he’s away. One night when you were getting ready for on of his parties celebrating another successful business reap from his families casino and drug trafficking. You sat at your vanity mirror putting on your makeup when Osomatsu leaned on your shared bedroom doorframe. You glanced over at your husband who’s dressed to the nines in a formal black suit and blood red overcoat. You still find it funny how you still obsess over him like a crush even when you two are married.

Your mind began to wonder, does he feel the same way towards you? You were so close to him that you are in close touch with the rest of his family. But a small voice inside you makes you think his love may be superficial. He’s killed people. In the early start of his family business he did with his own hands. Now as the Don he can just send his men and grunts to take care of that for him. Would he kill for you?

“Would you kill for me one day?”

It just slipped out of your red lipstick glossed lips like it was a normal question.

He paused his moments while he lit a cigar, peering at you before putting the said cigar to his tongue.

“Of course.” He now strides to where you sat, making sure to keep eye contact with you through the mirror.

“You would?” Your voice still soft but clear. Searching for earnest truth his voice. Osomatsu puts his arms on either side of yours so hes caging you in his chest. “I would kill someone myself with nothing but my own hands for you. You are my world, my wife.”

Being the right hand man in a mass mafia organization is not a clean nor easy job to have. He’s the second most powerful man in his families business, following out the Dons orders and organizing the workers and grunts to do their respective jobs. You his spouse are allowed to be aware of what he does by the blessing of his mother. He’s very good at his job and goes above and beyond to protect you from any harm that does inevitably come with this business. But what really made you fall head over heels was how he tried his best to make sure you know that you’re loved. Karamatsu will take you on expensive fancy dinner dates when he’s off work. He will always have room for you in his schedule no matter what. You asked him the question when you were finished with patching up his wounds from today’s job. He had to supervise a couple trade transactions with only one getting out of hand.”you would ever Kill for me one day?” You asked while he was staring at his bandaged hand, now shifting up to meet your gaze. “Yes of course would my darling. What would make you think I wouldn’t my turtle dove?” His corny nicknames made you swoon at how he’s such a hopeless romantic. “I’d kill god himself for you my dear.”

The strategist coordinates all the money laundering and heists. Tracking the amount of money that goes in and out of the bank and each trade the family makes and spends. You do wake up at night to see him crunching numbers at three in the morning and have to usher him back to bed. You do see the stress in his eyes when his other brothers don’t take him serious unless it’s about the next mission. You two were at a party hosted by the Don with alliances and family. You were trying to find him in the crowd before spotting him at the balcony on his phone and a cigarette perched to his lips.

“Room for one more?” You joked as you poked you head out the door.

“Always.” He sighs with a smile realizing it’s you. A puff of smoke leaving his lips as you fix his tie.

“You know at a party you’re not supposed to be working.” You eyed his phone that was tracking there opposition that’s currently on the other side of the ocean.

“I guess you’re right.” He gives in before putting his phone away in his pocket.

The both you spent the night dancing and conversing with the other guests at the party. When you two were taking the limo back is when you asked him. “Would you kill for me if you had to?” His eyes go wide for a second. Feeling this question being unprompted. “You’re always worried about your work. I just don’t know if you would put in the same effort for me sometimes.” You look out the window when you say this. Not seeing the hurt in his face.

”Of course I would kill for you. dont ever think that I wouldn’t.” He grabs your hand and interlocks it with his, grabbing you chin with his finger so you’d make eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry for being so busy i promise I’ll do anything for you.”

When your spouse the Executioner of his families mafia business you get used to his suits being stained with blood in the laundry hamper.

He’s cold and rough to everyone, including to some of his family, but you get to see the hidden parts of him most don’t get to see. And you know you’ve worked hard to get to that point with him. And he’s worked hard to trust you, not just with himself but also with his family, his work, his life. You brought up the question you met up with him while he fed his tiger in the cellar. The same cellar he kept hustling tools and supplies. You leaned your head on his shoulder as he gave the last of the human arm to the tiger. His jaws crushing down of the tender bone with a crunch like it was nothing.

“Would you kill for me if you had to?”

Your eyes still at the feasting tiger while ichimatsu pressed a kiss on your scalp.

“I do this everyday.” He’s not mad, you can tell in his gruff tone he’s just tired.

“I know baby.” You hummed taking his arm in yours to drag him upstairs to get ready for bed. As you got under the covers of the bed he sat of the bed in his boxers. His back was covered in elaborate ink markings from the big tattoo he got. All of his brothers including him get a massive and detailed body tattoos to signify their roles and their status. Atop the back tattoo that’s marked his skin are scars and old bullet wounds. Some you remember patching up for him.”I’d kill anyone for even looking at you. you know that right?”his voice is gravely and tone stern. You hummed in response to signal that you do know. You reach out your hand to paw at the empty space of the bed. He huffed and shuffled close to you under the sheets. His big arms wrapped around your waist. His nose softly grazing the nape of your neck. “I love you. You know that right?” He murmured, his breath hitting the back of your ear. “I love you too.” You turn to him and softly kiss his temple. He softly grunts in response,

Falling asleep with you in his arms.

The muscle of the Matsuno Family Mafia jyushimatsu is feared by many. Mainly for his inhuman, unnatural strength and big never changing smile in his face. Usually with the executioner or Second hand man as a body guard. as many others know him for breaking bones with an empty smile on his face accompanied with a thousand yard stare, to you he’s your loving sweet husband. With him you don’t even have to ask. You’ve seen him crush some man’s skull with one hand one night because the skeez slipped a hand up your dress. Jyushimatsu looked to you after and said.”you want ice cream? I know a wonderful place far from here.”

The influence. Like the Strategist, the influence takes care of business with a technological advantage. Todomatsu wipes the social media of there’s identities and crimes. Promotes the family casino and keeps up with events and functions of the family business. While also keeping tabs on rival mafias, mobs, and gangs. Like Osomatsu, ge used to get his own hands dirty when they were starting out. Because of this of this he became well knowledgeable with a gun. You his wife ask him the question when he had the day off. You two spent the whole day spoiling each other in new clothes and window shopping. At nightfall you were both had face masks on and watched brain rotting reality tv. You sometimes still find it hard this guy is a mafia boss when he has a hamster face mask and laughing his ass off at the tv. You felt dumb feeling insecure while comfortable in your lavish blankets and having a cold penguin face mask on. But your just want to know.

“Would you kill for me?”

His eyes that were glued to the television now wide eyed at you, his cackling happy expression immediately gone.

“I’m sorry I ruined the moment-“

You immediately fall back on your words feeling embarrassed.

“No no no you didn’t you just caught me off guard.” He reached for your hand to intertwine your fingers together.

“Did something happened what brought this up?” You love that he cares so much.

“No! Not really. I don’t know really just curious.” You lie like you haven’t thought about this before. Would he get his hands dirty for you? He knows this question was one that was haunting you. Todo moved closer to you and peels your face mask off, the air cold on your face.

“Of course I will my darling.” He says with compassion, though his face mask takes away from the serious moment. You peel off his face mask and kissed him sweetly.

Let’s fucking gooo sorry for taking so long I’m fist fighting a hurricane and college

[alezangona]

The Shadow of Khansar (Salaar Fic)

Part 9 - The Monster and His Master

Part 8 | Part 10

Notes: Definitely NSFW

The next few months pass by in a blur, albeit a productive one. Khansar’s funds are carefully allocated across various administrations with special emphasis placed on programs pertaining to education, public health, and infrastructure. The government’s focus on foreign policy allows them to settle contracts with various energy management companies across the world to provide solutions for the electrical and water shortages occurring in their external agricultural territories. The continuous expansion of global strategies provides opportunities for reallocation of employment through various industries including manufacturing and trade, though Khansar stays vigilant in maintaining a diplomatic image by hiding its more profitable ventures away from prying eyes. 

Change doesn’t come as fast as Varadha initially hopes, the truth being that mistakes occur more frequently than not and it is enough to give him pounding headaches that won’t subside. Moments of high stress are all it takes for him to retreat into himself, gaze faraway as he analyzes every possible solution over and over, a heaviness settling into the line of his shoulders.

During breakfast one morning, when Varadha is toying more with his food than eating it, Baba finally cracks. 

“The responsibility of this kingdom is not yours alone, Beta. There are entire organizations and administrations working alongside you to find solutions to the issues we are facing. Let them do their jobs, while you do yours. Not every burden is yours to bear.” Then he lets out a small smile. “Anyway, it’s important for you to learn the importance of a good stroll over a hasty run. What you’re doing now is establishing a strong foundation for Khansar’s growth and longevity. Take that for granted and you’ll give way for its fall.”

Varadha doesn’t finish his breakfast that morning and he doesn’t miraculously stop worrying either. Still, he begins to notice just how much people care. It isn’t just his face worn from sleepless nights and early mornings. It isn’t just his eyes that contain a spark of determination in the face of challenges. 

The reassurance is enough to let him sleep a bit more peacefully at night. It also helps that he feels less alone than he has in years. Particularly in moments of leisure that are spent in the presence of his loved ones. 

Morning garden strolls with Baba as he talks about his life and his Noor. 

When she’d leave for her business meetings, I wouldn’t know how to handle myself. So anxious and restless till she came home. Time used to stand still without her, but in her presence, every day would pass by faster than a strike of lightning, and just as beautiful too. I’ve had years with her… it still doesn’t feel like it was enough time. She’d be proud of you, if she was here to see you now.

Afternoon chaturanga sessions with Baachi as he curses out Varadha for winning every round. 

I still look over my shoulders sometimes, waiting for someone to fuck with us. We’ve endured years of humiliation and it feels like there’s more to withstand. I’m still not used to the way people look at us with respect when we leave the palace. I’m thankful for what we have Anna, and I’m scared to lose it too— Fuck! Again? What’s the point in playing with me when you keep winning anyway? 

Evening movie nights with Deva as they curl up on the couch, shedding their responsibilities and falling into domesticity. 

I don’t know how I did it, but I’ve managed to convince Amma to come back to Khansar. I think the only reason she’s even budging is because I’ve been begging her to come back with me and telling her it’ll be different under your rule. Even then, she’s hesitant about staying anywhere in the capital. I don’t know if I can convince her to stay in the palace, not without putting her ill at ease. After everything she’s done for me, I have to draw the line on her behalf at some point. I’m thinking of getting her a place at the outskirts of town. I’m going to hate not seeing you every night, though.

That doesn’t end up becoming a problem for too long. The first night that Deva stays away at his mother’s new house, Varadha tosses and turns for hours on end, restful sleep alluding him. His cranky mood the next morning has the entire palace walking on eggshells. That is, until Deva enters the council room later on in the day for one of their meetings. They stay on different ends of the room, but when their gazes meet, the exhaustion drains visibly from their bodies and the palace is able to breathe once more. 

“Come home with me tonight?” Deva asks once they leave the room, walking shoulder to shoulder. Varadha’s step falters for a second before he goes back to matching Deva’s stride. 

“What?” Varadha carefully observes their surroundings, staying alert until he’s sure there’s no one else around them. 

“For dinner, you idiot.” Deva’s lips quirk. “Not some clandestine meeting of lovers.”

“Can’t fault me for checking, Bangaram. I never can tell what’s going on in that filthy mind of yours.” Varadha shrugs, biting the inside of his cheek to hide his smile.

“Yes, because I’m dying for a chance to ravish you in my mother’s home.” Deva rolls his eyes, but takes a step closer to him anyway, bending down so his gravelly voice can whisper. “Though… why bother with the wait when I can fuck you in that closet instead?” 

~*~

The first dinner at Amma’s ends up being more awkward than Varadha thought possible. As inviting as she is, there’s a prying gleam in her eyes as she observes the two of them, trying to gauge what could’ve happened during the past few months for her son to willingly return to this godforsaken place. To move her here as well. He finds himself trying to impress her for some reason, telling her about all the changes he and his team are trying to bring about to the city. If he was being honest with himself, for a moment it felt like the words were being forcefully ejected from his mouth, anxiety refusing to let go of the trigger. However, when there is a lapse in conversation after dinner while they put away leftovers, Varadha catches a glimpse of Amma looking at him with a relieved expression. He doesn’t know what it means, but is able to breathe easier when she sends him off with a box of leftover chepala pulusu (fish curry) and tells him to come visit again soon.

The weekly dinners end up becoming a reprieve for Varadha when he starts to realize just how much he feels like a kid again under Amma’s roof. Gone are his responsibilities of being Karta when he steps into the threshold. She acts with him as she always had, feeding him exorbitant amounts of food, reprimanding him for not sleeping enough, and even going to the extent of massaging his scalp when he confesses to her of the pounding headache he’s suffered with for days. 

His eyes close at the feeling of her fingers running through his scalp, the smell of medicinal oil oddly pleasant and soothing as she works the tension out from his muscles. Amma continues to talk to him, voice low and pleasant as she urges him to take better care of himself and something breaks inside him. A ball lodges in his throat and he can feel wetness forming behind closed lids. When they flicker open, Deva is standing in front of him, a glass of water in hand. Concern immediately clouds his features and he shifts his body forward, only to stop when Varadha discreetly shakes his head, a wobbly smile forming on his lips. 

“Stay here with us tonight,” Amma commands, unaware of the plight he’s facing. “The second you go back to that palace you’ll spend the night overworking yourself and I refuse to let you run yourself into the ground. Deva, go set up the guest room and don’t let him leave till tomorrow morning.”

Later that night, once Amma is asleep, Deva sneaks into Varadha’s room, crawling into bed and holding him tight. 

“Are you okay?” Deva sighs against his ears when Varadha doesn’t answer immediately. “Amma ki chadastham ekuvara, anthe (Amma is just stubborn, that’s all). I’m sorry if what she said hurt you at all.” 

“No, she didn’t do anything wrong.” Varadha gulps, pressing back into Deva. “Amma gurthukuochindi, ra (I remembered my mom).” 

Deva doesn’t reply, choosing to press a kiss into Varadha’s hair, wrapping his entire body around his lost king and trapping him within the confines of his limbs. Varadha sleeps more peacefully that night than he ever has during the past few months.

The next morning as Amma sends them out of the house, she stops Varadha in his place, a hand wrapped around his arm. 

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you two since you were children. Karta and Salaar aside, when it comes down to it, you’re just two kids who’ve been forced to grow up too soon. Don’t let those titles define you for the rest of your life, nana. Don’t make the same mistakes as…” The way her gaze digs into his is enough to make him understand, so he nods back, a promise in his own right. 

She lets him go.

~*~

The peace doesn’t last long, it hardly ever does in a world like theirs. 

They start hearing of various raids across India that begin to interfere with their black market trade. Before they can consider taking action, casinos, brokerages, and banks partnered with Khansar are stormed in an effort to prevent money laundering and other illegal activities. Trucks containing various goods such as weapons and drugs are stopped en route, all the material seized and confiscated by the government. A frenzy erupts in the capital as calls are made to various seeds and contacts planted in India, demanding answers for the sudden crack down. The answer, it turns out, is rather simple.

The government of India aims to fight back against crime… to fight back against Khansar. 

It’s not an answer that sits well with anyone. Definitely not Varadha as everyone in his court looks to him for answers. Tensions rise every day in Kotagada as the Doralu debate with their Karta about the best course of action to take to preserve their economy. In the end, there is nothing but disdain as the court adjourns, no real solution to be found. 

For the time being, the best course of action is to be more discreet and careful than usual. They run checks on their supply chain to prevent security breaches. Only certain businesses are given access to trade after a thorough inspection process. Different routes are established, intricate and ever changing, with smaller shipments being sent out at a time. Overall, it’s not a perfect system, but it’s enough to get them by.

~*~

Deva’s eyes stay firmly planted on the ground and he hopes that Baba will finally break the silence. He doesn’t. He holds his cap in his hands, leaning back against the chair as if his age has finally caught up to him. Bilal doesn’t seem to be of much help either as he paces back and forth, carefully avoiding Rhinda who scowls at the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. 

The creak of a door opening snaps them to attention. Varadha steps out, face void of any emotion as he jutts his chin. 

“You can go see him now, if you’d like.” Baba doesn’t wait for him to finish the sentence before he disappears through the door. 

“I didn’t even know he could move that fast.” Rhinda tries to joke, but no one laughs. He doesn’t look too amused either as he falls back into his chair. 

Varadha makes his way to the large window, fists clenched at his sides. Within seconds, Deva is next to him.

“The name of Khansar was enough to stop them not too long ago. Now they’ve attacked us at the heart of it.” Varadha’s hand clasps ironclad around Deva’s tattoo. “I want them dead. Each and every person who dared to lay a hand on him.”

“As you command, Karta.” 

“The thought of Khansar alone should terrify them. Touch what belongs to us–”

“You pave the path to your own destruction.”

The Karta’s fist drops back down to his side and his weapon is released. 

~*~

Death for anyone who stops the seal. 

That is what Deva declares. No one in court bothers to argue. Not when it was a law that would benefit their own economy. Even if they did object, they wouldn’t challenge the monster who just committed a massacre to please his master. 

Rakshasudu.

That is what they begin to call him. Not to his face or the Karta’s. Not in scorn either, but in awe of the sheer power that he exudes. The new name becomes a declaration of acceptance. 

A violent man for a violent city. 

~*~

“A symbol. All that it brands, belongs to you.” 

The simple phrase from Deva’s lips ignites a raging fire within him. Varadha’s eyes darken in the confines of the room, gaze honing in on the devil’s mark stamped against Deva’s bare chest. 

“Come here.” Varadha commands. He watches as Deva saunters towards him, the glow from the lantern casting shadows onto his rugged physique. His fingers ghost against the seal, drinking in the intricate artwork that decorates tanned skin. The eyes of the devil leer into him, ferocious teeth barred in contempt. It was nothing more than a small circle of ink, able to fade away with the swipe of a finger. Yet, it possessed the ability to shake an entire nation to its core. 

