#better than doing all the rooms then de iding i hate it i guess!

[confetti-critter]

Well, on the first sub level of my lava+glass+obsidian factory I used up like 4 stacks of cyan stained glass and then when I was finished I was like "oh. Hate it" and replaced it with regular glass.

[thenugking]

THANK u 4 providing the text, i am mostly an aurion romancer (but i love xi LOADS too) and AAA ive always loved the detail that mr umbrater malisar etc etc spent a whole YEAR trying 2 ask the mc out, its just soft, the ros reactions to a full monster mc is also very interesting too!!! u said u spent the most time on the homecoming chap, do u mind sharing some info on the GANG? i probably am already familiar w it but on the off chance im not! either way its fun 2 talk abt gaffv! - ghxstwriter

He���s just..... adorable. Likes yes Aurion you’re super evil, greatest villain, yeah, yeah, but also you’re a Cutie!!!

Link To A Google Doc with The Same Points But Better Formatting, I Hate Tumblr

Anyway I started off trying to point out, like, differences in approval and stuff in the Homecoming chapter but then I just got distracted so here are some of my fave Aurion, Xi, Phil and Kinistra things

So Aurion is Homecoming Tyrant if you’re not. He makes you Lieutenant if you’re his LI/nemesis/commander/minion. Otherwise, it’s Kinistra Unless she’s romancing you, in which case it’s Phil, Unless he flunked out, in which case it’s Xi. I don’t know if this is meant to show Aurion has friendships with the others, or just that he’s running through the list of the only people he knows, but either way I like it.

Also between this and the fact that, if you ask Aurion to be your nemesis in the second game but don’t have high enough approval he tells you that there’s someone else, I think Aurion/Kinistra is maybe a thing if you don’t romance either of them?? She’s also apparently in Fantasy in the second game, if you convinced her to be a villain.

Xi needs 10% higher approval than the others to agree to be your nemesis, and if they do agree, tells you that of course they’ll be your enemy, they like you. They’re the only nemesis you can’t have a final battle with in the first game, and iirc, tell you to be patient if you suggest the two of you should maybe fight at all.

If you ask them to be your nemesis without high enough approval, they tell you DarkBoard is their nemesis, and that they, "Dread and worship and will one day be completely subsumed into," them. So basically, Xi treats having someone as their nemesis as a sign of affection. I love them

They all have different levels of approval to be your love interests, and each has a particular skill they apparently find hot.

Phil is obviously easiest, needing 65% approval, lowering to 50% with 60+% hedonism. Or if you’ve taken the Don Juan course, you can romance him at any level approval.

Aurion and Xi both need 65% approval. Aurion’s lowers to 60+% with 65% competence, Xi’s lowers to 55%, with 60+% style.

Kinistra is the hardest, needing 70%, but lowering to 60% if you have only 50+% chaos. Her romance can also cut off if you’re romancing anyone else

Also I mentioned this before but Phil and Xi are both canonically polyamorous, and Xi’s in a relationship with DarkBoard. None of this is super hidden or anything I just appreciate it a lot.

As Homecoming Lieutenant, Kinistra and Aurion are both Very Eager to get up on stage with you, and Aurion announces himself Homecoming Lieutenant if you win without a nemesis/LI/commander/minion. Xi on the other hand, really does not seem to enjoy doing it.

As your commander/minion, Phil tells you he’s a Fallen Angel, like most of his family. Professor Arthenes also gives his full name as Gavril Philippe Des Anges Dechus after the midterms. (Although this may not be his “true” name, since Phil says in Chapter 2 that his real name tends to burn out people’s minds.)

We also know that his dad’s powerful enough that the debt dragons answer to him, and if you failed to get Phil to help you kidnap Kinistra and try bribing him with your mother’s connections you get this:

Even the normally unflappable Phil looks a little impatient at this. "Your mother? Oh $!{firstname}, come on, it's not like she could… I mean, do you know who my father is?"

So basically I’m pretty sure Phil’s dad is Satan. It also explains why, although Maedryn will insult Aurion and Xi in chapter 4 if you’re close to them, she doesn’t mention Phil--his dad outranks even her.

Speaking of the Kinistra kidnapping, there’s a lot of fun stuff there if you don’t have high enough approval with whoever you choose as a co-conspirator. They all ask for a bribe.

Phil wants 25% of your budget, which he apparently just considers a nominal sum. Look, I love Phil, but sometimes I remember quite how rich he is and then I slightly want to guillotine him.

Aurion wants 50% of your budget because at this point he has, like, no money, and he can’t hide his delight at getting some.

Xi asks for 75% but doesn’t actually seem to care about the money, as much as about making you suffer.

They each have an extra thing you can offer them if you can’t or don’t want to pay. Aurion will take favours from your mum, since he’s not very well off, Phil will take any contraband you smuggled into the school because he thinks it’s hilarious, and Xi will take an upgraded map so they can narc to DarkBoard about the areas DarkBoard’s missing in.

If Xi is blackmailing you and you offer them favours from your mum, they just stare at you until you get uncomfy and leave.

Also, if you do get Phil as your co-conspirator, you discover that his “room” is an opulent suite taking up the whole of the Horror dorm’s top floor.

If you try to let Phil fail in the mid-terms, but don’t have high enough hedonism, Aurion lets Phil cheat off his paper and it’s very cute look!!

Aurion, sitting at your table, hastily attempts to conceal his blush with an incongruous snarl. "Aurion? But you--but he--I thought you hated him!" I do!" Aurion protests, unconvincingly. "Lazy--worthless--no real commitment to the Dark Path--”

In the final chapter, if Kinistra or Phil steal control of your replica’s body and the hero-neutralising black hole and you’re in a romance with them, they do it by kissing you. Kinistra’s response is, “Well, I am a hero.” Phil’s response is basically, “Well I am Phil.”

Also if you’re in the Hero Conspiracy and ask a romanced Kinistra if you can trust her, she kisses you. When you worry that this seems a very heroic thing to do, she tells you to stop worrying because, “This is also standard deflection technique for Seductresses and Femmes Fatales." I really need to romance Kinistra at some point, she’s wonderful.

If you’re in the Hero Conspiracy and ask Xi to teach you how to disable DarkBoard portals, all their responses are wonderful. If you’re in a romance, they tell you you’re predictable for trying to seduce them into helping you, but then basically just go, “I’ll do it tho.”

If you’re not in a romance but have high enough approval their response is:

"You want me to demonstrate my power over the great and ineffable network that is DarkBoard by showing you how to remotely disable DarkBoard portals?" Xi demands. Their tone is as flat as always, but you suspect there's sarcasm there. "Sure, all right."

But then nope, they’re not being sarcastic, they really mean it??

And then if you don’t have high enough approval they just make a terrible joke and laugh at it??

"You want me to demonstrate my power over the great and ineffable network that is DarkBoard by showing you how to remotely disable DarkBoard portals?" they demand. "Pull the other one. No. Not the red one. Any wire but that one." They go off, cackling to themselves; it's the most emotion you've seen Xi display in months.

I love them.

Also some fun Aurion things from the sequel!!

If you challenge him for leadership of Fantasy after the dorm blows up, it mentions he’s wearing his Night Cape. Because he’s adorable.

If you try to throw the initial fight for your genre’s leadership by immediately surrendering and begging for mercy, but you don’t have high enough hedonism or chaos, your opponent will object that they’re surrendering. Which most of them are fairly chill about, but Aurion’s surrendering goes like this:

"Not," he says, "if I surrender first."You point out that if we're talking first, you were the one who started the surrendering."All right," he says through his teeth. "Not if I surrender [i]harder[/i]." Whereupon he seizes a heavy brass lamp and whacks himself in the head. He drops back onto the sofa as heavily as the fall of an axe. The others agree that you are indeed the winner by default.

In the DarkBoard simulation, the genre leaders all start talking about how there’s three of you, like on a heroic quest. And their individual responses are basically:

A Baroness: Obviously I'm the brains

Dev: We represent the psyche, I'm the id I guess

Sona: I'd be the fighter!

Aurion: I'm the Hero!

YES AURION YOU’RE SUCH A SUPER EVIL AMAZING VILLAIN oh my god i still can’t believe that that is the first thing he jumped to.

[gumnut-logic]

The Fight (Bit 16)

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5 | Bit 6 | Bit 7 | Bit 8 | Bit 9 | Bit 10 | Bit 11a | Bit 11b | Bit 12 | Bit 13 | Bit 14 | Bit 15 | Bit 16

Dashing out the door again.

-o-o-o-

Gordon held out his hand over the top of Anna and grinned. De frowned with a ‘what the-?’ expression at Anna before shaking that hand.

“Pleased to meet you.” It was said in preference to a number of sentences, none of them polite. Her sister could restrain herself when necessary.

Anna had to smile. “He’s harmless.”