So much power in such a small symbol. 

And the man who imbued it with that power stands before him, beautiful and pliant, his face sculpted to express unbounded devotion. 

Varadha’s hand darts out, fingers wrapping around the underside of Deva’s jaw as he tugs him closer. Deva breathes sharply, surprised by the action, but doesn’t move. He waits patiently, unblinking as Varadha leisurely devours the length of him. In a sudden flash, Varadha turns him around so that Deva’s back is pinned to his front. Deva catches a glimpse of the image in the mirror planted across from him, a pathetic whimper leaving him at the sight.

Varadha’s eyes penetrate through the reflective surface, dark, calculating, and aroused. His fingers dig into Deva’s pulse point as his other hand travels down the expanse of his torso, nails scraping against sensitive skin, eliciting a feeling so strong that Deva’s eyes flutter shut and he arches back into Varadha, desperate for a taste. The furthest he can get is the brush of his lips against the side of Varadha’s jaw before he draws back with a tut.

“Salaar,” The warmth of his breath fans against Deva’s ears, the smoky tone exhilarating him further. “My Salaar. So beautiful when you give yourself to me like this.” His hand slips further down, stopping at the bulge between Deva’s thighs. His fingers dance against the sensitive flesh, featherlight touches that have Deva working to hold back keens of frustration. That is, until Varadha palms him through the fabric of his jeans, the firm touch causing Deva to release a low moan. 

“Va–” The name catches in his throat when Varadha’s grip tightens around his neck significantly. Varadha’s lips begin to explore the curve of Deva’s nape, sharp bites that prick into his skin, only to be soothed by the gentle slip of his tongue. Varadha hums softly into him, slotting his hips against the curve of Deva’s ass and pressing into him just enough to let his arousal be felt. Slowly, the hand that is wrapped around Deva’s throat begins to descend. Within no time, Varadha works Deva out of his jeans, hands circling against the heavy length of him.

“Open your eyes and watch what I do to you.” He growls, teeth catching onto Deva’s ear. Deva’s eyes flicker open at the order and he digs his teeth into his lips at the debauched image of him in Varadha’s arms. Hair askew, pupils blown, skin marked by claiming bruises. He lowers his gaze to where Varadha’s hands are pumping him unceremoniously, his thumb circling against his slit, collecting precum and spreading it across the throbbing surface. It doesn’t take long for Varadha’s hands to become coated with the evidence of Deva’s arousal and the sight itself makes Deva tremble with need. “You look beautiful like this. Pliant in my hands, flushed beyond belief, desperate for release.” 

Deva hisses as Varadha tugs against his balls, the mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelming him enough to close his eyes for a chance of reprieve. 

“Open your eyes, Salaar. I won’t tell you again. Take your eyes off the image of what I’m doing to you and I won’t let you come for me tonight.” The warning incites panic and Deva’s lids snap open, catching the merciless grin on Varadha’s face. “Good boy.” 

The motions of his hands speed up around Deva’s cock with varying pressure and Deva is forced to watch himself break, tremors spreading across his overstimulated body. His chest heaves with panting breaths, muscles clenching in an effort to hold back his inevitable release. As he watches from tear-filled eyes, Varadha’s reflection reshapes itself in the mirror, a smug curl of his lips as it dawns on him what Deva is doing. 

“Such a good boy, holding yourself back for my sake. I didn’t even have to ask, did I? You’re just that desperate to please me.” The throaty chuckle causes Deva to flush deeper and dig his fingers into the soft material of Varadha’s clothes. 

“Please.” Deva groans, on edge. A tear rolls down the corner of his eye and satisfaction paints itself across Varadha’s features.

“Come for me, my beautiful Salaar.” A gasp leaves Deva’s lips, his cock twitching as the sticky residue splatters against the skin of his stomach. His eyes close and he leans back against Varadha, spent as his orgasm flows through his system. He can feel Varadha’s arms wrapping around his waist, lips brushing against his ears as he whispers sweet nothings while pleasure settles into his bones. 

By the time Deva is able to ground himself enough to open his eyes, he catches sight of Varadha’s gaze drilling into the seal stamped against his chest. A shudder of pleasure rocks through him when Varadha pushes him onto the bed, his hand curling around the dark mark, a wildness in the depth of his kohl rimmed eyes that has Deva hardening once more. 

“Mine.” Varadha places a searing kiss against his lips, stealing his soul from within the confines of its cage. Deva gives back just as much as he gets, wanting nothing more than to have Varadha understand that his entire life belongs to him and only him. By the time Varadha pulls away, stripping out of his shirt, Deva’s kiss-slick lips whisper back words of reassurance.

“Yours, always yours.”

[sumu-samu]

(Broken) Habits

Final part, glad to get this off my drive lol.

Master list | part 1 | part 2| part 3

Two months later

Since that night Cutie and Geordi either texted or called every night. Eventually Geordi moved back in with them, and for the first time in a while, it wasn’t silent. They still never asked to enter his mind, but not because they were over stepping that boubndry, but because they still didn’t trust themselves. If they did it once what was stoping them from doing it again. They couldn’t hurt Geordi like that, not again.

“Hey,” Geordi’s voice was soft, “Penny for your thoughts?” He gave them a half smile as he set their breakfast down in front of them.

They just shook their head, “No- nothing. It’s nothing.” They picked up their fork and started eating.

“Hey, Cutie…” Geordi also picked up his fork but didn’t start eating yet.

“Hm?” They hummed with mouth full of eggs.

“I- I’m not saying it’s something you have to do… not if you don’t want to… but I’ve just noticed that… you haven’t asked to you know-” He couldn’t even get the full thing out before Cutie almost choked before swallowing their eggs.

“I haven’t. I haven’t read your mind. I haven’t gone in there. I- I’m better I swear. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Panic filled their voice.

“No, no,no that-. I didn’t think that you did. You say you’re better and I believe you, it’s just… you haven’t even asked to… and… i guess its just… I kinda miss it.” He shrugged. “Do you think you want-”

“No.” They replied sharply without looking at him.

“That-... that was fast… is… is everything okay?” He was taken aback from how quickly they shut him down.

“Im fine.” a short respond with the same sharp tone.

“Cutie, I don’t mean to pry, and seriously if its something you really don’t want to talk about I’ll back off. But, I know you my love. I can see something is wrong. I’m still Geordi, you’re still my Cutie. The only thing thats changed is you’re getting help. You can still talk to me. Trust me. Like I trust you.: His eyes were full of concern, with love, with adoration.

“I-.. I do trust you Geordi…” The tossed their eggs around their plate with their fork.

“But-... There’s a but in there isn’t there?” Geordi layed his hand ontop of theirs.

“I don’t… I don’t trust… I don’t trust myself.” They looked up at him with sad eyes. “I’m scared Geordi. I’m scared if I’m allowed in once, I’m going to fall right back into that shitty person I was. The one who didn’t respect your boundaries, the one you felt necessary to compare to so shitty ex. I’m scared I’m going to hurt you again.” Their eyes began to water, they tried to bat away any stray tears, but Geordi took both of their hands in his.

“Look at me. Cutie, look. Recovery is a slow and strenuous process, I know it may feel exhausting, sometimes you’ll fall backwards and it may feel like you aren’t making any progress at all. But hear me when I say this, as an outside perspective, not as you, not as your lover, not as your boyfriend, as just Geordi, you have come so far. And it touches me to hear you say that the reason you haven’t is because you don’t want to hurt me, thats sweet, it is. But Cutie, you can’t trade one extreme for another. I like it when you talk to me in my head, its fun, it feels intimate, all I ask is that you ask before you do, and if I ask for some time, then give me a little time.” Cutie was nodding their head the whole time he spoke. “Now, do you think you would maybe want to…”

“I-.. N-... uh…” Cutie struggled they did, they really did, but like… one talk isn’t going to make those thoughts go away.

“It’s okay to say no. But just know that right now, in this moment, I want you in. I want you to listen.” He looked deep into their eyes. Cutie felt themselves nod their head. “Okay. well, youre more than welcome.”

Cutie entered his mind. Cute, so cute. They care, they’ve changed. Change, good, good change. Beautiful eyes. Can they hear? Can you hear? Are you listening? Cutie nodded their head. Good. good. Smile, cute smile, I love that smile, I love you. Never leaving. I won’t leave. I love you. Cutie chuckled “Geordi”

My name. Sounds sweet. I like when you say my name. “Yes?” whats up baby? What do you need? What can I do. Smile, keep that smile. Love that smile.

“Go eat your breakfast you dork.” They laughed

Laughing, cute laugh. Sounds like music. Like angels, I love that laugh, I love that smile I love you. “Right.” He got up and went back to his seat to eat. I’m so lucky, I love you. Look at me, let me see your eyes. Beautiful eyes, gorgeous eyes, I could get lost in those eyes. Hey don’t roll them at me. You know what? Just for that…

No, don’t you dare they tried to stop him but it was too late

Iiiits a smaaall world aaaftr aaalllll. It’sss a smaaalll world afterrr all-

I will disconnect if you don’t stop

With that the door bell rang.

I’ll get it! Geordi ran to the door before Cutie could even get up. They heard the door open Who? Familiar. They look familiar. Name… damn it why am I so bad with names “uhm… hello.”

“Hey! Cutie here?” A familiar voice rang out.

They got up from the table and went to the door, wrapping their arms around Geordi, “Hey Stealth, Hi Milo.” They waved to the slightly smaller male behind their friend. He was taller than Cutie, almost Geordi’s height but Stealth was a giant so they made everyone look small. He didn’t respond to the greeting.

“Milo, be nice. S’ry He’s a lill grumpy cause I made Him come. If we had it his way, we’d been layin’ in bed all morn’.” They waved their boyfriend’s pouty mood off.

Tall, scary, why does that man look so mad, should I let them in? I should let them in. Don’t be rude Geordi of course you should. “W-well, come in no need to uh, no need to stand out in the open. Un-unless you want to.” Geordi said nervously. He had met Stealth before, not Milo though, yet he was still intimidated by Stealths height. Shit, we didn’t clean. We haven’t even finished breakfast. Did you invite them? Why are they here? We didn’t have any time.

“Sorry about the mess, um. We weren’t really expecting you. Glad to see you though.” Cutie smiled at their friend.

You didn’t invite them? What kind of person invites themselves over?

My best friend kind. Geordi be nice.

Sorry.

“Oh it’s not a big deal to us. If you’d like we could leave and come back when ya’llfeel like you’ve cleaned up the place. Although, it looks super clean already. Well compared to how you had it when-” Stealth began to share too much information.

Cutie cleared their throat throwing them a ‘shut the hell up’ look. “No you don’t have to leave. It’s fine. Why’d you come over anyways.” They asked.

Compared to what? Why’d you stop them? What are you hiding you menace? Was it when I was at my sisters?

Shut up Geordi

“Oh honestly we-” Milo cleared His throat, “I- wanted to see ya’ll. Sorry bout Milo, he’s not usually this grumpy. He’s normally a super sweet guy.” They gave him a side glare.

“Not anything against you, you are a great person Cutie.I was just told we were going to the store and going back home. Sorry if it seems I don’t want to be around you.” He apologized.

“It’s okay Milo. Well while youre here you guys want a drink or anything? Wanna play mario cart or something?” At Cuties offer Milo’s eyes lit up.

“Oh hell yeah. I’d love to.”

They all sat on the couch and played marrio cart

[rainneverstopped]

It’s my bday today. I think I started hating this day when I realized I was aging in my early teens and that my needs were not going to be cared for or understood. Time was passing me by in a lot of ways that I didn’t understand, my severe depression caused by neglect amongst who knows what else was making it so that my body and soul aligned less and less, the more I grew up. I hate it even more now. What a stupid reminder of so many things that eat at my mind: my wasted years, lack of fulfilling bonds with people that understand and respect me, lack of joy, insufficient geographical location, an inability to be who I want and need to be. It mostly makes me think of the abandonment I went through and how much I would like to be loved the way I need today. I think the problem is as well that it’s only one day a year and no matter how much I hate it, I know very well it’s the only day that I can influence people into maybe listening to me and the fact that I find myself not being able to, frustrates me even more. Can’t this day be better at least?, not that it ever could since it symbolizes so many things gone bad. I don’t know what I could want for today, I can’t express what I feel without an insurmountable amount of guilt and shame. That’s one of the things I thought today, that I wanted to be honest with people and say what I really thought but there’s no way. I can’t even begin to. The feeling of danger is too great. How I have totally fucked my future over and I how I never felt I could ever do something better. There’s too much to lament and I’m overstimulated by the lists upon lists of things that desperately need my attention that I can barely focus on, let alone attend to. The thoughts pass like whispers of people walking by you outside and I can’t even make them out half the time. All I can feel is dread about them. It didn’t used to be this awful, before I didn’t have the way to frame them as well but they were less and I felt better. I miss that. What a stupid trade that was, I got some knowledge of things I cannot undo and gave away my peace of mind. Anyway, I’m sad. There’s barely any food but I can’t seem to bring myself to go to the supermarket and there are ants all over everything because I can’t clean. I’m not mentally well enough. Some people are coming later and I really don’t want them to, why is it so hard to sit with me and ask me what I need and why?. They had more years that I allow myself to admit half the time to learn that I don’t want smiles and chit chat on this day. I want to talk about my grief and be looked after. Why do I have to have a mentally healthy celebration when I’m everything but?. It doesn’t match. I keep trying to daydream about what I would prefer. This year my mental health has worsened a lot, I don’t want to send the message that it’s ok by celebrating. I don’t want a normal bday, I want them to know I’m not happy. I’m so easy to ignore. This day tells me my needs, characteristics, individuality and preferences matter not. I feel alone. Why can’t we have the kind of bond where we ask, learn, love and respect?. I don’t know what I want to say and it feels like I’m leaving something out, I have a little access to my thoughts before I go dead again and I feel this is not descriptive enough. I hate that the gates of my mind close and open without my knowledge. What do I want to say?. I’m miserable. I suppose that about sums it up. If only I could be smart enough to define it.

[bonbon-bonny]

It is easier for a poor man to get into Heaven than a rich one.

This line has been running around in my head since last Sunday at church. It sounds a little cliche doesn't it? Because I think most of us know that we certainly can't take any of our things with us when we die anyway, but still, it's easy to forget that. Especially when so much of our everyday lives are filled with the urge to buy, buy, buy.

But it isn't just about that is it?

I have been to Prague, Venice, Berlin, Leipzig, and frequently took vacations to resorts while I was with my Ex-husband. I had an allowance that allowed me to work on my projects and buy myself pretty much anything I wanted without having to work for it. However, after a while you start realizing that no matter where you go, no matter what you buy, if you're not happy with your partner stuff just won't fix that. If you're not happy with yourself, more things aren't going to magically make that feeling disappear.

I traded my happiness for someone else to take care of me, and maybe if they had been the right person for me that would have been okay; but ultimately they weren't and I sacrificed my authenticity. I put on a mask so I could be whoever they wanted me to be to try and make it work.

But one day something woke me up. I realized even if I had everything I wanted, I still wasn't happy, and my ex-husband didn't want me as myself. He probably hoped with enough time I would eventually just turn into whoever he thought he could make me instead of loving me as who I am. Well, my mask came off, and as hard as I tried to ignore it, I just couldn't go back.

five years is a long time to be married folks, but if after five years you don't even feel like you're in a marriage anymore and it's just you trying to make yourself feel better when everything else feels so sucky it's just not worth staying in.

I might not have a lot of money at the moment, but I certainly have talent and determination. Heck, I will probably just continue on with my projects solo for the time being if I can't afford to pay people to work on them for me.

Ultimately, I decided despite how difficult it was to walk away from everything that brought me comfort and security, I decided I valued my authenticity and happiness more than I valued my stuff.

So, to anyone who has ever felt like this or might be going through something similar, I'm here to tell you it isn't impossible. And I wouldn't say that unless I had gone through it myself.

Give me the man who values his HAPPINESS more than anything else in the world. The man who is STRONG enough to walk away from any situation that makes him feel any less than who he really is. the man who RESPECTS himself enough to simply be him instead of trying to be someone different for anyone.

I will happily work alongside anyone who values the same things I do, and we can build an empire together from the ground up.

[thelostdisaster82]

If a man would live in a man who is in the military house with that man’s wife …that man’s thought to be kids as if it was somehow acceptable. Sneaking n lying to a innocent person who probably at one time was a really good person to find out not only his wife was cheating but the children he has begun to raise weren’t in fact even his! And wonder why on earth I would ever think u would do the same thing to me? Just bcuz I’ve raised ur children 12 doesn’t mean crap while she ran around popping kids out how many 14-16 now I lost count��..shooting up H and whatever else she could get her hands on…hasn’t been here one holiday or birthday or school activity for 12 years….yet do I believe u have her in my house..yes why? Bcuz I aim no one to u . Ur actions speak louder than any words could possibly say! U say u love me but I’m all reality u don’t…u just use me till there nothing more I can given I’ve bent over backwards to make these children good kids respectable adults and to keep u outta prison to make this house n everything in it home! But it hasn’t been home for year now. Random womens nasty crotches panties and stretched out bras I’ve continuously finding. Knowing they’re not mine or my girls ..hell not even his sister or moms….No one’s I even would know…but in my heart I know! What kind of person forgives a woman who walked away fm her kids to get high…while pregnant by the dealer baby still using…finally gets clean 6 months and went to prison should have came to look for her babies instead stacked her link card for 6 months to trade for some beans! Sickening honestly…how do u tell ur children they have 14-16 brothers n sisters out there all born addicted to H? How do u tell them that they were the lucky 3 that found a forever home and have always been loved! Somethings u just can’t say…i would have taken all of them thru Dcfs but u refused didn’t want to raise someone else’s kid…but how big of a good were u? No matter what they were part of ur kids..they were just babies…never asked to come into this world let alone addicted and unloved! i do not understand people let alone people like u….at one time I thought u we’re different u were wonderful but u r a spoiled selfish individual. 12 years of mental abuse …physical and just the tormented bullshit… to the point I got reactive abuse…fight or flight…I choose to fight bcuz I always have to defend myself with u. Physical goes away only hurts for a second but the mental…it lasts forever like a broken record on repeat. U start to doubt urself and if ur even good enough ..somedays I beg to go to bed n never wake up but others seem ok. The manipulation…I’m crazy I need medication I need mental help…after a while u start believing it….how can someone be like that to make people hate themselves. Tell me kids don’t want me here or I’m mean of I’m risk for kids to be around. In all reality…u r and she is! my reactions come from u…no one sees what u say only what I say or do…so then it looks like me. U put me here …all air out of my tires….not a dollar to my name. No family to call . No friends to call. I trust no one. My most meaningful conversations are with my dogs. U allow her to steal from me on a daily. U think I owe u something…yet u won’t tel me what. U forget my bday n holidays and for Mother’s Day while u forget me u remind me to get for the neighbor….my tire needed changed but was an inconvenience for u. The neighbor needed new tire not only did u give her mine u changed it from rim to rim to put on her suv. U open door for others while u slam doors on me. U throw my daughter hating me in my face bcuz I rises these three kids…everything I’ve ever told u ..u used against me. U sold my wedding ring for $20. Or was u the one who stole pawn receipt so u can get out n give to someone else? Why? From day one I did what u told me to help u get kids back and for years during winter I’d work two jobs to carry us cuz u were laid off. I’ve cooked cleaned done laundry took care of dogs and doctor’s appointments and parent teacher conferences. To be called names by ur mom

[nosuchthingasagruffalo]

chapter 8

Charlotte had settled into her role on The Essex, she reported to the Chief Tactical Officer and had been able to attend trade talks with the people of the Q'nar sector. She still felt nervous when speaking to Captain Abioye and had promised heself she would speak up in the next meeting. She had a full day off and was just settling down with her latest must read - 'Multiphasic Shield Harmonics' when she saw a message flash on her Padd summoning her to the holodeck.

Seven of Nine had set up a programme running a simulation of her Aunt's lake house in Denmark, she hadn't stayed true to geography and had programmed the Copenhagen waterfront to be a ten kilometre hike away and she enjoyed sitting in her favourite restaurant with a cold beer after the long hike. She was so lost in thought she didn't notice the young woman stood in front of her, "Commander you summoned me?".

"It's ok Lottie, we're off duty now. Don't be so stiff, sit, woukd you like a lemonade?" Seven studied the Ensign before her. It occured to her how strange it was that humans take 18 whole years to reach maturity yet the past 21 years of watching the pudgy baby transform into an independent, challenging woman in what seemed to be the blink of an eye. "I'll get straight to the point seeing as small talk seems perfunctury given our relationship. I'm worried about you, you're putting far too much pressure on yourself, you're working too long past your ships and with your brother still missing I'm concerned for your mental wellbeing. I will put you on medical leave should the situation require it". She watched the blue eyes before her cloud into a grey storm "I can't let that happen to you, I've watched you grow up from day 1, hell I've grown and learned alongside you, so you see, I'm not just a concerned commander, this is personal"

Charlotte fought back the tears threatening to fall "oh Aunty Seven, I'm sorry, I just feel like I can't concentrate and then my work is sub par. This is supposed to be everything I've wanted and I just feel so flat, everytime I start to feel happy I remember Amal is still out there"

Seven placed her hand over Charlotte's "I know how you feel, when Icheb died I felt real loss for the first time and it scared me, having feelings I couldn't control, me of all people!" She smiled. "You know you're not just a god-daughter to me, you're my sister, in those early days back on earth when I couldn't face the reality of my Aunt and cousins, When Kathryn let me stay with her as long as I needed, the camp bed in your nursery. And you crying allllll night, I still maintain Borg children are much less terrifying. I remember when I took you to the funfair and you broke your arm climbing the helter skelter, I was terrified to bring you home, not just for your mother's reaction but because I had allowed pain to come to the thing that is most precious to me"

Charlotte smiled "I do remember that camp bed coming out a lot of times over the years, making you scare me with stories of dangerous alien races. I'm glad we shared that. Wasn't it ever a bit weird though? You know you and Dad?"

Seven had to surpress a laugh, "not at all, once we were back on earth I realised I respected and admired your father but didn't want to continue our dates. It did take me a while to realise the main reason that I didn't want to continue our dates was that he was entirely the wrong sex. I wish I had figured that out a little sooner" she smiled. "I often wonder what life was like for the other me, was I happy with your Dad? Probably, was I fulfilled? Probably not, I imagine it remained entirely platonic, bound together by the pain your mother had inadvertently caused us and then by the trauma of your loss. Your Mom used to be a lot less burdened you know."

charlotte sighed "I'm starting to see a little of it now. Dad said I should contact my Animal Guide but more and more I find myself in prayer. It's stupid right? I'm a scientist, our family barely observes the traditional holidays, logically it's nothing more than meditation but I keep coming back to it. Can you believe it, talking to a God who doesn't exist? Pretty irrelevant huh?"

Seven leaned closer to Charlotte "the Borg find religion a futile attempt by inferior beings to understand their own small singular existence... but they feel the same way about love too"

Before Charlotte could respond the holodeck timer went off. "Our time has ended. See you on the gamma shift Ensign".

*****

After their talk Charlotte didn't see much of the Commander. She did manage to speak up some ideas to Capatin Abioye, but she couldn't read whether his stern expression conveyed annoyance or praise. At her station she went through official communiques and logged them. There were some strange messages that seemed to be mangled and she saved them to her Padd to analyse later.

Today had been a long day of back and forth with the Q'nar Trevel who were suspicious of all outside races. A large ship had materlialised out of nowhere and struck a direct hit, the ship was on red alert. Charlotte performed sweeps of the region and saw a smaller ship approaching at speed. No sooner had she alerted the Captain when two aliens beamed on board, the pilot was shot immediately and the alien lifted his weapon at the Captain. Without a hesitstion Seven threw herself in the line of fire and Charlotte tackled him to the floor, two burly security officers grabbed the alien and cuffed his hands. "Commander, are you ok?" Charlotte could see Seven bleeding.

"We must restrain the other alien" Seven shouted. The alien had pushed into the turbolift and was heading to engineering. Quickly Charlotte disabled all the turbolifts and headed for a jefferies tube to intercept him with Seven hobbling behind her.

The tubes smelled of smoke and burning gel packs as the Essex was pummelled, Seven's superior eyesight led the way and Charlotte hoped they would make it before the bleeding got worse. The panel into engineering was jammed in place and it took both women to kick it open. The alien was attaching small explosoves to the warp core. Charlotte grabbed a phaser and aimed, she had practised a lot at The Academy and knew she needed to hit the alien's hand before he set them off. As the alien lifted his arm to detonate the charges Charlotte aimed and blew it clean off, Seven checked the wounded, and opened the main doors allowing the security team to run in and apprehend the alien. She felt the impulse engines kicking in and hoped they could get far enough through the system to avoid another attack. Relief flooded her as she saw the lights change from red to yellow and she hurried to Seven to request a beam to sickbay.

[necromancelena]

I'll have you know you're feeling self obsessed and extra cute and sexy and smart and funny and hot because you vampire sucked my self esteem away. But don't feel bad, I wasn't using it, because I am none of those things.

I'm technically more succubus adjacent than vampire adjacent, but also I will let you in on a little trade secret.

Being smart? it's not a thing that someone 'is' or 'isn't', intelligence as a concept is purely fictitious and built on cultural biases. the only thing you need to be smart is to have a topic you're interested in (literally anything) and let yourself indulge in it, and eventually maybe even work up the courage to talk about it.

Being funny? Everyone is funny. If you find that you're not making people laugh it's either because those people have a sense of humour different from yours and eventually you will find a group that lines up better, or you haven't built the confidence and rapport to crack a lot of jokes yet. no one is born funny or unfunny, it's a learned skill that by and large is in the eyes of the audience more so than in the hands of the person being funny

Being hot, sexy, cute, etc? personally I find that that can be the hardest one to get over and build confidence on but like. no one is ugly. and generally speaking it's probably more important to focus on body neutrality than going for an 'everyone is beautiful' angle, I recognize that, but honestly I also feel like it's super important to mention that there IS no quantifiable standard for beauty. The shitty western standard is already so narrow and disconnected from what anyone actually sees in the people they like, and it's made even more unattainable by shifting all over the place every couple of years. I guarantee that someone will look at you and be floored by how beautiful you are to them, if there isn't someone that does that already. Allowing yourself some self respect is basically the hottest thing you can do, and even when that's not possible, allowing yourself to know that you are worthy of respect and love regardless of how you feel about your body will do you a world of good

With that said, I have also felt like how you expressed to me, basically every cruel thing you can think of a person is something that I have though myself, and I also know that in all likelihood these words probably aren't going to really sink in or like, make you start being confident and kinder to yourself because there's not a single person on this planet that that would happen to. it's all growth and healing and it takes a lot of time. I also know that there's a high chance that everything I've said is something that you already know on a logical level but still can't catch up on emotionally, which probably makes this come across as a little annoying. But I'm not the only one that thinks this way, and you're going to hear all that again from others, and sooner or later it's gonna sink in whether you like it or not. I prommy.

[cqlfeels]

@lansplaining encouraged me to finish this random meta nobody asked for, so let's talk about Meng Yao, Meng Shi, and 孟母三遷 (mèng mǔ sān qiān), a proverb about good parenting.

A warning: this is super long (even for me!) and is less quality meta and more my ADHD brain jumping around a maze of loosely related ideas. Proceed with caution!

Let me start by briefly going through why I decided to write this, because it’s important. In haunting Meng Shi’s tag in my starvation for Meng Shi content, I’ve multiple times come across the idea that Meng Shi pushed Meng Yao too hard, that she should’ve been more careful with teaching him to seek his father’s approval at any cost, and that she was too naïve. I’ve never reblogged this kind of post because 1) I personally think it’s rude to go out of your way to ramble about how much you disagree with someone on their own post and 2) if this was an isolated incident I wouldn't care either way, so I didn’t want to direct this rant at anyone in particular. It’s more to do with a tendency, primarily (as far as I can tell) from fans who haven’t had much contact with Chinese culture, to oversimplify Meng Shi and make her relationship with Meng Yao slightly disturbing, and I think part of it is due to CQL basically cutting out her entire storyline (so fans simply don’t have info about her to assess her fairly) and part is due to misunderstanding what a good parent is supposed to act like in the context of Ancient China.

[Of course, Ancient China is not a very useful historical concept, not any more than “ye olde Europe” - things change a lot based on time and place - but you know. It’s fantasy. Extremely broad trends are okay in this case.]

Anyway, the idea behind the posts I mentioned is, basically, that Meng Shi (usually through no fault of her own) is to blame for Meng Yao’s obsession with power, since his desire for approval was inherited from lessons she taught him. Just to start with, I’d argue that Meng Yao isn’t power-hungry as much as he craves security and respect, but that’s a different meta. Let’s assume that she really did teach him to be Like That. Was she wrong to do so? I’m not looking for “does that make for a happy, well-adjusted childhood?” or “would you raise your own son as Meng Shi did?” - I’m trying to figure out, would she have been considered a bad mother in the context of the society she lived in? I don’t think she would’ve.

It is surprisingly hard to find texts about the obligations of parents in Ancient China. Their main obligation is to raise filial children, but I feel like that’s not very useful: whether or not parents are good parents, children are expected to be filial, so a child being filial really says more about the child than about the parent. Maybe the parent completely missed the mark and society at large was what taught the child to be filial!

We can assume, of course, that parents were to raise good people, and that by learning what a good person looked like, we could figure out whether the parent was successful, but once again, I feel like that’s pinning things on the outcome, not on the process - the best of parents can end up with an awful kid and vice versa.

While thinking about all this, it took me a frankly embarrassing amount of time to remember the story of Mother Meng and Meng Zi, but once I did, it wouldn’t leave my mind - in part because the Meng here is the exact same Meng of Meng Shi and Meng Yao (yay! fun if useless parallel!), and in part because this is a story about how a woman can successfully raise a son by herself.

Okay, so important note: one of the most influential ancient Chinese thinkers is Meng Zi (孟子 Mèng Zǐ), who is known in the West as Mencius. If you've never heard of him - he's perhaps second in importance only to Confucius. When Mencius was still a young child, his father died, so he was raised by his mother, who is usually known only as Mother Meng (in Chinese, 孟母 Mèng Mǔ.)

Mother Meng's story is told in Biographies of Exemplary Women (列女傳 Liènǚ Zhuàn), which for around 2000 years beginning around the 18th century BCE, was the most commonly used book used to educate women. The book is divided into sections, each one showing a different way women could be honorable and good. Mother Meng's story is told in the Maternal Models section (母儀傳 Mǔ Yí Zhuàn.) The story has a few parts, some of which I'll quote, always from Kinney's 2014 translation.

Before I go on to quote it, though, I'd like to establish that Mother Meng's story is so, so famous that even if Meng Shi had never read this particular book, I'm almost certain she would've been familiar with at least the outlines of Mother Meng's story. I'm not cherry picking a suitable chapter from the book, I'm literally going with the most famous story in it because Meng Shi would be most likely to know this one if she knew no other story.

Okay, the first part of the tale takes place when Mencius is a young boy and Mother Meng is a widow raising him.

The mother of Meng Ke of Zou [a different name for Mencius] was called Mother Meng. She lived near a graveyard. During Mencius’ youth, he enjoyed playing among the tombs, romping about pretending to prepare the ground for burials. Mother Meng said, “This is not the place to raise my son.” She therefore moved away and settled beside the marketplace. But there he liked to play at displaying and selling wares like a merchant. Again Mother Meng said, “This is not the place to raise my son,” and once more left and settled beside a school. There, however, he played at setting out sacrificial vessels, bowing, yielding, entering, and withdrawing. His mother said, “This, indeed, is where I can raise my son!” and settled there. When Mencius grew up, he studied the Six Arts, and finally became known as a great classicist. A man of discernment would say, “Mother Meng was good at gradual transformation.”

According to the translator's footnote, "gradual transformation" is "a childrearing technique, whereby a child is morally formed through daily exposure to correct models of behavior."

From this story comes the proverb 孟母三遷 (Mèng Mǔ sān qiān) - "Mother Meng moved three times." It's come to mean that a parent - especially the mother of a male child - should spare no efforts to provide an environment that will give their child a good education, paying particular attention to what models are surrounding them.

I'm sure I don't need to say if Meng Shi was at all familiar with this proverb (and she would probably be), she must have been very stressed out over literally raising her son in a brothel. (Here I must mention sex workers in ancient China were often essentially owned by the brothels, so literally "moving three times" wasn't really an option for Meng Shi even if she could miraculously pick up another trade.) Meng Shi did however at least try to surround Meng Yao with the accomplishments appropriate for the son of a cultivator:

Xiao-Meng, are you still learning those things lately? [...] The things your mom wants you to learn, things like calligraphy, etiquette, swordsmanship, meditation… How are those things going? [...] His mom’s raising him as a young master of a wealthy family. She taught him how to read and write, bought him all those swordsmanship pamphlets, and even wants to send him to school.

Meng Yao actually talks a little bit about “those swordsmanship pamphlets” in the only time in canon he directly shares memories about this mother:

Lan XiChen, “Your [guqin] skills are also considered quite fine outside of Gusu. Were they taught by your mother?”

Jin GuangYao, “No. I taught myself by watching others. She never taught me such things. She only taught me reading and writing, and bought a handful of expensive sword and cultivation guides for me to practice.”

Lan XiChen seemed surprised, “Sword and cultivation guides?”

Jin GuangYao, “Brother, you haven’t seen them before, have you? Those small booklets sold by the common folk. First jumbled sketches of human figures, then deliberately mystified captions.”

Lan XiChen shook his head, smiling. Jin GuangYao shook his head as well, “All of them are scams, especially to fool women like my mother and ignorant children. You won’t lose anything by practicing them, but you definitely won’t gain anything either.”

He sighed in a rueful way, “But how could my mother have known this? She bought them no matter how expensive they were, saying that if I returned to see my father in the future, I had to see him with as much competence as possible so that I don’t fall behind. All of the money was spent on this.”

See what’s happening? Meng Shi cannot physically take Meng Yao to cultivators, but she spares no efforts in giving him the closest thing she possibly can -- figuratively, we might say she moved three times.

Of course, these booklets don’t work, but as Meng Yao says, how could she have known this? The cultivation world is very closed off - think of how the entire Mo household gathers to see Lan juniors, and how Wei Wuxian mentions once that “Cultivation families, in the eyes of common folk, are like people favored by God, mysterious yet noble.” Not just noble, but mysterious. That tracks, too - I mean, they live in inaccessible households and mostly leave to night hunt or visit each other, neither of which is an activity that would allow commoners to get much more than an occasional glimpse of them.

Now, if Meng Shi doesn’t even know that a pearl for Jin Guangshan was just a trinket, if she doesn’t know even the wealth of a major sect, how can she read booklets and decide whether that’s genuine cultivation or not? All that she sees is a chance for Meng Yao to be surrounded by the ideas and skills of the people she wants him to emulate - cultivators - and therefore she does everything she can to get him that chance. Mother Meng moved three times.