That earned her an inquisitive but somewhat miffed glare. “Harmless? Hmph.”

Her smile became a grin.

His glare only increased. “So, Ms K, how did I not know you had a twin sister?”

“Hmm, perhaps because I never mentioned it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it isn’t in the curriculum?” She was getting sick of peering up at everything. It was time to sit up.

She was stiff from lack of movement and De was there immediately, helping her shift position and untangling the IV line. A few grunts and finally the world was better aligned.

Gordon was wearing a purple tracksuit.

Interesting choice. And he had the nerve to comment on De’s hair?

“How is Alan?”

That sobered him and she almost felt sorry for bringing it up.

She had to know.

Carnelian brown eyes darted to hers, to her sister’s and back. “He’s awake, as I said. Swathed in bandages.” She lost eye contact as he looked down and her duty of care flared. Gordon was still a kid and his brother had been attacked and seriously injured. He hid it well under bluster and humour, but in that moment, she saw through it all.

She reached out and grabbed his hand.

But then what could she say? She didn’t know anything. She couldn’t say Alan was going to be okay...she didn’t KNOW.

But there was something she did know. “He’s strong, Gordon.”

Those eyes flashed a vulnerability that broke her heart. Gordon had lost his father just as much as Alan had. He was still a kid.

But it was hidden almost immediately, a sparkle appearing in its place. “Oh, I know he is. Especially after eating Grandma’s baked beans. I’ve shared a room with the guy.”

Anna smiled just a little and squeezed his hand.

Those eyes held hers in smart-assed defiance.

Quiet. “I’ll take your word on that one.”

He grinned. “Always a wise choice, Ms K.” And he turned to grin at De. “So, Ms K’s Sis, any embarrassing stories you can share? Alan needs cheering up and I would love to oblige him.”

De straightened in her seat. That baffled expression returned to her face. “You taught this guy?”

Anna snorted. “Tried to.”

“She did an excellent job, if I may say so myself.”

Anna rolled her eyes and lay back on the pillow, surprised she felt so exhausted already. She hadn’t even done anything.

“Anna?” De stood up.

Anna held up a hand. “I’m just tired. I’ll be fine.”

“They said you had a nasty concussion and that it would take time to right itself.”

Great.

“How much time?”

“They don’t know. It varies, apparently.”

Great. She was an impatient patient. Hated sitting around. She had too many things she wanted to do.

“You can come and stay with me and Deni, if you like.”

Deni and the dogs. Could be fun. She adored her sister and her partner.

But there were issues. “I’ll think about it.”

Gordon was eyeing the both of them. “I guess I’ll let you two work things out.” He stood up.

She let his hand go, but then something occurred to her.

“Gordon?”

He turned to her.

“I’ve got a funny story for you.”

Curiosity took him over. “Yes?”

“Guess what ‘De’ is short for.”

He stared at her before turning to De. “What?”

Anna grinned at her sister, grabbed her hand and clearly indicated she wasn’t allowed to tell. “You have to guess.”

His eyes widened. “How? Why?”

“Because it’s funny.” To watch him squirm. “And no cheating. No asking your brothers or looking it up. You have to guess. Consider it a learning experience.”

For a second there she thought he wouldn’t bite, but sure enough that glint appeared in his eye. “Okay. What’s the prize?”

“Prize?”

“What do I get if I guess correctly?”

“Oh, satisfaction.” She grinned. He was well and truly hooked now. Add a bit of mystery and Gordon couldn’t help himself. She had used this technique so many times to get him moving with his studies. In fact, it was his father who had first suggested it many years ago. The key to Gordon was the need for discovery. He always needed to find out.

It didn’t take much.

“Deanna? Deidre? Dena?”

De was smiling and shaking her head.

“Detroit? Dexter? Danielle?”

Anna grinned madly. This was going to be fun.

-o-o-o-

It quickly became annoying. Gordon was very determined and eventually De had to kick him out of the room to the sound of every name starting with ‘D’ the boy could think of.

She slept after that. Which apparently was a good thing because when she woke, she was feeling much better. It wasn’t until that point she had enough brain to ask how long she had been in hospital.

“Three days?!” She was sitting on the edge of the bed preparing to get dressed.

“You’ve been a bit out of it, hon.” De’s expression hinted at what her sister had been through during that time.

“I hardly remember anything. I thought a day, maybe?”

“John called me the moment you were rescued. I met the ambulance at the hospital. You don’t remember?”

Anna shook her head.

“They hit you almost as hard as they hit Alan Tracy.”

“I want to see him.” She was ambulatory. The IV had been removed. She was leaving today.

She had to see him.

“He’s next door.”

“What?!”

“We’re in the secure wing of the hospital. International Rescue’s security has been checking in regularly. You’re under some serious protection, Sis. I’ve had to show ID and run my hand through a scanner to get in to see you every time.” An indrawn breath. “I have to say I would never want to get on the bad side of Scott Tracy. The man is a hovering storm cloud. At one point he thought I was you and started ordering me back to bed. You do not want to piss him off, trust me.”

Her last memory of Scott was him picking up his little brother from that dirty bed. His tenderness had been heart breaking.

Quiet. “They hurt his little brother.”

De visibly swallowed. “Yeah, they did. And my sister, too.”

Anna grabbed De and hugged her. “I’m sorry.”

Muffled against her shoulder. “Not your fault.”

“I need to see Alan.” He wasn’t her little brother and she didn’t want to intrude, but he was her student and...and...the last time she had seen him, he had been so hurt.

De lifted her head from Anna’s shoulder and frowned at her. “Okay. We can knock on his door and see if he is awake.” The frown deepened. “But you tell me if you feel woozy. And sit down. It is only pure luck you didn’t end up as bad as him. You have two contusions on the back of your head. Apparently, you wouldn’t go down with just one.” She reached over and brushed hair Anna’s hair back behind her ear. “They hurt you so badly.”

“I’m okay, De.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not. That guy better not step in front of my car. He won’t live to regret it.”

Anna drew her sister into another hug. “I’m okay.”

De grunted, obviously with some disbelief.

“I will be okay.”

“Yes, you will.”

“I will.”

De’s arms tightened around her. “The Tracys are going to crucify that guy and I’m going to watch.”

Her sister’s tone was almost savage. But then you generally didn’t want to piss off De any more than a Tracy. She had a temper.

“I need to see Alan.”

De sighed and let her go. “C’mon, then, let’s go see the billionaires next door.”

It took two layers of security. The one outside her door and the one outside Alan’s.

The black sash with the IR symbol had her pausing, staring. The man wasn’t Kyrano, but the black...

“Anna?”

She was holding her hand above the hand scanner, frozen. “Uh, sorry.” She placed her palm flat on the glass surface. The laser flickered across her skin and the machine beeped.

The security officer nodded and opened the door.

Inside was a room similar to hers, except this one had two beds in it. Her eyes latched onto Alan, sitting up in one,

The lights above him lit up the remains of his golden hair.

-o-o-o-

Next

[kingofthenorth49]

Made in China

I don’t know about you, but it sure feels like we are living through the start of World War III.  

Now before you scroll past and think my tin foil hat is on too tight this morning, hear me out. It’s not like this doesn’t make sense or anything, if you connect the dots it would appear that the next global conflict will look much different than the previous two.  

Think about it. China has been posturing for years to become the next world superpower, and if you can see through the medias bullshit you can read the overtures that are being made in the Asia region along with the saber rattling in the Middle East, you can see that it didn’t take long for Biden to unravel almost 50 years of progress towards peace.

War is inevitable and necessary to the state, and if you ever read Sun Tzu “Art of War”, a Chinese war treatise from the 6th dynasty you would understand the supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting. He also said that the outcome of war is pre-decided and gave solid advice on the best way to conduct campaigns to conquer foreign powers.

Now before you get your panties in a bunch, I’m not accusing China of deliberately inducing a world-wide pandemic through the use of a genetically modified pathogen after spending years devaluating the US dollar using printed money (not like we have room to talk, but we also haven’t been on a buying spree like the Chinese have in say, Canada for example.), but if I were President Xi Jinping that’s what I’d do. The best war is one where you risk no resources.

Again, not saying the Chinese are attempting to destabilize the United States, not at all. Just saying if I were going to take over the world that’s how I’d do it, from a far, using disinformation and creating confusion and chaos in the streets of my enemy. Not like it hasn’t been done before.  

See many of you see people like me as conspiracy theorists, people who are to be dismissed because we believe in things others’ think are foolish, things that seem farfetched and impossible to be going on in a frame of present reference. I just see myself as a guy who likes history and reads a lot of books that were written before Google came along and dumbed down our nations. Anyone who has ever read a book on the rise of the National Socialist German Workers’ Party in 1920’s Germany would understand completely. If you were to pick up a couple other books on how Hilter rose to power on the back of that party, you’d understand also how quickly people can be manipulated, and how the media and ideology can quickly create a firestorm of hate that makes it easy for societies to crumble. Read even further on how the German army used deceptive tactics to invade Austria and Poland so quickly they didn’t have a chance to prepare.  

That’s not a conspiracy theory, that’s history and we all know those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.  

I guess watering down history is a good thing, right? Taking down statues, changing historical accounts in the name of political correctness, and not encouraging people to critically examine all aspects of history to learn from them helps us become a better society.  

Let me give you the Cole’s notes version of how quickly things can go off the rails when the wrong ideology gains traction in a society where people intend to do evil. Again, not saying our current situation is remotely commensurate with our current situation, but it’s a good example of how quickly things can go from good to evil.

Here we go.

1933 - The Nazi Party takes power in Germany. Adolf Hitler becomes chancellor (or Prime Minister) of Germany. Nazis temporarily suspend civil liberties.

1934 - Hitler combines the positions of chancellor and president to become “Fuhrer��� or leader of Germany. Jewish newspapers are no longer allowed to be sold in the streets of Germany.

1935 - The Nazis intensify the persecution of people that do not agree with their political philosophy. Jews are deprived of their citizenship and other basic rights.

1936 – Nazi's boycott Jewish owned businesses. The Olympic Games are held in Germany; Signs barring Jews are removed until the event is over. Jews no longer have the right to vote.

1938 - German troops annexed Austria. On Kristallnacht, the “night of broken glass,” Nazis terrorized Jews throughout Germany and Austria and 30,000 Jews are arrested. Jews must carry ID cards (papers!) and Jewish passports are marked with a “J”. Jews no longer had businesses, attend plays, concerts etc. (maybe they were unvaccinated??)  All Jewish children are move to Jewish schools. Jewish businesses are shut down; They must sell businesses and hand over securities and jewels. Jews must hand over drivers licenses and car registrations. Jews must be in certain places at certain times.

1939- Germany takes over Czechoslovakia and invades Poland. World War Two begins as Britain in France declared war on Germany. Hitler orders that Jews must follow curfews; Jews must turn in radios to the police; Jews must wear yellow stars of David.

Now I’ll stop there.  

Those are all non-debatable historical facts, no subjectivity in my interpretation, just the facts m’am. Look how quickly one ideology took hold in a country ripe for change. At the time of the 1930’s German’s were desperate for change as they had just came out of world war 1 and were suffering from paying reparations for their conduct during that conflict and when Hilter came along he lit a fire under the German people by blaming the Jews for the loss of WW1.  

Five years. Five years from the time a tyrant took power until he was able to start killing 6 million people.

Now if you are one of those types that believe “it can’t happen again” look no further to all the other genocides over the past 100 years, up to and including the Uighur crisis currently going on in China where they have over 1 million Uighur Muslims in concentration camps and they are mass sterilizing these people to the point it’s actually consider a genocide, as it’s reducing the Muslim population in the western provinces of China though declining birthrates. If these women don’t submit to forced intra-uterine devices or monthly pregnancy tests, they are put in prisons.  

Put in prision because they needed to take a test, shot, or device and wouldn’t?  

Say it ain’t so Joe, say it ain’t so.

Folks, some people are evil. Rotten to the core. They have no soul and are in the most desperate need of getting laid of any person on the planet. That’s reality. You can choose to stick you head in the sand and pretend the boogeyman doesn’t exist, but in truth the boogey man will always exist because humans are nasty evil creatures capable of the most horrendous conduct, and if you think ignoring them or passing laws to prevent them from doing things are going to stop them, well you are just stupid. Sorry, I can’t soften that up any because I owe it to you to be blunt in these times.

Now if you’ve made it this far I think you would agree that something is amiss these days, there’s too many conspiracy theories of the past few years that are now seeming to be true, yet no one wants to talk about where the end game is. I’m not sure what it is, but I have some theories, most involved China or George Soros, but the data indicates more towards the former versus the latter.

Trudeau loves China, he’s said so on many occasions to the point of gushing over their communist form of government. His father was a Marxist, and his mother loved communists. Literally. **bow chica bow wow**

Hunter Biden and the Big Guy are in bed with the Chinese in a different way that Margret and Fidel. We’ve seen the emails, the testimony, and the allegations. For them, it’s about money. Last week the Big Guy shut down the investigation that Trump started into the Wuhan lab. That’s now created a firestorm that will likely make 9/11 look like a traffic accident. Coincidence? I think not.

We recently had two Chinese scientists with ties to the Chinese People’s Army kicked out of our highest security epidemiology lab here in Canada after CSIS had concerns they were passing information back to the Wuhan lab (a lab so highly classified Canadian scientists have a hard time getting security clearances to access it), and Trudeau drew the ire of senior Canadian military personnel when he bullied them into allowing the Chinese to hold winter war games at CFB Petawawa. Why is Trudeau so moonstruck with China?

Dot, Dot, Dot.

Once again, I hope I’m wrong. I really, really do, but go back and walk that timeline again and ask yourself if you now understand why Netanyahu hit Hamas as hard as he did.

Never again.

Can you blame him Comrades?

Now as you sit here in North America today, especially in Canada, does it not seem eerily similar to what has happened before in history? Keep in mind that Jews were loaded onto boxcars under the premise to take them to safety from the angry German peoples.  

I really do hope my tinfoil hat is too tight and it’s cutting off the circulation to my frontal lobe, I want the Canada back I grew up in, and the America I fell in love with. I just hope this really is just a bad bug that’s part of a cyclical pattern of virology and this isn’t the start of a global war to reorganize the planet power structure and de-populate the globe.

The dots just tell a different story.

Jim Out.

[despairingvacation]

how am i supposed to keep on feeding you?

...kill people?

TW FOR: UNCANNY VALLEY, CANNIBALISM, AND SUICIDAL IDEATION.

A Spotlight shines down. A Lone Woman standing beneath it, wincing from the brightness of it. It’s blinding but not unbearable. More Spotlights go off, collectively illuminating the surrounding area. This place, this… Stage. It’s… “Home, nyasu?” There’s no mistaking the rickety surroundings and dilapidated buildings in the area. The common cat head motif and the uneven pavement. This was Tao’s Home. The Ghetto she helped to protect with Torakaka. From the sights to the smells, everything yelled that she was home free now. Her body, no her heart clamored for her to go running to see everyone. Torakaka, Chachakaka, The Kittens, Robo-Ky, Everyone… But something’s amiss. Even she can feel it. With an upturned nose, Tao makes her way to one of the buildings and knocks on the door only to raise a brow seeing it swing open so easily on the first knock. Empty… An empty house with nothing but abandoned furniture inside. The floor and chairs were covered in some strange, black, gooey substance, but otherwise the only thing amiss was the lack of other people within.

Some part of her, she can feel it in her gut, but it’s a sickening sense of anguish. Fear? Disappointment? She didn’t know or seem to care. Her Heart screams at her to sniff around and see what was wrong, but she leaves and advances towards the next house. She doesn’t knock this time, rather she lets herself inside. Same outcome. Empty, abandoned, black goo.

The Next house. Same thing.

The Next. The Same.

Next. More goo.

Finally, she arrives. It’s her house. Funny. She remembers the layout of these streets being more windy and twisted. It was all a straight shot this time. Either she’s too busy making her way around to care, or things got rearranged when she was away… Empty red eyes stare at the door, taking note of the crack in it. That’s unlike Tora. Normally she’d lock it once everyone was inside. Robo-Ky would forget every now and then but, they were usually diligent about it. Raising a palm to the doorknob, Taokaka can feel the fur on her bristle up. Something’s wrong. Terribly wrong. There’s danger. She’s sensed it since the first house, and yet she’s chosen to ignore it until now. The fact her fur was on end, her senses are crying out to her to turn back and try to escape, and her heart is screaming out for some semblance of help, of hope… She ignores it. Finally she pushes the door open…

…

…..

……

Nothing. Nothing’s here… No one is here. No Tora. No Robo. No one. However… The room looks darker than the rest of the houses. Unusually so. Even as the dim street light shines inside, it seems to just end right when the darkness begins…

Dark. Black. Inky… Was this Willie? Inkswald? ...She remembers now.

As if on cue, the stray black masses of goop snake their way out their respective houses and slither into Tao’s old home, snaking around her feet in the process. Run. She can’t. Blankly, she watches as the masses lump together, form something, merge into one. Then, a mask seems to manifest on the strange mass, right where it’s face should be… RUN. She stays still, watching it slink closer to her, bubbling up like foam to get a better look at her until it’s inches from her face.