Okay, but maybe the argument is not “Meng Shi shouldn’t have pushed Meng Yao to cultivation” but rather “she should’ve pushed him, just not too hard." To that, I present another tale from Mencius' childhood:

Once, when Mencius was young, he returned home after finishing his lessons and found his mother spinning. She asked him, “How far did you get in your studies today?” Mencius replied, “I’m in about the same place as I was before.” Mother Meng thereupon took up a knife and cut her weaving. Mencius was alarmed and asked her to explain. Mother Meng said, “Your abandoning your study is like my cutting this weaving. A man of discernment studies in order to establish a name and inquires to become broadly knowledgeable. By this means, when he is at rest, he can maintain tranquility and when he is active, he can keep trouble at a distance. If now you abandon your studies, you will not escape a life of menial servitude and will lack the means to keep yourself from misfortune. How is this different from weaving and spinning to eat? If one abandons these tasks midway, how can one clothe one’s husband and child and avoid being perpetually short of food? If a woman abandons that with which she nourishes others and a man is careless about cultivating his virtue, if they don’t become brigands or thieves, then they will end up as slaves or servants.” Mencius was afraid. Morning and evening he studied hard without ceasing. He served Zisi [a great scholar whose grandfather was Confucius] as his teacher and then became one of the most renowned classicists in the world.

Notice that Mother Meng moved three times to ensure Mencius would have the highest of aspirations - to become a scholar. But just aspiration isn’t enough. Not by any means. Now that Mencius is actually studying, Mother Meng is willing to take an extreme action to ensure he's taking it seriously. Mencius doesn't have a father to smooth his path to success. He has to learn that aspiring to greatness isn't enough. He'll have to put in the effort as if his life depended on it. And if he doesn't persist in his hard work, everything he's done thus far will be useless. Sounds like a lesson imparted on young Meng Yao, doesn’t it?

A lot of fandom rage towards Meng Shi would apply to China's Best Mom Contender, Mother Meng. She gives her son big dreams, and teaches him how to go about achieving them in a society where failing is easier than succeeding. Yes, it's fair to say that Meng Shi taught Meng Yao to refuse to settle for anything less than being “Jin Guangshan's son, a respected cultivator.” Yes, it's also fair to say that she probably didn't allow him much time to play like children his age did. But unfortunately, in the world of MDZS, poor children probably wouldn't get to play anyhow, the difference is that they'd usually be working, not studying. Studying is a privilege! It’s a privilege Meng Yao could not afford but was given to him anyway, through his mother’s many sacrifices. We can even say that while she was alive, Meng Shi was trying to ensure Meng Yao would one day have a better life, at the expense of a fun childhood - and that's very Mother Meng of her, whatever our modern Western sensibilities might have to say about that.

Finally, I’d skip other tales (which show Mother Meng and an adult Mencius) and go straight to the poem that ends the Mother Meng section:

The mother of Mencius

Was able to teach, transform, judge, and discriminate.

With skill she selected a place to raise her son,

Prompting him to accord with the great principles.

When her son’s studies did not advance,

She cut her weaving to illustrate her point.

Her son then perfected his virtue;

His achievements rank as the crowning glory of his generation.

I’d like to focus on the last verse - “His achievements rank as the crowning glory of his generation.” All that Mother Meng wanted was for Mencius to not completely ruin his life, but he became great. You can so very easily see a parallel with how Meng Shi hoped Meng Yao would be a cultivator but he became Jin Guangyao, Chief Cultivator, styled Lianfang-zun, one of the Three Venerable, hero of the Sunshot Campaign.

Of course you can say “Jin Guangyao did many Very Wrong Things to get there, though!” Which, sure, okay, fair point. How many and how wrong depends on which canon we're discussing, and your own interpretation, but there’s no version of the story in which Jin Guangyao is 100% an innocent child uwu. But blaming that on Meng Shi is just... straight up weird? I don’t see anyone going “If Jiang Fengmian hadn’t adopted Wei Wuxian, he’d never have dared become Yiling Laozu!” and that’s pretty much the same logic. Would street kid Wei Wuxian have invented a new type of cultivation if he had never been taken in by the Jiang? Probably not, but raising undead armies is very much not something Jiang Fengmian could’ve predicted. In the same way, how could Meng Shi have predicted that teaching her pre-adolescent son “You are the son of a cultivator, act like one and earn your place in society” would’ve ultimately resulted in innocent deaths? How could she predict “You’re not destined to having the same horrible life I did, you can get something better than this” was a bad thing to teach? I quite honestly don’t know.

Finally, I'd like to point towards a much flimsier evidence that Meng Shi did great as a parent. And that is Meng Yao’s love. Nie Huaisang at some point comments Meng Shi is someone who Meng Yao "cherishes more than his life," and I think his assessment is correct.

Even putting aside the fact he built a whole temple to get his mother to reincarnate into a better life, and even putting aside how he refuses to flee the country without her remains, there's still crystal clear evidence that Meng Shi must've done something right. Because a lifetime of people using his mother to bully him doesn't seem to have made Meng Yao resent her. Had their relationship not have been very strong, odds are he'd feel bitter and/or ashamed of her. That doesn't seem to be the case. He's attached to her even decades after her death.

I want to be very careful with equating mutual affection with good parenting, though. When I was a rather rebellious teenager, my mother (in typical Chinese fashion) used to say that parents and children don't have to love each other as long as they're dutiful to each other, by which she meant that a parent-child relationship isn't informed by warm and fuzzy feelings, but by whether you'd be willing to do anything for each other. Specific to my case, she meant "I don't care if it makes you hate me, you will do as you're told because that's what's best for you." (That may also be the reason why people more familiar with Chinese culture see the Jiang family less as outright abusive and more as #complicated, but that's another meta.)

Whether your kid wants to hug you every time they see you is of no consequence to traditional Chinese thought - raising them to be the best they can is all that matters, because at the end of the day, you won't be around forever, but you can definitely set up your kid's life so that it goes smoothly and virtuously. How that's accomplished varies depending on many factors, but to have the goal be "I want my child to love me" rather than "I want to raise my child right" would've been considered selfish as hell.

So even if all that Meng Shi had given Meng Yao had been stern lessons about the need to go get his birthright, she would've still have been considered a good mother!! In fact, she would've been doing everything she was supposed to do, under extremely difficult conditions! (Remember the importance of environment? That Meng Yao grew up to want to be a cultivator despite having probably never even met one speaks wonders about Meng Shi's childrearing powers!!)

But just based off how over the top Meng Yao's filal dutifulness is, I'd go a step further and say that even as she did the impossible, she was also loving enough to inspire genuine affection. This is complicated because children who have present fathers could expect their mothers to be tender with them. The first century BCE text 禮記 Lǐ Jì or The Classic of Rites says that:

Here now is the affection of a father for his sons - he loves the worthy among them, and places on a lower level those who do not show ability; but that of a mother for them is such, that while she loves the worthy, she pities those who do not show ability - the mother deals with them on the ground of affection and not of showing them honour; the father, on the ground of showing them honour and not of affection.

But when the father figure is lacking for any reason, the mother must abandon her tenderness because someone must guide the child, and without a father, the role falls to the mother. A single or widowed mother had to be very careful to not smother their children with affection and raise useless, spoiled kids, or so it was thought. (The presence of Qingheng-jun and Lan Qiren is why Madame Lan can be so affectionate with the Lan boys, by the way - if she was raising them by herself she would've been expected to be much more practical. AUs where she just gets her kids and runs away could do very cool things with this idea. But I digress!)

Where was I? Oh, okay. Because Meng Yao seems to not just respect, but actively miss her, it seems that Meng Shi somehow managed to deal with her son on the ground of both honor and affection, to paraphrase.

So basically, all things considered, it seems not only would Meng Shi have been considered a great mom (if people could look past her being a prostitute, anyway) but she also went above and beyond the bare minimum. She truly spared no efforts on any front to make sure her son had everything your average gongzi would have - someone to teach him and someone to love him, access to education and confidence in his birthright. That she couldn't actually make him a cultivator, that she couldn't actually raise him in a proper home with no one being cruel to herself or him - that's immaterial. Even Mother Meng couldn't control what her neighbors did, only what she taught her son! The key point is Meng Shi tried. She did everything she could to educate her son right. You couldn't ask more of her, and quite honestly, you should probably be asking less.

Of course we can't err on the other extreme and say she was Perfect. Given MXTX only ever writes flawed characters, we can safely assume that if we'd known more about Meng Shi, we would've seen many flaws. Indeed, just the fact she didn't teach Meng Yao the guqin when he apparently wanted to learn it might point to some conflict we don't know enough to speculate about (maybe she focused too much on cultivation when Meng Yao's interests lay elsewhere? Maybe she wasn't able to sufficiently shelter him and he felt it'd be a burden to ask her to teach him anything? Maybe maybe maybe, go wild with your fics.) Nevertheless, I would never hold a female character to a higher ideal than a male character - if the male cast of MDZS can be a hot mess and still be admirable for what they're trying to do, then so can Meng Shi.

At the end of the day, when I look at Meng Shi - and I've made myself a document with all the references to her in the novel canon so I could easily contemplate her life and character - all I see is a woman every bit as determined and resourceful as her son, willing to do everything it took to raise her little boy into the sophisticated and ambitious man he became.

Finally, here's a fun little parallel that I'm 100% sure was unintentional but I still love. I said Meng Shi couldn't have moved three times. She couldn't, but I think maybe she taught her son he was worth moving three times for. Qinghe Nie. Qishan Wen. Lanling Jin. Isn't that super fun to think about?

Alternatively, tl;dr: Oh My God I Can't Believe We're Blaming Women For The Actions Of Their Adult Children In The Year Of Our Lord 2k21, Meng Shi Was Doing Her Best, Chill!

[cuddlesslut]

Memories

Part three to Home

Suna x fem reader

Atsumu x fem reader

Tags: still angst, light fluff, just a lot of Suna simping.

AN// let me know if you want me to continue the story.

Part Two: Silence

Part Four: Chance Encounters

You were the most beautiful girl Suna had ever seen. When he saw you that first day of school it was like the clouds in his normally dreary day parted and he could feel the sun. You weren’t in the same class much to his dismay. That didn’t stop the middle blocker from searching for your face in the crowds of the halls or the cafeteria. Though it was rare he stilled catch some glimpses. In those moments a war waged in his mind part of him wanted to go introduce himself, he wanted to know your name. To just be around you. But another side of his brain forbid that. Stating that he was fine were he was he would just interrupt your day. What would he even say to you. Hi I’m Suna I’ve been watching you since the first and even though I know next to nothing about you I can’t get you out of my head..... yeah no. He’d just sit back and wait for opportunity to knock. Suna curses himself for his laziness. He can’t describe how his heart stop the day his friend brought you to practice and introduce you as his girlfriend.

Though he kept his composure he felt as though the air was stolen from his lungs. This is the closesest he had ever to been to you and it was overwhelming to say the least. You stood there at Atsumu’s side smiling and greeting the team memebers and when your attention drew to Suna he realized his favorite thing about you was your eyes. You beautiful (e/c) eyes shown with so much light and happiness. When you smiled you smiled with your eyes, always getting this cute little crinkle. He shook his head at these feelings. You were taken and by one of his friends no less.

From that moment on you presence was always close by joining the boys for lunch or stopping by practice with little snacks you had made the team. Suna almost resents how easy he gets along with you. How simple it is to fall into a banter with you. He hates how calming it is when you’d sit next to him and laugh as you showed him some meme. He wanted to be annoyed with you ever time you’d put your foot down and insist he let you wrap his finger after a bad block. But he couldn’t you were just such a caring person. He’d try and give you some petty insults, maybe if he caused a rift between the two of you he’d feel better, maybe then if there was more space between you he’d feel less guilty for always being enraptured by you. But you’d always snap back with something just as clever or petty. You could go toe to toe in trading insults but both of you knew neither of you meant it. You’d always break out into that breathtaking smile after a few rounds of back and forth. He realized soon that he’d much rather keep you in his life as a friend even if he could never have you because at least he’d still see that smile. At least as your best friend he’d still see your eyes shine bright and he could take a small pleasure in knowing he brought some of that happiness.

“You need to calm down,” Suna turned to see Osamu taking the seat on the bench next to him.

Suna's hands run through his hair gripping the roots in frustration as he let out a yell.

“How the fuck am I supposed to be calm, she could be hurt or missing, and that ass is just sitting there! Two weeks! Lord knows what could have happened by now.” Hes shaking part of him wants to go back up and give Atsumu a few more licks but he knows no good will come from it.

“YN is a grown woman and she’s smart and strong and you know damn well she’d bitch you out right now for thinking she couldn’t handle herself,” the former ace chuckled.

“I’d much rather her here bitching cause at least then she’d be here,” he groaned rubbing his hand down his legs trying to let out some of his nerves. “Did you know?” He asked the grey haired twin.

Samu gave his quick glare of offense. “Absolutely not believe me if I’d known I would have been the one to deck him , you just beat me to it.”

“The last i heard from her was her birthday, maybe if I’d had stopped by and brought the Onigiri myself I could have been there for her,” he sighs.

“We’ll find her don’t worry,” his friend pats his back, “and then you can finally confess,”he smiles.

“I’m that obvious huh,” he sighed.

Samu let a loud laugh “ OH PLEASE we all knew, well maybe not YN she can be kinda blind ya’know,”

Suna shook his head laughing. He has to see you.

They returned home today from nationals. The loss to Karasuno was really starting to sink in now that was Suna was home sitting in his room alone the house quiet. He laid there berating himself for balls he failed to block. If I had just done better maybe my team would still be playing. Maybe - he was disrupted from his thoughts by the chime of the door bell. His parents were out of town this weekend. They had assumed like many Inarizaki would still be out in Tokyo fighting for first place. It was fine though Suna was used to being alone. But that just confused him more as he made his way to the door. Who could possibly be here. All he can say is he’d never except to open the door and see you standing there. Like always you stole his breath away.

“What yer not gunna let me in,” you teased “and to think I brought you snacks!” He just realized now she was carrying a grocery bag that looked pretty heavy.

“Give me that ya Dummy,” he said taking away the snacks, he stepped to the side allowing her entry.

“I figured you were hungry, but try to save me some,” she giggled. Suna just rolled his eyes as she took a seat on his couch.

“What are you doing here?” He questioned taking his seat beside her making sure to leave a respectable distance. Though he wants nothing more than to hold you close. He dismisses the thought as he rummages threw the goodies waiting for your response. He smiles seeing the package of milk bread you bought. He took it out and tossed it to you knowing it was your favorite. You smile and give a slight nod as a thank you.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to be alone after the game, I know your probably thinking a whole bunch of nonsense right now aren’t ya?” She looked at him with a solem but knowing look. He cursed how well you knew him. Seeing as he had been doing just that before your arrival. His heart squeezed at the thought of you wanting to comfort him. It almost gives him a slight hope. What about Atsumu, he lost that game too.

“Why aren’t you with you boyfriend, he’s probably taking it harder than me,” he asks knowing he might ruin this little fantasy he has here with you. He sees a sad look cross your face at the mention of the setter. It’s not a look Suna wants to keep seeing.

“You’re right about that, Tsmu’s having a tough go of it,” she gave a soft smile. “But he said he didn’t want my pity and asked I leave,” Suna could see your eyes get a little glassy thinking back to the conversation.

“He’s an Ass.” The middle blocker states plainly.

“He’s just got a lot of emotions right now and wants his space, it’s okay.” But Suna can see your hurt. He knows it wont do any good to keep talking about it.

“His loss, now I get all of the snacks,” pulling out a bag of chips. “Want to watch a movie?”

That’s how the evening went the both of you curled up on the couch Suna had brought down some pillows and blankets and he wouldn’t lie he loved seeing you wrapped in his comforter. You went on and on about this anime you started and you nearly died when he agreed to let you show it to him, pumping your fist in the air going off about your favorite character and how he’s totally going to love him. Suna looks over at you and your wearing the biggest smile eyes wide with joy. This is will always be his favorite moment he thinks.

He’s right that moment still sticks out in his mind. He has plenty of great memories but that one right there is his favorite. He’s been thinking back on a lot of his memories of you lately.

It’s been seven months since your birthday and no one in your former circle new anything about where you were. You hadn’t talked to anyone. Your number was no longer in service and all of you socials have gone silent.

After a couple of days of looking for you Suna was ready to go to the Police and report you missing, ready to call every hospital and pray you are safe. At this point that’s all that matters to him. He can’t bare to think about anything bad happening to you but it’s hard to keep his mind out of the dark place. Osamu was the one to stop him. Luckily they had gotten in touch with their former captain and while Kita was sorry to hear about the situation and very disappointed in his junior for his actions. Every one was upset with Atsumu for his actions. Kita was gladly willing to help in the search. Still being in their home town he was able to pay your parents a quick visit. And while he was happy he could inform them both that your parents had heard from you the other day so your fine. That was all your parents could tell him, stating that you had requested to keep your privacy not wanting to talk to anyone. So while they knew the biggest detail they still knew nothing.

It hurt Suna the most. How could you just cut him off like that. You were the most important person to him how could you not know that. He fretted. He knows your hurting but why did you have to cut all of them off most importantly him. Part of him was so incredibly angry how could you not even say goodbye to him. Did his friendship really mean that little to you. But another part of him understood that he couldn’t possibly know what you are going through. All he knew is how much he missed your smiling eyes. He would give everything to see you again.

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[anxious-allie-ren]

A Stroll.

Hello everyone! Sorry this took a little bit. It was an insanely busy week for me. But were here! Sorry this one is a bit short as well. I'd like to think it's short and sweet!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had been waiting for a gentleman caller all week. It came as no surprise that none had shown up. You hadn’t been able to speak to anyone but Lord Hux all evening. The rest of your first ball was spent dancing with him and following your father around to meet some of his other friends. You had hoped that the curly haired man would show. Introductions hadn’t been made, but he certainly made an impression on you from across the ballroom. It seems it wasn’t the same for him.

The mysterious raven haired man never came by either. You weren’t sure if you were upset or thankful for that. His intense stare was intriguing, but scared you. The man was attractive, sure. But many vile men were, so you could not be sure he was good without proper conversation. Of course vile men were unattractive as well. Crooked, rancid, and narcissistic.