“You… Yo ‘re that lit e pest t ats always n my wa … You’ e  ack.” Taokaka never understood what the hell it was saying. It was always choppy, and it’s choppiness only served to irritate her and press her into fighting it more usually. Now she just stands there. Listening. Watching. The undulating movements it makes, the squishing and slickness of its mass shifting while it towered over her… The smell. Taokaka HATED this thing… All it did was terrorize her friends and family, threaten their lives, hunt them. ...Eat them when it could. She never understood WHY it went out of it’s way to try and eat her and the others, but it was a determined creature… So determined that it succeeded once during one of her patrols…

“Goo , so g  d… Abs lut  y de ic  us!!! Khhh hyaya haaahy  a!! You w  ld m ke for a fit  ng de   rt~.” The black mass slinks backwards however, ready to fight back when she would strike it in retaliation, but it pauses. Waits. “You w  t fight b  k?? The Ul   ate N  ht at h? Why?”

“Tao… Still can’t understand mew, Squiggly... Tao never understood why mew try to eat us… mew just do. Tao’s just going to guess and say that the squiggly is asking why Tao’s not fighting mew now…” Air passes through her teeth, a drawn out hiss is heard. “Tao… Hates you… SO MUCH. But… Mew proved Tao right. Two proved Tao right… And even if he doesn’t believe it anymore, Osomyatsu is right. Nyo-one’s here for Tao anymore. Mew ate them all. Killed them all, nyasu. For a long time, Tao wanted to get out. To be free with everyone nyasu. Tao wanted to be the big hero and save everyone from the bad guys. Squiggly Rat and Inky Rabbit. Wait for Rabbit Voice to save us, nyasu… Tao’s tired of hoping… Tao’s so… Exhausted… JK should have stabbed Tao, nyasu…” She stares at her feet, drained of all hope. “JK should have stabbed her and made Tao’s code thingy go off… Instead, they made her hurt beardo. And since then… She hasn’t been able to stop thinking… What if Tao was dead… Chatty’s always saying we’re just ‘giving them what they want, nyasu…’ but… Tao’s caring less and less… Tao wants to be free.”

The ink-like creature slinks behind her, listening intently, intrigued. “De d?  Ou want to d e?”

“...Maybe a little… No. Tao’s just… She wants to be free… She freed Grey-Yellow and Curly-Q. So… Now it’s Tao’s turn… Right, nyasu?”

Guttural, chaotic, vicious laughter erupts from the black ooze. Oh, this was too perfect!!

“Lit e beast of wa  past. You’ve g ne an  fina  y broken. Gughhu ghy  AHGHAHAHA!!! No lo  er a tho n in my ide… I can f ee you… do ‘t worry...” Slowly, it’s body coils around her… And she allows it…

This is it… This is what she wants. She didn’t exactly expect ‘Squiggly’ of all things to do her in, but it is what it is… right? Silently, she begins to apologize… For everything she’s done. Everything that’s happening… To Penny, To Date, Grimnir, Jowd, Shintaro, Ahn, Spinel, Della, Osoma-

‘Well if you’re going to kick his ass, I’m gonna be right there next to you, alright? Who does he think he is, messing with us, right?’

What...

‘Before this trial starts I would like everyone to know that Tao-chan and I are officially dating.’

Wait…

‘If I can have fun with you around, it makes all this feel a little less shitty.’

No, Why… Why is this happening?

‘Ughhh. Well... if you want to be angry, you can be angry with me. I won’t tell a soul. I think I’m too tired to, anyway…’

‘Asking me to pick a favorite Tao is like asking me to pick my favorite flavor of ice cream.’

Was this really the right thing to do?!

‘I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone on purpose, not really. I... I’m sorry, Tao-chan.’

‘You're safe... I can't believe it... you're safe, you're okay…’

Tears run down her cheeks, they sting; they’re so hot.

‘I promise, we’ll both be safe and lucky and make it out of here together.’ The creature’s grip on her tightens…

‘I just... it’s so lonely in here…’

‘A present? For me? Really?’

‘Last one there picks up Grimnir’s dirty socks!’

‘I miss seeing your smile…’

‘Answer me this— what the hell am I going to do if I have to leave here without you?’

Enough!! Something erupts inside her, and she begins to fight. To try and squirm out of the black creatures grip. She fights… And fights… and Squirms. Only to be met with laughter. Sick, deafening laughter. It sounded less like ‘Squiggly’ and more like the rat… But it looked nothing like him…

“Now you squi m?? You t y to escape? Sec  d t oug  s?? Too l  g have I waited for this moment!!” It’s becoming more coherent now… “You’ve had your due a LONG TIME AGO, YOU DUMB CAT!! WHY ARE YOU FIGHTING NOW?! ISN’T THIS WHAT YOU WANTED?! AN ESCAPE?!” It… Was… But.. This wasn’t the way!! THIS WASN’T RIGHT!!! RIGHT?! She’s at war with herself. She wants to Stay alive. Does she? She wants to live. Does she? She has reason to!! ...She does. She was so blind to it even when it was in front of her… He’s right about everything!! She was poisoned right?! RIGHT?! She has to keep fighting!!

“We were almost RID of you the last trial!! HAHAH!! YOU PUT ON SUCH A GOOD SHOW TOO!! YOU ALMOST MADE EVERYONE LOSE!!! WHO EVEN DOES THAT TO HER ‘FRIENDS?!’” She Squirms, pushes kicks and fights. No avail. She’s exhausted herself. The Kaka with seemingly endless energy has been drained of it all from the end of the last trial… And it proceeded to weaken as time went on… “HONESTLY YOU MADE THE SHOW QUITE ENTERTAINING FOR A WHILE, But Even the brightest stars fade out!!! Now… Time to give you that Escape you wanted… And to have a little snack myself… I’m FAMISHED!!”

Wait... No... NONONO!!! THIS IS NOT WHAT SHE WANTED.

In her final moments, Taokaka’s ears fold back, the tears falling from her eyes. A Small toothy grin cracks through, and she whispers. “...good-bye, everyone...”

[Osomachuu wuvs Tao-chan too!]

“...Especially mew… O-”

In a garbled mess of gurgles, slurping and swallowing, ‘Arakune’ rises up from their spot, spits up Taokaka’s hoodie and begins cackling devilishly. The Former Ultimate Nightwatch was no more.

[lovemesomesurveys]

What would you call your body type? Stick thin? *shrug*

Are you a morning person? Nooo, I sleep in late. I’m still crabby regardless of when I get up; though, and still feel tired and unrested and in serious need of coffee.

Have you ever been to Target? Countless times. I love Target.

Do you like iced tea? Sure. I couldn’t tell you the last time I had any, though.

When is the next time you’ll be at work? I don’t have a job.

Do you have a savings account? No.

Has anyone ever hacked your accounts before? Yes.

What color bedsheets are currently on your bed? They’re like an off white color.

Have you ever been to Disney World? If so, how many times have you been? Nope. I’ve been to Disneyland several times, though.

Does grammar and capitalization mean anything to you? It absolutely does.

Are you good at wrapping gifts for others? I’m not the best wrapper ever, but I do enjoy doing it.

Do you have a dirty clothes hamper in your room? Yes.

What would you say is your favorite television show? I have several.

Do you enjoy big holiday dinners? My family’s big holiday dinners got a lot smaller over the years, sadly. Now it’s just my parents, brother, and I. I love that, too, but I miss when more of my family was able to get together. Is your vision good? With my glasses on, yeah. ha.

Is there any piece of jewelry you’re constantly wearing? Nope.

What is one thing you desire as of now? To be able to fast forward through summer and also get back to some normalcy. I know things will be different now, but it’d be nice to get to a place where we didn’t have the fear of catching a highly contagious virus looming over our heads. Will it ever get to that point?

What kind of phone do you have? An iPhone XR.

If you could move anywhere, where would you choose? Somewhere with cooler weather year round. A place where you experience actual autumns and winters and not long, miserable summers.

Do you blog a lot, if at all? This is my blog.

Is your present hair color, natural? No.

What makes you the most angry when it comes to people? There’s a few things that come to mind, but I don’t want to get into that.  

Describe your current outfit? Black leggings and a black shirt. My usual attire. 

What was the last thing you ordered online? A couple of shirts for my mom and I. I want to order some of Bath & Body Works’ beachy scented hand soaps and body sprays as well. At least I can smell like the beach since I can’t go to one. :(

Have you ever felt as though you were drifting apart from a best friend? Yeah, and I did.

What color are your eyes? Brown.

Have you ever worn color contacts? Nope. I haven’t worn any contacts, just the idea of putting them in my eye and taking them out freaks me out.

What’s the best thing about a hug? They can be nice and comforting. They can also be awkward. It just depends. 

Biggest fear? Losing my loved ones, death, never getting better/getting worse, never doing anything with my life....

If you have a significant other, how long have you been together? I’m single.

Do you know any genuinely friendly people? Yes.

Do you buy your friends gifts? I bought them birthday and Christmas gifts. What was the last thing you plugged in? My phone to the charger.

How old are you? 30.

What color headphones do you own? They’re black.

Have you ever shopped on Urban Outfitters? Yeah, just a couple of times. They’re way overpriced.

Where do you buy the majority of your clothing? BoxLunch, Hot Topic, and Kohl’s. 

Would you rather wear necklaces or earrings? Earrings.

Do you consider yourself fortunate? I am in some ways.

Do you enjoy watching fights? Nooo.

Have you ever been in a physical fight? No.

Do you tend to talk badly about people? If I do it’s usually about people that have done stupid or ridiculous things that I hear or read about in the news. 

Where are your parents as of now? They’re in bed asleep.

Does your computer cooperate most of the time? Yeah, I haven’t had any problems. It’s only about 3 years old.

Does your family have any cheesy traditions? Sure, but I love ‘em.

When did you last go to a book store? Sometime last year.

What’s the closest book store where you live? Barnes & Noble. How much money do you have on you right now? None.

Favorite personal feature? I like my hair sometimes like after it’s been recently colored and styled. 

Are you wearing make up at the moment? Nope.

Favorite television channel? MTV, E!, The Hallmark Channel, ID.

Describe any piercings or tattoos you might have? I just have my earlobes pierced. No tattoos. 

Have you ever been fired from a job? I’ve never had a job.

Are you currently losing a best friend? No.

Describe the worst day of your life: Let’s not.

Do you play any video games? Yeah. Currently, I’ve been super into Animal Crossing: New Horizons.

Would you say you hate anyone? Apart from myself, no.

Do you think freckles are cute? Sure.

Last time you went to the mall? Back in early February. 

Name something that’s your favorite color: One of my favorite colors is rose gold and I have a really soft throw blanket that I love in that color.

Have you been to Red Lobster before? Yeah, several times. Haven’t been there in years, though. I’m not a seafood fan at all, but they had a delicious creamy cajun pasta. 

Do you judge by appearances? >> Judge what, exactly? There is some information I process through appearance, yeah – like, I assume that a person wearing a Behemoth t-shirt and black jeans with a chain wallet is probably a metalhead. Or that a person with impeccable hair and nails and makeup is probably really fussy about their appearance. The thing is, these are still things that I could possibly be wrong about, but it’d be harmless. <<< 

Do you follow a certain religion? Yes, Christianity. 

Who is your role model, if you had to choose? My mom.

Would you rather have nice hair or lips? Hair.

What are you most self conscious about? A lot of things.

Do you have any family members who live out of town? Yeah.

Do you consider yourself short? Yes.

What room are you in? Mine.

Hoodies or jackets? Hoodies.

Are you outside a lot? Ha, no. I’ve been a hermit crab years before the quarantine/lockdown this year, but that definitely has made it worse.

Have you ever been dumped via text message? Yes.

Do you like dreamcatchers? They’re pretty to look at, but I don’t believe they do anything. 

What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? I don’t have one.

Do you hate repetitive people and things? >> Er… like, not as a rule, I guess. But there are some repetitive things I hate, like certain sounds. <<< Yeah, same. And my life is also very repetitive.

Do you think autocorrect is a blessing or curse? It can helpful and annoying at times.

Do you believe in any particular curses? No.

Ever play a Ouija board? No. I don’t mess with stuff like that.

What movie scares you the most? There really isn’t one anymore. I love horror films. Some do still creep me out, but there isn’t one that has messed me up or anything. There’s no lasting effect after I watch them.

What was your bedtime as a child? Probably like 8 and then probably 9 and 10 as I got older. 

Reason why your favorite holiday is your favorite: I just love Christmastime.

Do you work with any close friends? I don’t have a job.

Do you consider yourself spoiled? You could say that. I hate that word, though. I feel it has such a negative connotation to it, like a spoiled brat. I was never Veruca Salt or something. My parents didn’t give me whatever wanted, but they always made sure I had what I needed and went above and beyond when they could. My brother and I were good kids and they rewarded us with nice things. I’m very fortunate that they still provide for me and I’m very, very appreciative.

Do you listen to any country music? Yeah.

Favorite high school teacher: My sophomore history teacher was really cool. He reminded me of Rob Dyrdek a lot looks and personality wise. I also remember that he was a huge fan of RHCP and had them playing everyday before class. 

Do you ever get drunk? Not anymore, but I have many times back when I used to drink.

Have you ever had highlights before? I had them for several years.

Favorite number: 8.

Do you still sleep with any stuffed animals? I have 4 that sit on my bed. What is your biggest regret in life? I don’t want to get into that stuff.

Would you say you think you have a mental disorder of some kind? I do have a some mental disorders.

Are you normally an independent person? I used to be more independent than I have been these past few years. I’ve been very dependent these past few years. 

Do you have any paintings? I do.

What is one clothing fad you wish never existed? I don’t care. 

Do you like to be organized? Yes and I used to be pretty organized, but that’s changed these past few years as well. 

Have you ever failed a class before? I had to retake a math course one in community college. Funny how I took it with a different professor and actually did really well.

Ever been judged because of your weight? I’m underweight and people have their own assumptions about it. What is your favorite breakfast cereal? The sugary bad ones, ha.

Ever had a wish come true? I don’t believe in wishes.

Do you regret meeting any of your exes? No. 

Do you own any coloring books? Yes. Adult coloring books became a big thing a few years ago and I got really into it. 

What’s the meanest thing someone’s called you? I’ve said the meanest, cruelest things to myself.

Have you ever bullied someone? No.

Do you ever watch Lifetime? Growing up my mom and I used to love watching Lifetime movies. We’d binge watch ‘em every weekend. Now we’ll catch a movie every once in awhile and kind of get hooked again, but not very often.

Ever tried to intentionally sabotage someone’s grade? Wow, no.

Do you own any brown clothing? I have a brown pair of leggings.

What color are your walls painted? White.

Last thing you drank: Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink.

Have you ever seen a tornado in person? Noooo.

Do you have an inground pool at your house? No.

What is the first digit of your phone number? What’s the prettiest town you’ve been to? There’s been a few.

Do you tend to sleep a lot? When I do sleep, yes. I have a messed up sleep schedule and it’s hard for me to fall asleep, but when I do I’ve been sleeping a lot. I’d nap a lot everyday, too, if I allowed myself to, but for some reason I rarely do.

Silver or gold jewelry? I like both.

Do you sometimes celebrate holidays early? Well, for Christmas we’ve done something the day or so before with family. 

Have you ever been in love? Yes. 

What’s the best gift you’ve ever received? Everything my family has given and done for me.

When was the last time you showered? A couple days ago.

Would you consider yourself attractive? No.

Has anyone made you mad today? Not as of now.

Favorite smell: Sigh, I’ve listed this too many times.

Are you afraid of insects? YES. ALL of them.

Do you have any children? Nooo.

If so, what are their names?

Would ever consider having children in the future? I don’t want to have children.

Have you ever lived on a farm? No.

Ever played any sports? No.

Do both of your parents have jobs? Yes.

Where is the best place you’ve been on vacation to? I love all the vacations I’ve been on.

Are you afraid people won’t accept you? That’s not something I’m concerned about right now. Haven’t been the last few years. And that’s not at all because I’m confident or something... very much the opposite. 

Are you, for the most part, an honest person? Yes.

Did you make prank phone calls as a child? My friends and I did that sometimes in middle school. :X So dumb.

Do you like to make donations? Yeah.

What is your current ringtone? One of the ones that came with the phone.

Meet anyone from your past lately? No.

Have you ever called a teen suicide line? No.

Have you ever caught something on fire? Yes. Food in the microwave and in the oven. Also the tips of my hair once when blowing out birthday candles... 

Ever been obsessed with a show? Yeah. That’s what tends to happen when I’m into a show.

What type of perfume or cologne do you use? A body spray from Bath & Body Works called Into the Night. I want to get some of their beachy scents now.

What’s the last book you read? I’m currently reading, The Girl and the Hunt by AJ Rivers.

Dream career: I have no idea.

Have you ever climbed a mountain before? No.

At what age do you plan to get married? I don’t.

Ever been in a car accident? No.

[baldwin-montclair]

Baldwin’s Nightingale (Part 5)

Characters: Baldwin Montclair/OC

Timeframe: After the S1 Finale, TV Show canon only (haven’t read the books yet)

Summary: Alisha weighs up Baldwin’s offer whilst dealing with the potential result of making the ‘wrong’ choice.

Tag requests: @christi14 @poemfreak306 @pookie-cleary

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

Alisha woke up to her phone alarm and in a room bigger than the small house she shared with Michael. The bed was a massive, oak, four post affair with sumptuous curtains.

The water temperature in the raindrop shower was perfect, no jiggling taps or sudden cold and hot shocks, just relaxing and blissful. After drying her hair, she decided to check out the fridge to see what she could whip up for breakfast.