A good example of such a man would be Lord Hux. You had been summoned to the sitting room to meet with him by your butler, Peter. It seems you did have at least one caller this week. Sadly, it was the one man you did not want to show.

You made your way into the room quietly. The dress you’re wearing is quite plain in comparison to the ball. Just a simple light blue dress and flats that are easy to move in. You had planned to work in the gardens today, but clearly those plans would have to be pushed back. Your hair and makeup are both undone. You look natural, like yourself.

Lord Hux turns away from the fireplace to face you, a lewd smirk spreading across his face. He walks across the room towards you slowly, failing to hide the way his eyes trail up and down your figure. Your face remains neutral as he approaches you. Lord Hux holds out his hand for yours, giving you a slight bow as he kisses your knuckles. You hold back a shudder and take your hand back as he stands back up.

Hux clears his throat and clasps his hands behind his back, attempting to stand like the gentleman you know he isn’t.

“My lady, I came here today to call upon you. I want to make my intentions with you clear.”

It shouldn’t have shocked you. A man looking to call upon you would come to your home about this time of day. Your father introduced you both, so it's safe to assume this man had intentions from the first interaction.

“Oh, alright then Lord Hux. What exactly would they be?”

Lord Hux chuckles and runs a hand over his jacket, smoothing out the creases.

“To marry you, of course. Before the end of this season I will ask for your hand and we will be wed before the leaves fall.”

He’s sheer confidence shocks you. He is so certain that you’ll not only accept this ridiculous proposal but actually go through with a wedding. You bit your tongue from outwardly chastising him for such arrogance. Instead, you simply nod.

“I can’t say that I will still be available at the end of this season, Lord Hux.”

“We shall see about that, my lady.”

___________________________________

The ton had their next outing in the park a few days later. It was a beautiful day, perfect for a stroll. The flowers are in full bloom, the temperature is warm, and the sky is a pastel blue. You’re once again accompanied on this trip by your father. You were hoping after the last event he’d lose interest and send Jillian along with you. But clearly you couldn’t be so lucky.

You were walking along the path by the lake when you spotted the curly haired man from the ball. He was standing with the same man from the ball. But rather than being in deep conversation, they were laughing. His smile spreads across his face just as the flowers by your side spread from their seeds in the dirt. In that moment, a seed is planted within you. You can’t help the faint smile from gracing your face at the sight.

As you and your father come closer, the men pause their conversation to look up. The moment the curly haired man meets eyes with you heat singes your skin. You suddenly feel too warm in your attire. His gaze never leaves you as he excuses himself from his friend and approaches you.

“Hello miss, allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Poe Dameron.”

His introduction makes you smile. You start to introduce yourself when your father steps in front of you, interrupting the beginnings of a lovely conversation.

“What is your status, young man?”

Lord Poe looks between the to of you, seemingly flustered. He completely forgot to state his status in society during his introduction. Of course, this a large slip up that can cause his value in the ton to plummet. But to you, its endearing. You could tell his place in society was not something he cared about greatly.

Lord Poe pulls himself together and stands just a bit taller, trying to present himself better.

“I am Viscount of Wetyin, your grace,”

You hear the loud sigh your father releases at his response. Of course that wouldn’t be enough for him. You decide to try and take the reins back on the conversation without seeming rude. You step around your father and give Lord Poe a polite smile.

“Hello, Lord Poe. I am Miss Y/F/N, the daughter of the Duke of Selonia.”

Your father takes a step behind you, visibly angry with your interference. If he had it his way, he’d have sent the man running. But you were interested. You’ll be damned if your father runs everything this season. He hasn’t even run his own dukedom for years. The last thing you’ll stand for is him ruining your chances of love for his own selfish needs. Lord Poe smiles down at you, clearly enjoying your defiance. Many other men would take this as a sign of a distasteful woman and leave. But not him. Lord Poe was deeply intrigued and wanted to learn as much as he could about you. He presents his arm to you and moves to stand beside you.

“Would you do me the honor of walking through the park?”

You take his arm, placing your hand between the crease.

“I would love to, Lord Poe.”

“Please, just call me Poe.”

Lord Poe Dameron was born on Yavin to the Viscount and Viscountess of Wetyin. As a child, he explored his lands with his father, learning all about the terrain and plant life that grew there. His mother took control of his education, personally teaching him and ensuring he was doing well in his studies. As he grew, so did the tentions between Yavin and Moraband. Disputes about trade and exports were causing problems between the two countries. These tensions finally snapped after a duke from Yavin was kidnapped and held for ransom. The countries went into a bloody war that lasted for many years. Thousands died in battle. One of those soldiers being the viscount, Poe’s father.

Poe was at the age of seventeen when he died. He was no longer a boy, and was more than ready to take on responsibilities and take his father position. He had served as the viscount for a few years now, too focused on his duties and grief to do much else. It was his mother who finally pushed him to join the ton this season. So, at her request he did so in hopes of finding a wife and settling down. He hoped for happiness and love, like his parents had once had.

You learned much of this as you and Poe strolled up and down the paths in the park. You could relate to him in many ways. Your commonalities bring you comfort. You have really enjoyed his company thus far. He was kind and respectful. Poe always allowed you to speak and listened to your stories so thoroughly. You felt as though he really had interest in your words.

Poe told you about some of his hobbies and you shared yours. He was fascinated by your love of gardening and baking. In his home, those things were done by attendants. He didn’t look down at you for this, rather he found it endearing.

You both spent the whole afternoon together, talking and sharing laughs. A spark had been lit in this interaction. Having to go opposite ways as evening drew near saddened you. But knowing you would see him again at the next even excited you. You went home with a newfound hope for this season.

___________________________________________

After the ball, Kylo had arranged for an estate to be prepared in Corellia for him. Since deciding to join the ton this season, he felt it would be better to stay close by rather than traveling constantly. He hated traveling as it is.

This evening, he was sitting at his desk and looking out at the gardens. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of you since he laid eyes on you. You infiltrator his thoughts. He was enraged by your ability to cloud his mind without even knowing his name.

Kylo had attempted to get some of his duties done since settling at his estate. You had made it nearly impossible for him. This new experience baffled him. He had never been this captivated by another person before. Defeated, Kylo threw down his quill and stood from his desk, walking over to the large windows. He looked out at the different flowers and admired their beauty. They didn’t hold a flame to you, of course. Kylo found himself wondering if you’d like them or not. Which flower may be your favorite. He had so many questions he needed answered.

Kylo planned to go to the next event in hopes of meeting you. He needed to introduce himself. He needed to spend time with you. He needed to know you. This way, he could end this infatuation and get back to what was important.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There we go! Hope that was good and set us up for what's to come next. Any guesses?

Love, Allie

[the-slytherin-writer-12]

Fluffy Cuddles (Harry Potter edition)

Type of writing: Headcanon

A/N

Hello guys. So I need some fluff right now. I’m feeling very lonely bc I’m single. (Before you say something about being an independent woman, when you’ve been single for 15 years and you have no romantic relationships whatsoever, it gets lonely. I am strong. I am independent. But I am almost craving a romantic connection)

So! Here’s a HC for how you cuddle. In some, one of you are gonna have a long/bad day. In others, it’s just gonna be a fluffy lil fic. Also, this is a no Voldy AU.

Masterlist

Harry Potter

House: Gryffindor

For Harry, it had been a long day. Not only was he berated and belittled in Professor Snape in potions, quidditch practice was absolutely horrible. He longed for nothing more than to hug his amazing, beautiful, kind girlfriend.

Telling the Fat Lady the password, he trudged into the Gryffindor common room. He looked around and spotted some familiar h/c hair hanging off a red couch. Letting out a sigh of relief, he walked over to his girlfriend.

Y/N looked up from her book when the light from the fire was taken away. Seeing her tired boyfriend, she set it down and sat up. Harry looked at her tiredly and moved to sit down with her. Y/N’s eyes softened as he plopped down beside her.

“Hey, love,” she spoke softly. Harry leaned his head onto her shoulder and closed his eyes.

“Hi,” he all but whispered. Y/N moved her arm so he could rest his head between her neck and shoulder. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder, running her fingers through his black hair. He moved his arms around her waist, slowly moving his thumb across the exposed skin of her hip.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s been a long day. From Snape to a brutal practice, I’m drained,” he said tiredly, nuzzling into the space between her neck and shoulder. (What is that called?)

“Why don’t we go up to your dorm, and just sleep? I’m getting pretty tired myself,” Y/N suggested. Harry sighed and nodded.

He moaned when she stood up, his head falling back onto the back of the couch. Y/N chuckled and offered her hand.

“Come on, love.”

Harry took her hand and allowed her to lead him upstairs to the boys’ dorms. Luckily, all of the other boys were either with their respective girlfriends, or out with friends.

Once inside, she gently undressed Harry and put him into some sweats and and band tshirt.

By the time Y/N had changed Harry and put everything up, Harry was leaning against the bed post. Y/N pouted and went up to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck which caused him to open his emerald eyes.

“Can you just hold me?” He asked in a small voice. Y/N almost melted.

“Of course.”

She let go of him and climbed into Harry’s bed. Lifting of the covers, she motions for him to lay down. Harry sluggishly climbed into bed and under the covers. He scooted over and laid himself practically on top of his girlfriend, which she did not mind.

Almost as soon as he rested his head on her chest, he deflated. He wrapped his arms around her torso and nuzzled into her chest. Y/N once again ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead.

“I love you,” she said quietly. Harry smiled sleepily.

“ love you too.”

Draco Malfoy

House: You choose

Y/N woke up to a light shining in her eyes. She also felt a strong grip around her waist and a warm, hard surface pressed to her back. She smiled and closed her eyes again, snuggling into the sheets and her pillow. She loved waking up peacefully and on her own. But, it was still too early for her to get up.

Not a moment later, she felt the bed shift and kisses being peppered on her neck. She whined and the feeling. Feeling a chuckle reverberate in the chest pressed up against her back, she huffed.

“Morning, sweetheart,” a gruff voice spoke. Y/N turned around to face her husband. Draco allowed her to move by loosening his grip on her.

“It was a good morning until you covered my neck in saliva,” Y/N grumbled. She was not a morning person and Draco knew she didn’t like to be woken up like that.

“I am offended. You love my kisses!” He exclaimed. Y/N looked into his grey eyes and sneered playfully.

“I do, but not like that. After being together for 8 years and being married for 2, you would think that you would have learned that already,” she said, closing her eyes and laying back down.

Draco rolled his eyes and kissed her forehead.

“Whatever you say, love.”

It was quiet for a few moments until Y/N sighed. She opened her eyes again to see Draco looking at her already.

“I’m sorry, darling. It’s the hormones,” she said softly.

Being 5 months pregnant wasn’t easy. The cravings were out of this world, and the mood swings were crazy. Draco knew that this was the case most of the time and let it slide.

“I know, love. I know,” he said, pressing his lips to her forehead and keeping them there.

Y/N sighed and burying her face into his shirt-covered chest. Draco then began to run his fingers through her hair, something he found she enjoyed.

“I love you,” He said, kissing her hair lightly “Both of you,” he finished, placing his hand on her slightly swollen stomach.

Ron Weasley

House: you choose (preferably not Ravenclaw or Slytherin. They’re kind of bashed in this piece)

Also, this is a best friend!reader fic.

Y/N stormed into the boys dorms. Ron watched from his sitting position on his bed as his best friend slammed the door and dropped her bag beside his bed.

He chuckled as she plopped down beside him face first.

“How was your day, Y/N/N?”

She looked up at him and glared.

“Horrible. Dreadful. Horrid. Lousy. Any other words that are similar to horrible,” she growled, voice muffled by his sheets. Ron laughed and set his quill down, as well as clearing off all of his homework.

After clearing everything, he laid on his stomach as well and faced his best friend.

“What happened?” He questioned, laying his head on his arms, his red hair falling in his face.

“Well, I was walking from Transfiguration when some snooty Ravenclaw tripped me. Not only did I hurt my chin, but my papers flew everywhere,” she explained. She faced him and lifted her head so he could see her chin.

Reaching out, Ron brushed his fingers delicately over the now scab. He moved his hand to rub her back in soothing circles. It was then that he noticed that she had already traded her robes for a sweater and some sweatpants, most likely his.

“What happened next?”

“Well, I went to Potions and received a low letter grade on an essay. Then, Malfoy taunted me for getting that grade. Godric I just want to wring his neck and feed him to the squid,” she growled, taking a deep breath and then closing her eyes.

“Well, if you were to wring his neck, I would gladly be an accessory to murder,” Ron joked. Y/N smiled slightly and opened her eyes, e/c meeting blue.

She shifted and scooted to where she was draped over her best friend, face stuffed in his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You’re an awesome best friend. You know that?”

Despite her voice being muffled by his shirt, Ron heard her. He wrapped his arms around and and stroked her hair. He smiled and kissed her hair.

“I do try.”

Any others you think I should do, just send me a DM or an ask. Also, I will do Teen Wolf characters soon.

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket,Se03, Ep 9 (part 1)

“ppl & feelings can’t be bound down”~

What an ep for my girl tohru! She completed her growth thanks to kyo’s rejection. really, It was so hard, cruel, understandable but above all so necessary for her to reach a logical realistic conclusion that “I can love/want things from the bottom of my heart, but at the end I can’t force or bound them to me, I won’t regret loving/wanting them, but I’ll move forward regardless, no more standing still”.

-The fear of being alone:

Aren’t we all? We’re scared to face the word after breaking bonds, changing, not getting what we want, having to start over. Such feelings run deeper into us all. Both tohru & akito were scared to face the word without the old comfortable bond that they got used to:

Tohru realized today, that she cant keep talking to a cold photo, can’t live according to her mom’s expectations, to fulfill her mom’s wishes, can’t narrate her daily life to her mom & fill her life with other ppl’s own issues to distract her self from facing her own loneliness & from looking deeper into what should she do with her life. As she fell in love with kyo, tohru started talking to him! forgetting to inform her mom abt her life’s details, thinking abt what will she do “after graduation?”. As kyo asked in se02, ep2. Graduating highschool is ur mom’s wish, What would u wanna do after?” Tohru didnt have a response of “an after”cuz her mom wasnt there to tell her! Tohru has to choose “the after” herself!!!! “The after” was being with kyo & starting life together! figuring what to do next together! She no longer alone! she found her most precious person!

Except: he cant be with her. Again tohru is scared. What to do now! she wanted a bond but is forced to leave it. Loving kyo was stage 1 to be free from her grief. Moving forward without kyo is stage 2 to learn not to repeat the painful journey again! She didnt let go of her mom & kyo easily. It was hard, scary but she must do it. You must respect their wishes & move on. As scared as she is, there will be sadness & happiness ahead.

Akito realized she cant keep an empty box, cant keep fulfilling her dad’s wishes to “be loved & special” cant bound the zodiacs to her for good. They may love her or not, it doesn't matter, if they wish to leave for whatever reason, she cant force them to stay.

Except now that the zodiacs are leaving, what does she have to live for? who will be with her? she isnt good with strangers? she never met anyone who wasnt forced to obey her & be grateful for her. Strangers cant be forced to love her! what will she do now? stretch you hand for a greeting. Tohru told her, make a friend, they might refuse you, but hey might accept u too, I’ll make it easy, Hi, I;m tohru, whats ur name?

The power of true love: ( reality vs fiction)

In fairy tales, the princess fix the prince. the prince save the princess. The prince kiss the princess, she wakes up & they be happy ever after. Except real life has no prince & princess, You cant always be saved, you cant always save others, pure intense true love cant always be the answer!

Yuki was first when tohru needed physical saving. he saved her twice! Yuki’s nickname in school ”the prince”. Yuki is always cool, thoughtful & kind. Yuki always knew what to say & do! he deserves tohru’s romantic love more than kyo, right? But “ppl & feelings can’t be bound down”~ . Yuki didn't feel this way towards tohru, granted no one (excepts kakeru) knows the reason why he loves her fondly (she’s his mom figure). The official” prince isnt the one for her. Real life isn’t a fairy tale. Yuki has someone who sees he isn’t cool, perfect or a prince “ granted no one knows abt machi, yet! ) XD

In tohru monologue: she didnt think abt saving, that's not why she loves kyo. She stated normal, silly, mundane things! a shy smile, awkward kindness & the likes. Stuff ppl love abt each other in real life. You dont say, I love my husband cuz he saved me from a burning building in the 7th floor! lol. But fiction is so full of this. Princes saving princesses.

Tohru didnt fix kyo, too! as much as her love helped him greatly to find hope, the best writing choice is that tohru’s love also brought despair to kyo! To him, she’s the symbol of hope, peace & comfort! she’s also, the symbol of despair, torment & unease! EPIC! The kyo who’s stuck in the past cant be with her, the kyo who will move beyond trauma, abuse & broken soul will be with her. The duality is all on kyo’s shoulder: what will he choose? Can he choose in his state now?

In fairy tales the princess wakes up after the kiss. In real life, we don't. Tohru didn’t. Regardless if she fainted during or after the kiss. The kiss fixed nothing. Kyo’s despair in seeing near-dead tohru in a not-so-subtle mimic to his nightmare, has manifested itself into the sweetest kiss upon seeing her conscious & talking. Kyo isnt good with words, his actions are his words. When he’s scared, sad, in trauma: running away. when he’s  fond of her, grateful for her existence: head knock, head pats, hand holding & a kiss. Still the kiss fixed nothing. Kyo is still traumatized more than ever now. Tohru still feels rejected “even if I’m not with you, plz live”.

Talking fixes everything. It didn’t here, kyo & tohru talked & showed their most vulnerable side to the other, but still didn’t meet half ways, regardless of all the love. That’s cuz they keep missing each other’s best timing. Kyo is stuck in the past while tohru has moved forward. even if in her mind she’s the one who stood & he moved. this shows they aren’t on the same wave yet. Before meeting each other again, kyo must learn from his mistake like tohru did. He must face his ultimate demon: his dad. The one who created the current broken kyo.

Rebelling against parents: ( sign of growth & freedom of choice):

Rebelling against parents  is a sign of a desire to choose one’s path, decide one’s own future. Away to express an oppressed desire.

Yuki rebelled against his mom in se02. he told her I’m not going to the college you chose. I’ll chose my path. I’m not staying away from Ayame. My bro is good in my book. I chose who I want to be with. He told her what he needed, turned his back & moved forward.

Tohru rebelled against her mom today. told her I’m not wasting myself doing only what you I think you’ll approve off. You might bot forhet kyo, thats ur choice, But I DO. I love him even if you might not approve of him, Even if he rejected me, my feelings wont change, but I’ll move forward from the grief & pain. mother. She told her what he needed, turned his back & moved forward.

Kyo WILL rebelled against his disgusting dad. He MUST. It is his turn now. He’ll tell him I’m not wasting myself being locked in a cage. I have a future! I’m not a monster. I am LOVED! I might not 100% sure why I’m loved, but the truth cant be hidden. I have ppl who love me! cheer for me! I want to live! enough of death! mom & kyoko died, tohru nearly did, but I’m not gonna die! I’m not killing ME! I’‘ll do what MOM didnt do! I’ll do what YOU couldn't do! I’ll live! He’ll tell him what he needed, turned his back & moved forward.  I cant wait! I’m in tears just thinking abt it! Kyo was punished enough! time for happiness!

Side Notes:

While I’m impressed with tohru’s growth, as they did her justice in this ep, this doesn’t erase that the buildup for tohru’s own journey & trauma was mediocre. There is a reason ppl commented ” omg tohru, you can love your mom AND kyo!. ” Grief is illogical, long process & it sucks that we weren’t allowed to experience tohru’s grief & her mom’s role in tohru’s abandonment issues. Huge lost opportunity that a good conclusion ep cant erase! but like tohru, I’m moving on ~

The path of growth for kyo will start by rejecting the demon: his dad. No. other. option. Hold abusers accountable for their crimes. Stop their madness. Tell them off.

We know kyo is baka! that’s his trade mark, the endearing baka! a lot of characters in the show think so! I love it, but I’m craving baka-yuki! XD! really, yuki is cool, level-headed & smart, but let him be baka too! this only shows up in tiny microscopic doses, but they’re my fave doses of yuki! it humanizes the “perfect prince”, the “gifted high status rat”! Thus him not seeing kyo running the other side, is my fave look on him! XD.

I appreciate that kyo & yuki put their differences aside when they’re with tohru. You cant tell yuki is hella pissed off with kyo, but he restrained himself. His gaze while full of anger is also full of sympathy as he heard/saw kyo’s panic upon the thought of loosing tohru. He understand they both only mean the best for each other, but also tried they both keep missing each other & not meeting half way! Also, yuki being the only one in the hospital is realistic & endearing. No need for them all to be there & yuki lives with her & is so close to her.

kyo not being the hospital is fantastic! thank you writer-San! why would kyo go to the hospital after thinking his nightmare came true? kyoko /his mom warned him, you’ll hurt another person.. he did.. he didn't cause her fall... but caused her sadness & hurt.

Momiji’s reprimanding gaze is my fave look on him! Also, the best response to what akito did. Akito isnt used to such judgemental gaze. Kureno grabbed her cheeks, gently told her you shouldn't do that, the old maid told her you are right, Dr. Hatori erased her mistakes from ppl heads & bodies, shigure being either cold or kissing her ass, coxing her to yet torment another zodiac in his grand scheme to break the curse as happened in the beach arc.

You bet hana & arisa will be there next ep! Arisa will meet kureno & akito for sure. To path the way for their romance as seen in the ED.

Shigure’s “remorse” is a whole can of worms. Playing with ppl’s hearts & feelings to gain someone’s affection is no laughing matter. Each time blood is shed, he contributed somehow. he didnt force anyone to hurt the other, but he played with matches & never got hurt.

Shigure must be glad akito stabbed kureno. Not cuz he’s sadistic or bad person. He isn’t, but cuz akito stabbing kureno is akito cutting her bond with him. Go shigure, your girl removed her lover with blood. Kureno is punished for sleeping with ur girl by blood! so, when is ur punishment for sleeping with ur lover’s mom? none? ok.

The animation is good. They didnt villinize akito by drawing extra manic features like se02. Kyo’s broken & tormented face once again epicly drawn. However, akito’s slaps on tohru’s face were comedic, unnecessary & such bad taste! Stop using violence for extra drama, furuba!

Also, tohru, I love you, I understand you are broken but charging at a person, who has a history of violence & physical abuse & holding a knife, is stupid. No other description. I’m glad she didnt accidentally kill you in her initial rage.

Everything akito’s redemption, kureno & shigure are part 2 in my review.

[ephemerlskies]

constant craving 04 (final) | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

⇢ genre: “drabble” series, best friends to lovers au, slight angst, FLUFF, bestfriend!au, unrequited love, smarter idiots but still idiots all the same

⇢ word count: 6.8k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, mentions of alcohol, excessive drinking (drink responsibly), pining, jungkook is an overdramatic baby, a surplus of feelings (i am disgusted with myself), one (1) fire hazard

⇢ summary: with the Friendiversary approaching quickly, both you and Jungkook have an array of trials to navigate through. and, as Seokjin gets caught in the crossfires, you must finally make a decision that will define how the rest of your life will unfold. 

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: wow.... so bitches really call this a drabble series then write a 6 thousand word finale... its me im bitches... anywho, i really love the way this played out!! jungkook had to hit the bottom to start rising to the top and it shows. also, the ending is like....... hehe well ill just let you all see for yourselves. enjoy my lovely readers! this wrapped up such a heartfelt series that is so dear to my heart. thank you all for the support for this! and i might whip up a few drabbles simply because i think this relationship is really cute hehe ok... happy reading! <3

part four: i love you too

Carrying that music box in his pocket felt like a well-deserved and all too grim reminder of what went down a few days ago. Sitting drunk yet again, though one would best describe Jungkook’s posture as more of a sloven pile of flesh and bones withering away on a bar stool, he searched for the wallet which was in one of his four pockets.

He reached for the wrong one. Instead of the faux leather skimming his skin, it was a solid wood corner pricking the pad of his index finger. It stung more than it should have. Perhaps he'd gotten a splinter, or the top layer of his skin was simply too raw from all the wear and tear of your fight. Jungkook wasn’t one to jump at such negligible shocks, but it sank him back into that night. It wasn't the wooden corner at all.

You loved him. You still love him.

That's what you said. That's what nearly put him on the floor instead of in his chair, and what had been preying on his mind as if he were no different than a helpless animal drowning his regrets in whiskey. And he knew he should have said it back. 

Jungkook theorized ways to defy the cruel restraints of time, and if the universe would be so kind as to allow him to travel back to that day in middle school when he happened upon a scared, flush-faced student running so fast and panicked that they bumped into each other, just to be the one who said 'I love you' first. Or those genies and shooting stars and blessed fountains that supposedly granted wishes; he would pay no hesitation to plead with whatever deity would listen and permit his most prioritized desire. 

The retrospective bargaining remained a ghost haunting just about every waking moment of his life. Though, he had not been quite sure if said ghost was some cosmic sent presence or simply his own guilt. If regret took on physical ramifications, then Jungkook would have been convinced that was why he felt as if his legs wouldn't have been able to carry him even if he tried.

If I could just go back to that night with the knowledge I know now, I would have hauled my ass to your house instead of that club and told you that my choice was made for me the moment I met you. Every other person I ended up with these past twelve years was simply a buffer for loving you. I had to prepare myself, because loving you was something entirely too tremendous for a boy still grappling with his own faulty speech pattern to assume.

I wish you knew that. I wish I didn’t stand there like an idiot and let you leave, thinking me some hero for finally letting this new guy Seokjin take the place I had always imagined being in. I wish I had just said that I love you.

I love you.

I love you, ___.

Jungkook’s vision resembled that of a smudged lens. However, there were no fingerprints on his eyes. The world had turned blurry and colorless, the latter he knew was not due to the sixth order of whiskey he let soak into his heart’s open wound. 

A life of color was one of the many things that left when you did.

He didn’t know it then, but Jungkook was being fervently dramatic since it had not been more than seventy-two hours the last time he spoke to you. Thought to him, it was akin to being just short of death and taking another breath would have been an expense he wasn’t sufficiently funded to pay. 

Whatever happened in the interim of him paying his tab and walking out onto the sidewalk must have landed somewhere in the blacked out stretches of his inebriated memory, since he was now staring at your contact gleaming on his phone bearing the semblance of one guardian angel.

It was so ingrained into his routine. Opening the app with the phone icon, clicking the ‘recent’ tab, and finding your name no further than three contacts down the list because he called you as if he had important things to tell you, though normally it was just to hear your voice or to tell you about what he had for lunch. And it nestled into his muscle memory as natural as it was for him to breathe or blink. Even when alcohol debilitated his driving, walking, and thinking, his body was drawn to seek a haven such as yourself. And he nearly pressed ‘call’.

Before the comfort of your voice could ring through to his phone, reality descended upon that reflex. Right now, you were probably with Seokjin, attending some pretentious art gallery for one of his colleagues.

It was just Jungkook and the night sky and the moon that he hoped you were gazing at too; it would be the only connection to you as of now. The moon, a parcel for the most longing gazes.

There are stories where the two protagonists get it right. This was not that story. That reality stung more than the residual burn of whiskey clinging along his throat.

Both you and Jungkook made every wrong decision possible. From the moment you subjected yourself to exploiting the veneer of being a ‘good friend’ to disguise any true feelings that might have taken light, to the moment Jungkook was presented with all the excruciatingly obvious signs that you were in love with him, but was simply too inept to notice, to the both of you neglecting any urge threatening the bounds of platonic. Any path that would have steered to a destination where you two would get that happy ending was conveniently untaken.

And you had a long journey riddled with heartbreak after heartbreak to prove it.

He traded his phone with that wooden music box, scuffing the soles of his shoe as he walked back home, hoping he’d be able to give the gift to you on your Friendiversary.

-----

Your pain was still raw. In this way, you had not considered, or rather avoided the idea of tending to such delicate wounds. The days leading up to the infamous anniversary had been spent hoping you would organically heal enough to allow the presence of Jungkook while denying another reopening in your wound.

You had been juggling a not so thrilling number of conflicts the three days preceding that self-acclaimed national holiday.

One, Seokjin and his bottomless supply of invitations that you felt too obligated to refuse. He had such a life packed with plans which is more than you could have said for Jungkook. He, most likely, busied himself with promoting ranks in some obscenely violent video game. Two, a mutual friend of yours had told you Seokjin was fixing to make your relationship official this coming Friday, and you didn’t want to admit the lackluster reaction upon hearing the news was equivalent to receiving a C on a test. It wasn't the worst grade to receive, but you knew there would always be something better than adequacy. Not satisfying enough nor disappointing enough to be dealt with without bending a few expectations. And three, all you really wanted, the only agent of excitability (both good and bad) that diluted the festering numbness in your heart just a tad more, was thinking about seeing Jungkook on your Friendiversary.

But with that excitement, was its equally worrying constituent: whether or not you would be able see Jungkook that day without cracking under pressure.

Things weren’t exactly attuned between the two of you. Your emotional stature had never been more unsynchronized and offkey with Jungkook’s, so, forcing a celebratory movie or dinner would be no different than adding cornstarch to the already thick tension.

“___? Are you listening?” Everything Seokjin had just been droning on about filtered in and out without a single word being absorbed, and you could have pretended this wasn't the case but  stress had apprehended caring enough to lie.

“Sorry… No, I wasn't. I’m just stressed is all.” Since that was only a half lie, self-admonition had not yet taken permanent residency whenever you would look at Seokjin’s eyes offering nothing but genuine tact.

“Oh, sorry to hear! Are you okay? Anything you wanna talk about?” That, and the soft press of his hand over yours had swallowed you into a perpetual, guilty cycle of comparing two incomparable people.

Seokjin was always like this. Serving a gentle smile and honest ears as a vessel of calmness during whatever calamity you were grappling. It was safe knowing if you fell, you’d have a comfortable cushion to soften the impact. He was mindful with his words and had the intelligence to articulate them with impressive eloquence. You were more likely to see pigs fly than to see him stutter. He had a diverse group of friends and walked a steady path to a financially secure life. And you started to wonder what else one would need in a partner? Any sensible person would do much more than you had to snag someone like Seokjin, as handsome as he was kind and respectful. He seemed to have everything Jungkook lacked, including mutual feelings for you.

It would have been entirely too easy to pick him, as if there was a ‘Seokjin’ button and a ‘Jungkook’ button and you could press Seokjin’s on a whim. If choosing him would have meant miraculous nullification of all your very real and very unremitting feelings for that idiot you called your best friend, then you would have done it in a heartbeat.

There wasn't a 'Seokjin' button or a 'Jungkook' button, nor was there a button that would wondrously redistribute your feelings towards Seokjin.

And then there was Jungkook. Always in the back of your mind when he wasn't tenanting the focus of it.

He was never predictable in the ways that mattered. It was just as difficult figuring out his next move as figuring out whether this trait was exciting or exhausting.

Though, this had not been to say you didn’t know him well; in fact, all his habits and preferences and pet peeves could be bound into a book, written by you, and it would be so accurate anyone who read it would think it was an autobiography. He knew you to the same caliber. Where Seokjin would ask what was wrong, Jungkook wouldn’t need to. He already learned your behavior to know to say something along the lines of ‘tell me what’s wrong when you're ready, we can watch your favorite movie or swing by that Chinese place with those great fried dumplings in the meantime’. And on more favorable occasions, he'd say nothing and simply wrap you in his arms and let his shirt become a delta for your tears.

To anyone else, that might sound entirely too frank and perhaps a bit dismissive to be comforting, but to you it was the exact cure for each affliction. To never need explanations that would validate your feelings because Jungkook saw to that right when he took notice; to never manufacture fake smiles through failed attempts at cheering you up since, of course, he knew exactly what to do to vegetate joy in your heart and earn a smile from years and years —and years— of practice. It had almost driven you mad, thinking about how he knew from a shift in your brow what you were feeling and yet, somehow, never realized how deeply in love you were.

All the while, the moment you were convinced you had been versed fluently in his every move, he would pawn another blindsight that would leave you breathless and amazed all the same. Jungkook always had concealed tricks up his sleeve, and life was anything but repetitive with him. You would more often than not find yourself struggling to relearn language and existing itself just to keep up with him. How exactly he managed to wield such diametric facets of being was an enigma beyond the reasoning of this universe.To feel like home, somewhere you belonged outside of your own body, and a daring voyage into a completely new world all at once must have meant he was some sort of Godsend. Only angels could have sculpted a soul so magnetizing, you assumed.

Seokjin was an umbrella, shielding you on some arcane journey under an unforgiving rainfall. Your shoes kept dry and your hair intact.

And if he was the umbrella, then Jungkook was the rain. Falling everywhere and all at once, so that you couldn't help but let yourself be saturated in his entire, vibrant being. And who’s to say letting such a water fall against your skin was a bad thing? Sometimes rain is cleaning, gentle even. They bear fruits as beautiful as rainbows that guide you to an unnamed treasure.

Your treasure, however, had a name.

Jungkook calling.

"___? Hello? You in there?" Seokjin waved his hand in front of your face mostly in a jesting manner, but part of him felt like your eyes were blinded by something held in your heart. If he hadn’t pulled you back into reality, you might have been lost forever.

“I'm just…” Your attention had abandoned this conversation the second his name gave light to your screen. “Sorry, um…”

“It's okay, you can take the call. I’ll be in the kitchen making us some coffee.”

If you were to thank him profusely, it would have been far too obvious how much you missed seeing his name among your notifications, and most likely expose how often you spent thinking of Jungkook while you were supposed to be enthralled with Seokjin. So, you just nodded and answered the phone.

Nodding and answering, as though that didn't feel like taking a breath of clean air after hours of swimming through muddied waters.

“Hello? ___?”

“Jungkook.” It took you longer than usual to form a response and what was assembled had been a half-baked utterance just to let him know you were on the other side of the phone, hearing his voice and feeling a surge of energy course through your veins like he was some delicious narcotic filling life into you after only a week without him.

“___.” Jungkook was in his own debt of words as well. The exchange halted for a few seconds, a jaded breathing cutting the cracked static.

“Look-”

“Hey so-”

Any hope that you had finally caught up to the same page as Jungkook was lost. Now, it seemed you two were reading entirely different books.

“You go.” You said after another dreadful pause. He was the one who called, so he should be the one carrying the burden of navigating through this deafening tension.

“Well, I- uh… I… Well, you see I was just, um, wondering…” Jungkook’s heart must have shut off. That would explain why even the most rudimentary of words felt closer to a foreign language. Or, why he was making conscious efforts to counteract the threat of his nearly dormant lisp.

His brain was drained dry of any blood, his inner mechanisms were shutting down. Even without the alcoholic filter catching words and common sense in its web, Jungkook felt himself fall into an overactive state of dumbfoundedness. Sobriety only a cataract for his emotional override. 

“Our friendiversary?”

“I’m sorry, I did not understand literally anything you just said.”

“Me neither.”

The charming and familiar laugh that spilled through the speaker reminded you that Jungkook was in fact a real person. Not some figmented embodiment of every lost and unrequited and tortuous feeling you had been suppressing for twelve years. Jungkook was real, his laugh and everything else you loved about him were all so incredibly real. And more importantly, the pure joy you felt was real; a permanent serialization of his. Your smiles and his smiles had always surfaced in tandem.