Glass of orange juice and a bowl of greek yogurt with strawberries and raspberries, all enjoyed whilst taking in the morning view from the tall windows. Luckily, she had figured out how to close the roof window to avoid freezing the night before.

The night before.

First date and he offered her the world, in exchange for control over a part of it. She understood his message better now in the clear light and with a clearer head. His conditions didn’t seem like much of an imposition. Christina was nice enough and she’d most likely answer if he called anyway.

It’s not like she enjoyed taking the subway.

Her musings were interrupted by the ringing of her phone and, excitedly she checked the caller ID.

Michael.

“Hi.” She answered trying to not sound as disappointed as she felt.

“Don’t ‘hi’ me, the hell are you?” He sounded more worried than angry.

“I texted you last night that I was staying over.”

“What? I didn’t get a...” he trailed off, the sound of button presses replacing his voice, “you’re staying over at ‘Baldwin’s place’, see me tomorrow.” He read the rest of the message he had clearly just seen.

“Mike, chill, I’ll be over in a bit.”

“As soon as possible, there’s much you don’t know.”

“Fine. Bye.” Alisha hung up and called Christina, deciding to honour the promise she’d made Baldwin the night before.

“Good morning Alisha.”

“Uh, hi, listen, I hate to be a nuisance but-”

“I’ll stop you there, you’re not. Now, are you ready to go?”

“Sure, where will I get you?”

“You just wait there, I will come collect you from the apartment.”

“Don’t you need like a key and code?”

“Mr Montclair charged me to be your protector, Alisha, I have a key and code.” She explained cordially.

“Oh, makes sense. Well I guess I’ll just hang here.”

“I should be there in fifteen. Until then.” She hung up and Alisha wondered where she was that she could be there so quickly.

It was, however, enough time to tidy after herself, wash up the dish ware and cutlery, and both glasses from the previous night.

Alisha could tell Christina was about to object when she took shotgun position instead of backseat passenger but didn’t say anything.

“Did you sleep well?” She asked after some time.

“I did, strangely. Usually I can’t sleep well in an unfamiliar place but I was out like a light.”

“I’m happy to hear it.” There was no tone of sarcasm in her voice, just the same friendly yet formal manner.

Although the rest of the journey passed in silence, it was not uncomfortable, in fact, she felt oddly at ease with the other vampire, another mark in the ‘pro’ column.

When they pulled up at the door, Michael got out almost right away, clearly hoping to face Baldwin but faced Christina instead.

“Kris?” He stared in disbelief.

“Hello Mikey!” She smiled, seemingly forgetting her formality.

“Mikey,” Alisha repeated, “you know each other?” She asked.

“Somewhat.” Michael answered guardedly as Alisha tried to get out of the car but found it locked again.

“Are you kidding?” Alisha groaned in annoyance when Christina opened her door.

“Never about security.” She closed the car door behind Alisha and walked back around to the driver’s side.

“So you’re doing Montclair’s errands now?” Michael jibed.

“Bye Mikey, Alisha, you call me if you’re going anywhere!”

Alisha nodded and watched her drive off before turning back to Michael.

“Inside, we need to talk.” He moved aside to let her in and closed the door behind them.

“Look, if this is a lecture-“

“Alisha, stop, I need to tell you something, what I actually found in Venice.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I used to be on the Congregation,” he blurted out, taking a seat in his armchair as Alisha sat on the couch, “it was before I agreed to be your mentor but I was there and I still have my contacts.”

Alisha remembered Baldwin mentioning that she should speak to Michael regarding developments.

“Okay, so what’s the news?”

“A witch found the Book of Life, basically tore the entire congregation apart when she skipped off with Matthew De Clermont, your boyfriend’s brother.”

She understood a little more about Baldwin’s statement regarding his brother calling him rarely being a good thing.

“Where are they now?”

“We don’t know. Initially they went to France but where after that, the Daemons weren’t informed.”

“When you say ‘skipped off’.”

“Mated, apparently.”

“A witch and a vampire?” She asked, incredulous.

“Aren’t you seeing a vampire.”

“Neither vampires nor witches hate us, they just don’t consider us a threat.”

“I think Montclair knows more about their location than he claims.” Michael states, watching her carefully.

“He hasn’t mentioned it to me if that’s what you’re suggesting, nor will I ask him.” She stated defiantly despite knowing that Michael may be correct in assertion, given Baldwin’s concern and admission that they were ‘beyond his protection’.

“Okay!” Michael help up his hands in mock surrender.

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“That? No, that was just recent developments. I wanted to talk to you about this.”

He opened his laptop and showed her the same fresco from the previous night. A very beautiful depiction of the Roman goddess Diana with various animals surrounding her.

“I’ve seen this already.”

“I know, but look at this!” Michael tapped a button and an overlaid pattern of Latin characters over the animals. Beneath the photo he had arranged the letters in a line.

“Hold on,” she noticed the significance of the letters, “you think that’s music?”

“Maybe, can you play it?”

“Sure.” Alisha went to her room and retrieved the old violin her parents her bought her, it was her practice instrument.

She studied the notes before playing the melody, a beautiful, haunting and almost familiar song before stopping abruptly.

“Where’s the rest of it?”

“That’s it.”

“No, there’s more, the melody is not complete.” She answered with forceful confidence.

“Okay, I hear you. There were two other sites he was going to show me, I haven’t decoded the second one yet and the third one, the property had been closed off due to the purchase of the building.”

“So? Just talk to the owner-”

“No, I won’t be doing that.”

“Why?”

“It was purchased by another member of the Congregation, Gerbert D’Aurillac, vampire, not to be trifled with.”

“Why does he want it, what’s it for?”

Michael glanced at her then away, as though weighing up his options.

“Michael, what is it?”

“Something big,” he answered cryptically, “something that explains our place in this world, something that’ll make the witches and vampires see us as equals, not as pawns in their power struggle.”

“What does this Gerbert guy have to do with that?”

“I don’t know yet but I’ll keep working on the second fresco.”

She nodded in agreement, heading out the room towards her bedroom to get ready for that night’s performance.

“Do me a favour,” he stopped her, “don’t tell Montclair about this, or Kris or anyone for that matter. This knowledge could be dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“Fine,” she answered simply, “this is your wheelhouse, not my secret to tell.”

“Will you be back later?”

“Yeah, I’ll be home after the show, you just get that finished, I wanna hear the next part.”

“Yes Ma’am!”

The gathered orchestra stood in the amphitheatre having been directed there by a notice on the backstage door, no other explanation.

After a few moments, a short, elderly man joined them, a daemon, Alisha’s senses picked that up when he glanced around the group and landed on her.

“My name is Brian Cassidy. Unfortunately, Jonathan had to be let go and I will now be standing in as musical director as per request of the board.”

A confused murmur rippled amongst them.

“I understand this is sudden but we want to get back to normalcy, yes?”

Unenthusiastic agreements responded to his request.

“Splendid, that is all.” He dismissed them.

“What’d Jonathan do?” Susan asked nobody in particular but Scott responded with a shrug.

“Beats me, he was a stand-up guy.”

“Yeah, this new MD seems like a total-”

“Alisha Black,” he again addressed the crowd, “where is Alisha, I’d like a word.”

“Great!” She told her colleagues with a considerable amount of sarcasm and approached the fellow daemon. He waited until everyone had left before he addressed her.

“I think we can dispense with the formalities, Alisha.”

“Okay...” she responded, unsure what he was getting at.

“I am the primary shareholder of this company and I am concerned about the attention you are bringing to our door.”

“What kind of attention are you concerned about?”

“I prefer to remain outside of creature politics, having a daemon associated with a vampire on the congregation is not desirable.”

Alisha stared at him in shock.

“Have you been spying on me?”

“Call it protecting an investment.”

“Listen-”

“No, you listen! It’s not just about the politics, if you were seeing a witch or any other vampire, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Baldwin Montclair, de Clermont, is the ruin of our kind, the reason we cannot gather in communities while the witches and the vampires do as they wish. You are a talented musician but I will not have De Clermont’s pet lead my orchestra, I would shut the doors first.”

“Are you firing me?”

“I’m warning you. If you do not cut ties with him, I will be forced to let you go, it’s your decision. I expect it by tomorrow.” He walked away, leaving her dumbfounded.

Two ultimatums in as many days.

Alisha did not want to talk, or think. She didn’t call Christina, instead, she allowed Scott to drop her off by the subway.

By the time she walked in the front door she just wanted to collapse on her bed, go to sleep, wake up the next day with all the answers.

Unfortunately, she caught the subtle scent of incense from Baldwin’s coat and it stopped her in her tracks.

Could she walk away from the first chair, a position that took years to earn and would take years to earn again in a different company?

All for what?