Now, you both were laughing. Neither were warranted by his messy attempt at forming a coherent sentence. The weight of discomfort shedding from your shoulders had been partnered with a slew of relieved chuckles.

“Anyway, um. I- I still wanna see you on our Friendiversary. Or, at least give you your gift.” Admitting that was terrifying but the thought of breaking the consecutive streak of eleven years simply because he was too much of a coward to admit he wanted to see you dizzied him. However, the thought of spending your friendiversary alone terrified him beyond comprehension. So, he thought not about that as a possibility; he carved an opening to his heart in hope you wouldn’t send sharp thorns of rejection into it.

“Yeah, I, uh. I still wanna see you too. I mean, it is a national holiday. We gotta have holiday spirit, right?” You were forcing playful banter, it felt like lemon juice scouring cuts on your tongue, but you were so desperate to make things between you two feel normal.

“You’re right! So, um… You can come over tomorrow night. I’ll set up a surprise or whatever.” He seemed to have fallen back into stride with pre-confession Jungkook. Trying to keep up with him now would just exhaust you of all your means, so you chose to save the rest for tomorrow night. Even if that meant watching him walk away to some unforeseeable finish line; his back, the last part of him you’d see until you could finally collect your broken pieces and start walking as well.

“Sounds good! I’ll, um, see you then.”

“See you, ___.”

You had no idea, and how could you, that Jungkook was now wiping small clusters of wetness from the bed of his eyelids. Why he thought you, the one person that remained a constant in his life, would say no to him over one fight (of many) made for quite the spill of tears. But if you did know, you would have told him you felt like crying too.

"Hey! How did everything go?" You were so immersed in your virtual conversation with Jungkook you nearly forgot the person you were presently with. The train of guilt wouldn't stop for your pathetic attempts at disembarking.

"Oh! Thanks for the coffee." You sipped, and it had just been a stall to blink away the tears that were straying beyond your will of concealment. "It went good. We're still celebrating our Friendiversary."

"Friendiversary?" Seokjin's light chuckle veiled his tense concern.

"Yeah... Uh, it's just this thing we do to celebrate our friendship. The day we met."

"Oh... that's..." His eyes were scaling the rim of his mug.

"That's what, Seokjin?" You were stern, knowing well enough it was born of far more than platonic defensiveness. And you had no right to be the one prosecuting him since you clearly had more to hide than meets the eye.

"I mean, it's just interesting how dedicated you are to an anniversary with a friend." Seokjin wielded that soft-spoken voice which made it difficult to be anything but patient with him. And from the tone of it, he seemed to have no ill intentions with that statement, though it had not been an entirely innocent observation. To you, however, it felt like he might as well have set you on fire.

"Interesting? What is that supposed to even mean? I mean, we've been friends for twelve years. I- I don't know why people are always so judgmental." Your arms crossed over your chest, hoping he would take notice how much his comment slighted you. If asked, you would have insisted you would have been this worked up over any of your friends. Though you knew well enough this was untrue, and it made you feel even worse acting as though Seokjin was the one at fault here.

"I'm sorry. I'm not judging you, really. I just... I just have never heard of two friends doing something like that so religiously."

You sighed out all your anger, knowing the way you snapped at him was merely misdirected frustration. "No, I'm sorry. I know it's kinda weird."

"Look, I get it. You guys are close. But, ___, you talk about him so much that half, no, over half of your stories include him. We've been dating for, what, barely a week now, and I know more about this Jungkook guy than I know about you, and I haven't even met him."

Lips parted, ready to dispatch another slew of defenses to refute all the things he said. It was more disappointing than it was shocking to find nothing but a long sigh emerging. Because he was right. Jungkook has been interwoven so thoroughly in your last twelve years that if you only told the stories without him in it, then it would be the least accurate and nondescript retelling of your life. Fragments of an unfinished novel. It would miss the most crucial pieces, entire chapters, of your story.

You would have been presenting a shell of you, hollow and one dimensional. All the inner parts of you, the lungs and veins and tissue that gave you life and made you whole belonged solely with Jungkook.

That's why you sat there, blank faced, foolishly waiting for the words that wouldn't come to your aid because you had no place to contend with him.

"Seokjin... I'm with you..." It's all that would come up your throat, and it felt like acid. You were sure it burned his ears when he heard them more than it had your throat.

It hadn’t even been partially true. Physically you were with him, but in your head you were sitting on your couch with Jungkook, consuming a concerning amount of junk food while chatting through a movie used more as background noise than entertainment.

"Okay. Does that mean you don't have feelings for him?"

"Well..."

"Can you confidently say you could replace all the time you spend with him with time you would spend with me?" Seokjin must have noticed your returning tears because he loosened his verbal grip from your throat. To you, it sounded like he was pacifying you for some horrible sin, to anyone else it sounded as though he was simply trying to dredge up feelings that would disrupt the chance of a relationship between you and him. "___, I like you. I really do, but in all honesty, I'm looking for something serious. I think we would be great together, but only if you don't have any feelings left for him."

"Seokjin..." You regretted looking at him.

Sweetness was strewn in his eyes and gentle smile. Seokjin was softer than cotton, which made the real threat, the rough sandpaper wearing away skin and bones, you. It made it all the more painful to know you had been keeping everything you felt for Jungkook hidden from Seokjin. Though, if one would have presented an objective point of view, your feelings were far from secretive. And the most brutal honesty was that you knew feelings for Seokjin were never in your attainability. Not the way they always had been for Jungkook.

He was the wrong person who crossed paths with you at the right moment. A mere convenience. And you knew he deserved much more than what you had to offer.

"And maybe I'm being an idiot, but I like you too much to give you some ultimatum which would put you in such an unfair position. So, I'll let you think this over." His compassion felt more like a sharp blow to your chest. “No pressure.”

If he hadn’t smiled like he did, then you would have broken up with him right then and there. It was not possible to rip away such tender hope away from a smile so sweet.

"I'm sorry." You meant the remorse behind those words and it still hadn’t amounted to a proper consolation. "I'm sorry. I guess... I guess I'll go... Seokjin?”

“Yes?” He replied quickly, and you knew only a pace that rapid was one brought on by a sliver of faith that you might have made your decision right then.

“You’re a really great person. You deserve the world.”

Unfortunately, you couldn’t give him what he wanted. And as bitter and unkind as that might have felt at the moment, it was the only bit of truth and relent you could have offered him.

-----

In your bed, sleep became somewhat of an abstract desire. You knew your rest was deprived from you when the digital clock on your bedside told you it was six hours past the time you'd normally fall asleep. It was because you really did have a choice to make now.

To choose Seokjin, and know you'd collapse in the safety of his reciprocated affection, though haunted by how you would never feel the fullest extent of content. And you would live with that until resentment and distance wedged irreversible damage in your relationship.

Or, to choose Jungkook, which would catapult you into a depth so dark and tenuous that you would have no idea whether you'd meet gentle snow or hard, deadly concrete when you landed. And maybe you'd never land at all; maybe you would be caught in a state of falling down and down forever, until your beating heart eventually stilled.

Which one was worth it? Which were you willing to risk? These were the questions that kept you awake.

The hours leading to your undisclosed celebration events with Jungkook ceased being actual points of your existence and merely obstructions that you had to plow through in order to arrive at some conclusive moment. Something that might give you an answer to all your questions. Something that might have released you from devotedly checking your phone for a Jungkook patented text or call.

You were turning into a half-being. Someone who could only inhale a full breath, laugh an intentional laugh, and sleep a soundless sleep when their other half was there.

If you thought being in love with Jungkook for your entire friendship was pathetic, then you couldn’t fathom what you had become now.

Standing in front of his door, the same one you lugged him to that night he was too drunk to balance on his feet, when you willingly carried all the weight he couldn’t, when your lips became acquainted and comfortable with his within half a beat, you felt as if this chunk of wood was mocking you. A partition barricading you from Jungkook. Your Jungkook. The man you always felt you were on the outskirts of, with only a window to peer into his unreadable mind. And that was enough for you ―until now.

Now you were going to knock on that door with your hand, make him open it for you, and walk into his home. You would be the one to step foot inside of the very structure that only solicited closed doors and immovable walls and fogged windows. And you would leave behind your timidity, every feeling and urge that left you with disappointing compromises for the sake of maintaining this friendship.

You would be selfish, and he would finally feel a mere glimpse of what you have always felt for the best and worst of your life.

Even when he opened the door, arming a smile that actively disarmed you, this home of his was yours to conquer. This was your time to act for you alone, despite how many smiles he sent your way. You had not any weapons or shields or an infantry for a clutch. You just had your heart and all the love it carried. 

“Hey! ___, you look… You look great.” There was no real incentive for him to censor how he truly thought you looked. Immeasurably beautiful. It was simply his own nerves impeding on the feelings that were too intense to express without it being followed by an entire soliloquy of I love you’s.

“Thanks... You too...” You could almost feel the words brimming in your and Jungkook’s mouth, carrying such raw emotions and longing intentions.

"I'm really glad that- Jungkook..." Walking into his house punctuated what you were about to say.

His living room was strewn with enough candles to steal the last of your words and to consider his house a fire hazard. That didn't negate this lovely sea of lights to be anything but romantic and thoughtful. A bit cluttered, and not at all perfect, but it must have taken Jungkook hours to set up every wax column. The thoughtfulness of this gesture would have astonished you had it not been for the consistency of Jungkook snatching your breath and words away whenever he tried. It was antithetical, the way you expected his surprises. Yet, always surprised all the same.

Unpredictable, completely surrounding you just like the rain.

"I had to turn off my fire detector but... Worth it." Jungkook considered the number of mishaps that could have dampened any chance of this being romantic.

A candle could tip over and set his entire place ablaze, the wax could leak onto his carpet and tabletops, damaging his furniture and savings for replacements, you and he could have suffocated from all the fumes steaming from the wick. But if that look on your face didn't feel like the only bit of revival to keep his heart's steady beating, if your eyes didn’t look as though it was the only set of eyes that shed beauty into this world then he wouldn't have used up exactly three lighters to pull this stunt. But it did, and he felt warmth and color return to every inch of his body.

He would have used hundreds of lighters to ignite thousands of candles if that meant an ounce of happiness from you. He wanted to say that, but he knew the candles said it for him.

The spectacle almost made you forget why you were here in the first place. It almost made you forget the resolve you managed to gather before entering. And then he said your name.

"___."

The letters flowing from his lips as if they could only be pronounced by his tongue. It sounded so good. So good, that if anyone else were to say it then it wouldn't have been your name at all. It would have sounded wrong, sullied. And it wasn't supplied by neat articulation, this new belonging of your name in his mouth. The need for him to sculpt your name into this world was more than that. "I will never forgive myself if I don't get this out while I still can."

"Jungkook, what is all this?" You didn't know why you felt a collection of tears brimming along your eyes, but you didn't care to figure it out. Perhaps you felt an influx of feelings, an abundance too heavy for your body to seal within the confines of your emotional seams, so they overflowed in the form of tears. This certainly had not been the first time you cried over Jungkook, but you had never cried over him like this.

"___, I love you!" Jungkook said loudly. It was just you and him who could hear, but it felt as though he wanted the entire world to know.

"What? I- You- What?" Your lack of verbal poise was indicative of your love for him once again taking the reins of your mind and heart. Words were a luxury you couldn't afford as of now. You just had to feel everything you were feeling until the rainstorm settled. The hope that he would spare you some remnants of fluency was far along, and you weren't too sure if what Jungkook was about to say would be gentle enough to leave you with any words at all.

"I love you. I don't know why I didn't know it sooner. Or maybe, I- Maybe I did know?" Jungkook sighed at his own ineloquence. "I'm stupid! That's it. That's my only excuse. I'm so stupid. The way I felt about you, the way I still feel about you, is something I thought all best friends had. I thought everyone felt like the moments they weren't spending with their best friends just felt like filler moments. Like, every day I spent without you was just a span of time I had to wait out until I see you again. Like every damn moment of my life is spent waiting for you. And if I don't end up with you then... then I'll never stop waiting."

"Jungkook, I-" He prevailed in surprising you, taking words and breath and thoughts all at once.

"And, I'm that stupid! I really thought all best friends had those moments when they stare at you, and- and-" Now, you weren't the only one with wet eyes and cheeks. "And I just feel like looking at you and being with you just makes me better. It makes me a better person, or something, and it makes me feel like... Like I'll never get hurt again. And even if I do get hurt, I know it's you I want to be there. I know that whenever something bad happens to you, or when you feel like crying or when you're happy or angry or anything that I want to be the one who gets to be by your side. When I look at you, all I want is to love you. To love all your pain away."

"You really mean that?"

"Yes! God, I love you." You didn't notice how it happened, but Jungkook's arms became a shield around you. Inside his arms you were indestructible. Your hands pressed against his cheeks, memorizing the plush, smooth skin. The world could hurl all the fire and ice it had, but it wouldn’t matter. "___, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out. I'm sorry that in that period, I hurt you. Please, forgive me. I love you, and I want to be with you."

"Of course, I forgive you. I... I can't believe this." Hearing everything you always wanted from him was drastically different when it was actually unfolding. It was a million times more than any hope or dream you used as a salve for your longing. It was everything.

"Maybe it took so long because I was afraid. Because the idea of loving you was something I wasn't ready for. Even though I did love you, God, who was I to take on something as fragile and crucial as loving you. I know I probably would have messed it up. And, fuck, maybe I'm messing it up right now. But I just needed it to be perfect. I needed loving you to be perfect because I don't want to give you anything less than that."

"You were always enough for me, Jungkook. More than enough. You were and are everything to me" His arms that pressed you further into him expressed how happy that made him. 

"But I'm not perfect yet. I might mess up... A lot. No, I'll definitely mess up. I don't know if I can offer you perfect yet. But I do know that through everything I have never stopped loving you and I will never stop loving you."

"Jungkook... I don't know what to say." Your thumb grazed a falling tear from his face. Jungkook had not cried often in front of you; and you could tally up the amount of times he had on your fingers alone. But when he did, it was still as beautiful as when he was smiling or laughing or even scowling.

"You could say you love me back." You did. You loved him, his smile that was currently on a mission to melt your heart, his arms that carried both the good and bad parts of you, his wit that you always relished in. All the reasons to love him were an endless flowing river. If you were lucky enough, you would catch a glimpse of each beautiful current and be able to give name to the gravity that pulled you into him.

"I love you too, you idiot." The last word caught in your throat because your lips were being kissed instead.

His lips. Warm and exciting, allotting your being with an infinite devotion of his. And it was more than you could have ever hoped for.

It felt like fire. Like a grove of candles encapsulating the origin of heat. You and Jungkook, holding each other so close, you could have become one. Hot and all-consuming of anything in its path. If one stood too close, they would suffer scorching embers that stray from the orange pyres. Seokjin, Irene, and any other unassuming casualty that had the misfortune of stepping between the two of you, harboring the burn scars to remind them of what fumed from their interference.

Every element concocting between you and him was that of a bright flame, cremating pure metals and wet woods and thick forests alike.

You were in his home. His arms and lips and hands told you it was your home as well. All that time spent wondering why you could never slip inside before was never because he didn't want to let you in. And the thing is, you never thought to knock until now. You sat outside in a silenced hope that he would voluntarily open that door for you. But unknown to you, Jungkook seemed to be waiting as well. Waiting in a large room with empty spaces where you belonged and where he kept reserved for your residence alone.

He waited even when he wasn't quite sure of who he was waiting for, or if you would ever actually spill your warmth into his home. He waited until his fingers turned to ice and his eyes fell to exhaustion, for you to walk inside.

"So, you're like my boyfriend now?" Your voice brushed against his smiling lips.

"Yeah, your boyfriend, or whatever."

"You know this means you have to top next year's friendiversary. And I mean, all these candles? That's gonna be tough." It could have counted as sensory overload, the feeling of his palms flush against your back, the tip of his nose grazing yours, the bright array of candles illuminating the room. But you were so, incredibly cold without him that this felt like solace to you.

"When have I ever disappointed you?" Jungkook regretted what came out of his mouth too late to stop himself from saying it.

"Oh, I couldn't count the amount of times on my fingers alone! What about that time you forgot our chains for the tires on our trip to the mountains? We almost died." His eye roll only encouraged you to continue. Maybe, if you were lucky, he'd equip that cute pout whenever he wanted his way. "Or what about when you swore you brought water, but three miles in on our hike you had that look on your face. You know I reminded you to get water and you swore you did. Or what about-"

"Okay! I get it! I fuck up, jeez." He scrunched his nose, his eyes waning into crescents courtesy of that grin of his. You counted the number of wrinkles along the bridge of his nose as you always did, though you had acquired an expertise in the geography of his face. Each line and angle and ridge were now and eternally yours to restudy and marvel. "Hey, uh, almost forgot."

He reached into his front left pocket. "I, um, kept carrying it around thinking I'd see you somewhere. Kinda dumb right?"

"Not dumb." You opened the tiny box, wound the handle until the spring felt tight and you could see the throngs prick the textured wheel, and it was one of those moments where you didn't see a gift in your hand. You simply saw his thought and sentiment manifested as a box of wood that sung a tune.

All the things Jungkook wanted to give you, the sun and the moon and the entire universe were not his to give. So for now, he settled for this music box and there would be a day when he would collect each celestial being and place them right into your hands. Maybe then, he would feel less of a debt for possessing such a love like yours.

"This is... I love it. Thank you, Jungkook." You smiled, but it was motivated in the hopes he would smile back. You thought he deserved that much, at least. And he did.

"Sooooo... Can I tell Seokjin that you're actually in love with me and that he sucks ba-"

"Um, absolutely not!" As always, his crudeness and slight inability to remain mature for too long only wedged you deeper in love.

So, terribly in love. Your state of constant craving for Jeon Jungkook had been left barren. That desolate, solitary province was no longer yours to take residence in.

You had a home now. And you had no need to crave Jungkook anymore. He was right here, holding you.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

a/n: okay, cry with me.... these two.... such hopeless saps for each other i'm here for it. final destination is simp city... also (spoiler) it is completely canon that irene and seokjin bond over their mutual heartbreaks and get to smitten hehehe. anyway, my loves i hope you enjoyed this finale as much as i enjoyed writing it!!! it was a short but heartfelt journey with these two and i will miss their idiocy sm. thank u for your endless support i love u all!!! <3

[3mmafr0st]

Remember Me Part 2

Previous Part <——-->Next Part

Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: SMUT and everything that comes with it, Talk of death and murder, violence, guns, brainwashing, sleazy billionaires (eat the rich)

A/N: I have had so much fun with this, give your opinions in the comments

They lied, there was no new mission tomorrow. I stayed locked in that dark little cell that they called my room. It was somewhat comfortable, they had to keep me Poole that so I would be able to keep myself in peak shape. A soldier is no good if they’re sick and in pain. There were sparse books, guides like The Art of War, or the vile words of Mein Kampf. I didn’t like the second one at all. The views were absolutely disgusting, but It made some sort of sense that it was there. I remember vaguely hearing about how Hydra was part of Nazi Germany. Although I couldn’t quite remember what that was, I knew it was bad, because that was what the book itself was about.

The walls were made of cement, the floors lined with corrugated metal. There was a metal bed frame in the corner, with a mattress, pillow, and blanket. Just enough to keep me comfortable. There was a desk in the other corner, simple metal table and chair, but nothing on it or in it. It was simply a place to fill out my mission reports. In the back was a door that lead to a small shower, toilet, and sink. Finally, a punching bag hung from the ceiling on the same side as the bed. I had been in this room for so long that I had memorized every inch of it.

It was difficult to tell how long I had been in here. The only clue to how long was the wall of carved tally marks, at least 20,000, give or take. They never actually gave me a calendar or anything to keep track of time, instead, I tracked it on mealtimes.

It had been about three weeks this time, complete with twenty two new tallies added to the wall. They pulled me out of the room after breakfast, restraining me by walking me with each of my arms held still. I had hope that he would be on this assignment, and as the door opened, a wave of relief hit me. My expression stayed stoic, unreadable. His face was the same, no emotion, no hint of what he did or did not remember. I was pushed into the seat next to him. He didn’t look at me, simply looking forward at the metal desk in front of us.

Pierce finally walked in the door. This must be a high profile mission if he’s here. Two folders were placed in front of us. We each opened our respective files, detailing the mission, even though Pierce began to explain.

“The two of you will be going on and undercover find and kill mission. You will be attending a charity gala for Rosenthal Industries, a former business partner of ours. Caleb Rosenthal will be attending the event. Your job is to get him alone, inject him with the neuro-agent, and make sure he’s dead. Your covers are listed in the file.” I nodded that I understood the mission, and so did Bucky.

The two of us were monitored during the car ride. We were meant to stay in the back while someone else drove the car. The entire ride was silent, the two of us trading glances at each other as we went over our respective files.

We were yet again set up as a couple, but we were meant to have some sort of agreement, an open marriage sort of situation. They were sending me to seduce the young Rosenthal, and get him alone. It was something that I had done millions of times it felt, but this mission was different. There was a more important objective at play, escape.

The minute we were given a room, we looked everywhere, analyzing and checking every item of the room for bugs or cameras. Once we confirmed there were none, I walked over to Bucky.

“What do you remember?” I asked, looking him dead in the eyes. I watched as the facade melted away from his face, the emotionless and cold look being replaced with a smile and adoring eyes.

I pulled his face down to me, pressing my lips to his. I tried to keep control, but it didnt last for long, as an arm snaked around my waist, the cold metal pushing up my shirt slightly to make contact with my skin. I gasped from the sensation, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

I felt the strain in my lungs, and broke the kiss, looking right back up at him.

“I know its been three weeks, but we only have three hours till the charity gala, and we both have to look presentable.” An idea popped into his head evident by the smirk appearing on his face.

“I mean, we definitely should take a shower first,” He said, hands moving up and down my sides.

“It’s probably a bad idea, but you are too good to pass up.” I yelped as my legs were sweeped out under me, Bucky carrying me through the air into the hotel bathroom.

Since we had to have a higher profile for this mission, the hotel room was much nicer than usual. The biggest excitement had to be the massive shower, more than big enough for the two of us. He put me down on the marble sink countertop, practically ripping his suit jacket and shirt off. My hands reached for his chest as he began to undo the buttons on my maroon dress shirt. Once the offending fabric was gone, he moved on to the rest of my clothing, ridding the both of us of any clothing that we had been wearing.

I whined at the cold as he left to go and start the shower, making sure that it was the right temperature. I didn’t want to wait for him to come back over to me, so I walked over to the shower, wrapping my arms around him from behind as he tested the water. I wanted to stay like that forever, simply cuddling myself into his back, the warmth of his body in contact with my cold skin. He began to turn and face me, and i loosened my grip so I could keep my arms around him.

“Doll, are you going to let go or are the two of us going to have to shuffle out way into the shower?” I pouted, but complied as he pulled me into the deliciously hot water.

“I missed you so much, Y/N,” His hands grazed their way down and up me like they did before. I tangled my hand into Bucky’s hair, pulling his lips onto mine. I had no patience at this point, and neither did he, the kiss rough and passionate as I was backed into the wall of the shower. His mouth began to move from my mouth, trailing lower and lower. I felt the warmth of his tongue swirling around my nipple, and a gasp broke free from my lips. The smooth of his metal fingers toyed with the other, making me throw my head back into the tile of the shower.    

“Fuck, keep makin those noises, doll.” His mouth moved away, trailing even lower, leaving kisses on my hips. He looked up at me, his eyes once again scanning mine for any hint of hesitation. Even through everything, he was still so kind, so sweet and concerned for me, it made me fall in love with him all over again. I was so distracted by my own sappy thoughts, that Bucky got the jump on me, licking one broad stripe up my pussy, nearly knocking the wind out of my lungs with how much I needed him. My hands flew to his hair, tangling into the long locks and pulling him closer. He moaned, sending vibrations straight to my clit, which only made me cry out and pull harder.

“Fuck, Bucky, please!” I could feel that knot that continued to tighten in my stomach. My hips began to try and move on their own, but Bucky’s hands pinned me to the tile wall so I couldn’t. I was pulled out of my trance as I felt two cold fingers slip inside of me.

I screamed his name out as his fingers began curling and pressing against the sweet spot inside of me, the combination of both his mouth and his fingers finally pushing me over the edge.

Buck held me down, helping me through my orgasm, holding my hips so I wouldn’t fall, and licking up every drop of my cum until he was satisfied. He finally stood up, making sure to hold me up so my legs wouldn’t give out from under me, his flesh hand pushing my chin up so he could look at me. My hands reached out to grab his cock, wanting him to get something out of this too, but he pushed them away.

“Not today, Doll, we gotta actually shower now, like you said, remember?” I groaned, but I knew that he was right. We had a mission to prepare for, and a plan to enact. Still holding me up, he moved me into the jets of water coming from the shower head. The hot water hit the back of my neck nicely, as Bucky squeezed out some of the soap into my hand. It felt like his hands were everywhere, assisting me with washing every bit and piece of me. Once I was finally able to stand on my own, he moved to get the shampoo, telling me to turn around and step out of the water.

He stood behind me, his hands in my hair, making sure that every single bit had been properly shampooed. I couldn’t help but sigh as his fingers worked the bubbles into the roots of my hair. Once he was finished, I stepped back under the water, as he aided in the washing away of all the shampoo and suds for one last time before the two of us switched places.

Although I knew that we had to go quickly, we, more like I, needed the time to get ready for the gala, but how could I not take the chance that I had been given to enjoy what he looked like, being able to simply move my hands over his chest, spreading the now foamy soap across his body. I moved my hands across every part of him, making sure he was perfectly clean for the gala. Once I got to putting the shampoo in his hair, I noticed a bit of a problem. Although I wasn’t the shortest person in the world, Bucky was still much taller than me, which created a bit of an obstacle when trying to wash his hair. I got up on the balls of my feet in order to reach the top of his head, collecting all of his hair in my hands to make sure everything was washed and clean. I felt as his muscles relax, as if he didn’t even know that they had been tensed, as my fingers worked at his scalp. If I wasn’t allowed to touch him in the way that I wanted, I would make him feel good in any way I could. He turned back around and into the water, rinsing all of the shampoo out of his hair.

I looked in front of the large mirror that lined one side of the bathroom. As I looked at myself, my thoughts wandered away from me. In all the time that I had been a soldier, the only women that I had ever come in contact with were doctors and nurses whenever I would get hurt on the job. They were extra careful with me, maybe it was because my face was valuable, or some bullshit like that. Other than that, I had never once seen a woman in any facility I had been in. I thought about this as I looked at myself, as the supplies and wardrobe given for me for the mission simply could not have been picked out by the type of men that I had met as a soldier. The makeup was high quality, clearly expensive, with perfect matches in color and shade in comparison to both my skin tone and the dress that I was given. The floor length black dress hugged my body in just the right way while also hiding the shiny silver of my leg. My hair was styled and put up and out of my way, both appropriate for the situation and the mission. I smiled at this woman that I did not recognize in the mirror. This was not me, this was Rose Castellan. I liked her, she wasn’t turned into a soldier against her will, experimented on and tortured for as long as she can remember.

I turned around, breaking away from my little pity party to see Bucky behind me, clearly struggling with his hair and tie.

“Help?” He looked so confused, and I smiled. I knew he didn’t tend to go on these types of missions, at least never by himself. He always struggled with his metal arm and trying to tie his tie, as well as never knowing what to do with his hair.

“Sit down, I’ll help with your hair first.” He sat in the chair that I had pulled into the bathroom from the desk. He complied as I began to fix his hair.

“So, any new memories in the last few days?” I asked, picking up the hairbrush and pulling it through his hair to get out all of the knots and tangles.

“There’s this one name that keeps repeating itself in my head, Steve. I know it’s important, I just can’t quite put my finger on who it is or why they are important.” I nodded, noting the information in my head.

“I am having the same situation. There’s a B rattling around, and I can’t quite get the rest of the word, but the B is there.” My hands gathered as much hair as I could in my hands, pulling it up to the top of the back of his head. “I have some parts that are solid progressions of time, but then it simply stops, sometimes for months, other times for years, is that like that for you?”

“Yeah, I can remember some missions that come in order, but then it just stops, and then starts back up later.”

“They really did a number on us the last time it worked when the tried to fry us, I could have sworn that I knew where all that time was going.” I pulled the elastic from my wrist, pulling it over the bundle of hair that I had gathered into a small top knot that kept his hair out of his eyes. His eyes scanned over his reflection in the mirror, clearly not used to the different look.

“Did I do ok”

“Of course, doll, just going to take a bit of getting used to.”

“You know you don’t need to keep it.”

“Yeah, but I liked it when you did it.” My eyes drifted to the ground for a moment as a blush spread over my face.

Bucky stood up from his chair, standing facing towards me. Taking the tie in my hands, I moved the fabric in and out of itself until it formed the knot that it was meant to. Finishing it off, I buttoned the front of his jacket, completing the look.

Glancing over at the clock, I saw that it was almost time to go. Luckily enough, we didn’t have to get into another car with another random driver, the Rosenthal Building was right next to our hotel.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” He asked, as the two of us began to get our things together to leave.

“After we complete the objective, instead of returning to the hotel and checking in with Pierce for extraction, we disappear, find somewhere off the grid that we can hide out for a little while so we can recover more memories,”

“Sounds like a good idea, we can’t plan too far ahead, we weren’t given schematics of the building or anything.” We looked at each other, nodding, before he offered his arm out to me, escorting me out of the hotel room.

I picked up a drink off of the small tray that was held by one of the servers in the ballroom. I thanked him, and Bucky did the same. Swirling my finger in my drink, I looked at the polish on my fingernail to see if it had changed color. It hadn’t. The drinks were clean.

The room was exactly how you would expect, with the fanciest furniture and decorations that money could buy, the guests all in the finest and most up to date fashion, everyone talking about their recent business ventures and lavish trips around the globe. There was an anger burning in me, but I had no idea where it came from. The two of us scanned the room, looking for the target.

I looked over to see the target, Caleb Rosenthal. He was young, maybe in his mid twenties, with a pretty face and a lot of money. It was clear to see that this man had never met any sort of opposition or struggle in his life, always given everything he had ever wanted. I looked at Bucky for a sort of confirmation that I should start, and he nodded. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to the small group that Rosenthal had been talking to. I sauntered over, getting his attention.

“And who might you be?” His voice was unbearable, the entitlement and ego dripping off of his words.

“Rose Castellan of Castellan and Stowe Law, we haven’t met formally.”

“I would have remembered a face like yours, what’s your deal?”

“We mainly work in company lawsuits. We’re the guys that save your ass if you do something everyone will regret.” He laughed at the comment, before shooing the rest of the crowd around him away.

“Would you like to dance?” He offered his hand to me, and I smiled sweetly at him, taking it as he led me to the dance floor. His hands were sweaty and wet, but I suffered through it. The two of us danced for a while as the soft and slow music played in the background. I glanced over to see Bucky watching us with a laser stare.

“So who’s the guy?” Rosenthal asked, gesturing towards Bucky.

“My husband, but don’t worry about him.”

“Oh, and why is that?” His voice had that air of suggestiveness to it that made me want to throw up in my mouth. I leaned into him, getting my face close to his ear.

“Let’s just say the two of us have a bit of an arrangement,” I made the underlying tone of the sentence all the more apparent as I moved his hand lower down my back to rest on my ass. He looked surprised at how forward I was being, but it didn’t take long for him to lean into my ear.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Lead the way.” Rosenthal took my hand and began to lead me away from the party.

The two of us walked the hallways, as Caleb tried to find an appropriate room in his own building. I looked behind me, and in the darkness of the hallway, hidden well by the shadows lurked Bucky, watching to make sure that nothing would go too far.

Once he found an office that he deemed suitable, he swung the door open, looking both ways down the hall before opening the door and letting me walk in. He locked the door behind him, and his lips were on mine, pushing me into the desk. I sat myself on the desk as he began to move his gross and sloppy kisses down my neck. I pulled the small patch out of the secret pockets of the dress, perfectly designed. As I moved my hand around his neck, I pressed the patch into his skin, watching as the material disappeared into his flesh.

It only took moments for the toxin to hit him. He stumbled backwards from me, holding his head in pain, uttering a weak “I don’t feel so good,” before hitting the floor. I checked the man’s pulse, confirming his death, before stepping over the body and unlocking the door. Bucky was on the other side, waiting for me.

“He’s dead?”

“Are you really going to question it? I know what I’m doing!” I said, punching him in the shoulder, the attempt at comedy trying to cut the edge of the situation.

“Let’s go.” Bucky began walking down the hallway behind me, as we tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. There was always a garage door when it comes to facilities like this, and thats what we were going to go to, getting into the elevator and pressing the buttons for the ground floor.

Once the doors closed, Bucky pulled me in and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, soft and sweet, a comfort.

“What was that for?”

“I just want to make sure I did that, no matter what happens.”

“Nothing is going to happen, this is the perfect plan.”

That was when the elevator doors opened into the ground floor, and a man was standing there.  He nodded to us, before getting into the elevator as we got out. The two of us looked for some sort of lab, anything labeled as such. I couldn’t believe how lax the security was, but I didn’t say anything, that wasn’t our concern. Finally we found where we needed to be, a large garage, that opened up. I opened the door as Bucky watched for people around us. The entire situation felt off, like this was too easy.

Suddenly, agents began bursting in through the doors, none of which I recognized. I looked to Bucky, and he simply yelled, “Run!”

I did as I was told, sliding underneath the door and running into the street, witnesses everywhere as I ran as far as I could. People looked confused, and understandably so, a girl dressed like a debutante running through the city as fast as she can in heels. My heart pounded in my chest, as I kept looking behind me for Bucky, where was Bucky? He had to have made it out, he was a better soldier than me, he was a stronger soldier than me.

20 blocks, at least, thats how far I ran, before I finally stopped. I took so many turns that they would have had to have lost them, but there was no Bucky. I waited in that spot for a little while , an alleyway occupied by a small population of homeless people.

Bucky had to have gotten out, he had to. He just must have gone a different way, yes, that’s it! He had to have just taken a different route, ended up in a different part of the city. We would find each other later.

I looked down to what I was wearing, the clothing too distinctive. I scanned my surroundings, seeing a girl, roughly my age and size.  I went up to her, surprising her slightly.

“Hey, do you think I could trade clothes with you?” She looked at me funny for a second, but then quickly nodded. The two of us walked into the privacy that the shadows of the alley provided, shucking layers of clothing off of us, trading what one had for the other.

As I zipped up the sweatshirt and jeans given to me, I looked at the girl, still confused and concerned as to why I had asked her to take the clothing.

“You’re gonna be able to get at least 2,000 for this at a pawn shop, don’t let it get damaged before the morning unless you plan on keeping it.” Her eyes went wide with excitement and nodded, going back to the corner that she had come from.

I left the alleyway, and once again began to move, trying to find a different place to camp out for the night. I had no money, so a hotel was out of the question, and it wasn’t as if I knew anyone that I could stay with.

I was lucky that one of the things that I had gotten real good at during my training, was pickpocketing. No one was the wiser, as I moved flawlessly on the streets, anyone who dared walk next to me was subject to the loss of their wallet. I continued like this until I found myself another homeless camp, huddling in with the mass of smelly bodies.

I turned to one of the people huddled around a small fire, warming his hands. “What city is this?”

“We’re in New York, you really must have taken something strong.”