She didn’t know what the terms were, the assurances or what happens when he gets bored of her, how many ‘Nightingales’ does he have, all questions to which she knows no answers.

Yes, she was extremely and hopelessly attracted to him but that wasn’t reason enough to abandon everything she had worked for, that would be insane.

“Michael, what exactly is a ‘Nightingale’?” She called out before entering the living room, she would at least get the perspective of someone who was familiar with the concept.

There was no answer.

Alisha rolled her eyes, Michael got into a flow whilst working where he could not hear anything and instead prepared herself to shake him out of it.

What greeted her instead, was a scene she could never prepare herself for.

Papers and books lay strewn around the room.

Michael lay amongst the mess, eyes open and empty of life, an obvious bite mark on the side of his neck and a smashed computer beside him.

———

PART 6

[ridiculously-expensive-milk]

The Day Our Bench Was Lonely - 02

Summary:  As one would have expected, coming of age isn’t quite easy when you’re a Yato. Kagura goes to an Alien Hunter school and Okita longs at the sky.

Chapters: 2/?

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chapter ii - penpals in space

There aren't many things Sougo find unsettling. After all, his boss and foster father are known as both a gorilla and an insufferable stalker while also leading the police force. That being said, Hijikata is more of a leader than Kondo—at least when it comes to the technical aspect of leading and being the pain-in-the-ass man of Gintama he excels at his job. For now. There's no telling when one of his assassination attempts will succeed and when the rise of Kaiser Okita Sougo de Sade II will finally happen.

Okita Sougo is a disturbed individual who is rarely surprised or startled, even when his boss comes in naked and marries a gorilla princess from outer-space, or when Hijikata-san slides away to a dark corridor sniffing mayonnaise like a cat on drugs. As a matter of fact, he's barely moved when he finds after a rather rowdy and drunken night, Kondo, the boss and a cardboard hobo together in a bed that's probably stained with suspicious night activity.

Yet it seems like his mind cannot help but notice how a certain red-haired brat hasn't shown up at their little destructive rendezvous. He doesn't really care at first. There are times where the Yorozuya somehow find a job and she's gone for a couple of days—often less since the Shinsengumi and the Yorozuya tend to meet in a twist of fate, making the trio as much as allies as they are foes to them. For the same reason, he and China forged a bond that is neither friendship nor hateful but something in-between. They hold a healthy rivalry wherein both can unleash their potential, get loose without consequences—besides the traumatised civilians and destroyed buildings—and waking up all the muscles and nerves of the body. Consequently, his body's been more than dull these weeks because she doesn't show up anywhere.

Whether it’s the park, Gran's candy shop or Kabuki-Cho that girl is nowhere to be found, even though he catches sight of the boss and Shinpachi-kun wandering around. He wonders if she's avoiding him, despite finding the idea absolutely aberrant since that person wouldn't ever run away from him: if he ever goes in the wrong path she'd dash at him in a furious battle cry.

He waits patiently for the whole week. That girl does have a complex family so perhaps a redeemed-terrorist brother or an overprotective father swooped in.

They share a pact of privacy, not that they talked or decided it. It happens that she doesn't ask him anything and he doesn't, either. Okita does not understand what she thinks about it but he's bad at chatting, much less with a female for he comes from a poor, rural region like Bushu. But he's a great swordsman, and much more agile with his sword than his words. It's not that they hate each other but there's simply no need for useless blabbering.

Or so he thinks. Until now. He’s truly puzzled by how far a brat like her could go to. In the middle of his though Okita is brought back by the familiar, deadpan-toned ringing of the phone nested in his pocket.

I have a Hijikata~ I have a tabasco~ Die Hijikata, Hijikata die~

With a sudden slowness, Okita catches the call and lie through his teeth, "Hijikata-san you shouldn't bother an upright policeman like me, I'm patrolling and this is an important duty for the citizens. But the trash's duty is to die, so die Hijikata-san."

Hijikata's voice comes through tired by his antics. "What upright policeman?! I'm sure you're somewhere skipping patrols again."

Children's laugh in the background and sat on his favourite bench under the comfortable shade of a tree, Sougo deadpans yet again. "I don't know what you mean."

Hijikata coughs, "anyway the princess and the Yorozuya are at the terminal. They want to go to the emergency transmission room and you have the keys, right? I don't care about the perm idiot but don't make the princess wait too much."

"Alright." He cuts the call and yawns. So much for slinking away of the patrols and going through suspect alleyways, nobody knows better than him. At the very least the Terminal isn't too far, Okita comforts himself with the idea that he'll reach the massive, monolith building in less than fifteen minutes if he doesn't get accidentally murdered like that one time.

And as planned, Okita arrives in less than fifteen minutes at the Terminal where he's welcomed by the princess and the boss though the latter looked like he just survived a near-death experiment.

"Thank you for being so fast Okita-san," the princess nods at him and smile. "I want to communicate with a ship in space so I need our best antenna, it's important to me."

Wordlessly, Okita guides them through the intricate hallways of the Terminal until they reach the inner core where the Altana flow the strongest. As they reach further in the giant building the doors become more and more secure and ending with shuttle doors that lock soundly behind them, though they're usually found on space ships to airlock.

"This is the emergency transmission room," Okita says as he passes the key—a card and enters the clean and neat room. As the name suggests, the transmission room is small and have one computer as well as some chairs laying around in a nearly all-white room that reminds him too much of a hospital. He switches on the computer in a flick of the finger and the panel brightens up. "Do you have the ID of the ship, princess?"

"Use this Sofa-kun," Gintoki scurries through her kimono and proffers him with a messy piece of paper that Okita can barely read, as the notes are obviously scrambled hurriedly.

Taking a minute or two deciphering Okita finally starts typing on the computer.

=====TRANSMISSION_REQUEST=====

MAS_CRIMSON

LOG_ik1151

=====REQUEST_END=====

...

...

Awaiting confirmation from MAS_CRIMSON

…

"What are you doing here, boss?" Okita slouches down onto the chair and yawns yet again, though the perm should probably be doing the yawning instead of him. His eyes are almost red from lack of sleep, not to talk about the big dark circles beneath them and the yellow, sickly tone of his skin. Okita has never seen Gintoki in this state.

"Using this too," Gintoki points the machine, "I asked Tama but apparently Gengai didn't put any antennas that connect to outer-space. That old man had one job."

"Why need that though?" He looks up the computer, the request is confirmed, "if you're smuggling some illegal SpaceBay goods I'll need to arrest you, boss."

"Doesn't Okita-san know?" Soyo interrupts with a surprised face, hand over the mouth and all. "Kagura-chan, she has gone to space."

Gintoki cocks an eyebrow as well, "that brat went off quickly and didn't really prepare anyone for this, not even her dear Gin-san so I guess Souichiro-kun you weren't spared either."

"...Space?"

"Yeah. Space." Gintoki rolls his eye, "she said she wanted to go to a school and become an alien hunter like the baldy. It was his idea, anyway."

"But fortunately Kagura-chan gave us her ship's ID and maybe her school's station too. She said it'd be like sending letters. Maybe you should give it a try as well Okita-san, I'm sure Kagura-chan wants to hear from you too!"

Sougo is tempted at first but his throat dries up, his stomach knots and he refuses. "I don't really care if that brat is in space," he lies through his teeth but it soothes his pride. It's amazing how he even bothered to tell her his farewell and she decides to skip right through it in return, not even bothering to get someone to warn him while he's scurrying the town like an idiot. Intense need for killing Hijikata suddenly surges through his mind, wanting desperately to release his anger. The irritation almost makes it to his face and he barely manages to hide his feelings before Gintoki starts grinning at him.

"Soda-kun—"

"It's Sougo."

Gintoki brushes it off in a dismissal wave, "all the same, all the same. Kagura's next break is going to be in two months, you know? It's fine if you want to chat with her."

Two months.

"I'm fine boss, she and I can always have a match after that. I can't say it's that easy for you though, you look like you haven't slept since she left."

And it's probably what happened.

Before Gintoki can retort the computer beeps in loudly, followed by white lines of codes scrolling through.

=====START_TRANSMISSION=====

LOG_ik1151 ... Encryption...

User_Kagura added to data...

...

...

Transferring messages (3)...

...

...

Transfer: ok, awaiting commands...

Two messages pops up on the panel: one for the princess and the other for the boss, they seem to be long and including few other friends or family—saving up on the number of messages she sent. That's almost too smart from her, considering her usually brash and reckless behaviour. And then, a third message pops up.

From: Kagura

To: Idiot

Subject: I'm in space, loser

[Message Encrypted]

It's for him. He's almost sure of it and it should make him angry that he identifies himself to an idiot but then again that's exactly the kind of things she'd pull off. Of course, she would, that's just how she is and it's infuriating that even for a fraction of seconds he felt hurt. Indeed, he has been fooled, because there's no way he's ever gonna be so mushy mushy with her, they simply aren't like that.

Okita let a grin distorts his face, he wants to reply and curse her right now and then.

"I thought you weren't interested, Solar-kun." Gintoki sounds too victorious for his taste.

"I'm not going to answer," his grin fades back to his usual poker face. "I have too much duties to play the pen pal of a brat."

"Hah," Gintoki scoffs and raise his arms for more dramatic effect. "That's new from you Soda-kun, if Shinpachi's a virgin you are virgin from any work."

"Right back at you, boss." Okita rolls his chair away from the screen and stretches, "anyway princess you can use the computer, you should be able to read and answer her now."

While Soyo excitedly takes a seat in front of the computer and starts to furiously type on the keyboard Okita rummaged his pocket again for his phone. The model is black and printed with the golden pattern of their uniform and looks below-average, whereas the average citizen possesses a slim smartphone the Shinsengumi's is rather bulky. It has to survive their activity, to the weather and should they throw it their phone have probably more chance knocking someone cold and very much dead but that's not all. With the human's genius and Amanto technology they could create a slim and solid phone but what they have is much more.

Wifi

Network

Okita selects the latter and the name of the antenna— a series of number— shows up.

Unlike any ordinary citizen, the captains of the Shinsengumi have access to all the antennas of the Terminal, the antennas were of course powerful enough to be reachable anywhere from Japan as long as they have a computer to connect with.

Simply put, that computer was built small enough to fit in their pocket— in the form of a phone.

He opens the message, decrypting in the background and waiting patiently for each letter to start forming on his screen. On the other hand, the princess is giggling and without a doubt pleased by the surprisingly detailed message she received and after a series of furious assault on the keyboard, she leaves her seat for Gintoki.

Silence washes over the room.

Ten miserable lines that is barely sufficient for the silver perm.

"Is that really all she has to say?" Gintoki's voice drop down at near the subzero temperature and messes his hair in sheer frustration. "'Gin-chan I have a real room now'? I scrambled off all my pachinko money to pay for her food!"

"But I think Kagura-chan is doing her best." Soyo pipped in, her finger gently traced the screens, kanji by kanji, "your message doesn't have a lot of errors. The one she sent me is full of them, but I'm her best friend so it's ok. She probably wants you to be proud of her, Sakata-san."

Gintoki suddenly falls in a silence that Okita interpret as one desperate attempt at not tearing up in front of a princess and a rather sadistic policeman. All is well for the two of them, and they seem to be satisfied of the messages China sent but he, unfortunately, cannot say the same.

Okita stares blankly at the meagre,  a mere three characters worth one-liner that is plenty enough to fill his body with confusion and anger, his irritation howling the deep of his heart in the form of soon-to-explode veins.

LOL

That brat.

He nearly crushes his precious, millions-of-yens-worth phone into thousand pieces as a wave of disappointment settles in his stomach. He doesn't know what he expected yet he's still angered by all the carelessness transpiring from the message yet a part of him knows it's just the way she is.

[sinsiriuslyemo]

EPISODE 40

The sun shining in through the window had already half-roused Nevada from sleep when his phone started buzzing on the night table. Groaning, he peeked over Irish’s shoulder and reached for the phone, bringing it to his ear.

“What?” he asked in a raspy, sleep-ridden voice.

“Good, you’re up. Well no one was hurt last night, thank god the space was insured. I’m speaking with the fire department now,” Jasper said in his usual calm demeanor.

You yawned, flipping to your stomach and quirking a brow as you watched your husband on the phone.

“What are you talking about, bro?” Nevada replied, eyes still closed.

“Haven’t you turned on a television today? The gallery went up in flames last night. Some sort of explosion. I’ve already sent my condolences to your sister-in-law, every painting burned, she must be devastated.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Nevada asked, sitting up suddenly. He moved Irish’s hand from his package and got out of bed, quickly putting pants on. “What did the fire department say?”

“They’re still looking into it, but it’s no doubt in my mind it was done intentionally. Like I said, no one was hurt, so their target was the gallery and not anyone in it. But I would appreciate you having your people look into this. Calling me furious is a bit of an understatement.”

“Yeah, I’m all over it,” Nevada answered. “I’ll give you a heads up when I know something.” He hung up and looked down at you. “You should call Izzy.”

“What’s going on?” You moved to tug on a nightgown and grabbed your cell phone, checking your messages. “Oh my god, Izzy called six times.”

“Somebody burned down the gallery,” he replied, gesturing to Irish with his chin as he put on a shirt. “We’ll probably need her on this, too,” he replied, smirking before he added. “If either of you can still walk.”

“Oh my god,” you said, dialing back your sister and walking out of the bedroom.

Irish yawned, sitting up and stretching, still naked as she smirked at Nevada. “Ya know, Dama talked up your skills so much I thought she had to be exaggerating,” she teased. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

Nevada shrugged. “Yeah, I get that. I hate to ruin your morning-after-glow, pero we gotta work,” he said, pointing between the two of them. “I’ll wait for you downstairs. Be careful standing up, don’t lose your footing,” he replied with a smirk.

She chuckled moving out of bed to start gathering her clothing from the floor.

Downstairs you were pacing the floor on the phone with Izzy. “I’m coming over, mami has the kids for the day so I’ll be over in a little bit. I love you, so much.” You ended the call and moved to start a pot of coffee for everyone.

“Oye,” Nevada said, coming up behind you and kissing your neck. “Thanks for the birthday present.”

“De nada,” you said as you turned to him with a cup of coffee, kissing his lips. “I’m gonna go see my sister, she needs me.”

“Dale, we’re good here. I’ll find whoever did this,” he replied.

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” you said as you grabbed your purse and tugged on shoes just as Irish came down the stairs. You pulled her into a hug and pulled back, smiling at her. “Thank you for being a part of Nevada’s present,” you said softly.

“Any time,” Irish answered, leaning to whisper. “And I do mean any time.” She kissed your lips just as Nevada came out of the kitchen to grab his jacket.

“Oye, maybe later. Vamos, we gotta get down to the club, Chibby’s already waiting for us.”

“You guys have a good day of...ya know,” you said, cheeks a little flushed from the kiss as you headed out the door.

Irish chuckled. “She’s funny. Alright Trujillo, let’s get going, shall we?”

“After you, buttercup,” he replied.

Roxie scribbled in her work notebook as she listened to her husband and son. Rafael was a natural, as he held the baby. Of course Rafael was a natural. Roxie on the other hand had been adjusting a bit slower.

She looked up from her notebook at her family. They were so perfect and beautiful. So why did it feel like she was watching them through a sheet a glass right now?

Rafael had been sitting on the couch with Liam against his chest, one large hand rubbing the tint boy’s back. “...And so daddy finally just got down on one knee and asked mommy to marry him. Can you guess what she said?”

Liam burped, spitting a tiny bit of the breast milk he’d just drank up.

“Exactly, she said yes,” Rafael replied. “You’re such a smart boy.”

Roxie tried not to make a grossed out face as she closed her notebook, moving to sit by Rafael on the couch.

“Hi, yes, Liam you must want time with mummy, right?”

She picked the little boy up, holding him at an awkward angle as she tried to place him on her chest. It only took a minute before the baby was whining and starting to cry. Rafael could see Roxie look the slightest bit hurt as she moved him back to Rafael’s arms.

“Maybe now isn’t the time,” she said with a tight smile. “I’ll hold him when he needs to be fed again.”

“No, no, come back. Let me just help you,” he said gently. “Okay, see how I’m holding his head? Then you just carefully pull him towards your chest as you move forward, then you sit back, see?” he said, demonstrating the movements for her. “Try again, come on.”

She stared at the baby on her husband’s chest, swallowing hard and shaking her head. “You know, father-son time is so important,” she said. She reached out a hand and pat the baby’s back. “I’m fine here with both of you like this.”

He smiled softly at her, though it was evident that he was trying to suppress it as much as he could. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” she snapped, immediately looking regretful. ”That came out aggressive, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replied as Liam began to cry. “I think he needs a change. You want to?”

She gave a jerky nod and reached for the baby, picking him up and carrying him to the changing table.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Mummy’s here.” The baby continued to cry as she started to change him. “Please, please don’t cry,” she asked the baby. “I’m sure we can be reasonable. See? I’m changing your diaper, now you can stop crying.” She finished putting on his new diaper and smiled down at him. “See? All better.”

The baby still cried as she frowned.

“What?” She picked him up and started to pat his back. “Shhhh, quiet down, my love. It’s all alright.” She gently bounced up and down to calm him, smiling when she heard him finally quiet.

“See? I told you you’d be a natural,” Rafael said from the doorway.

Roxie smiled nervously. “I’m not a natural, you’re a natural. Liam took to you immediately,” she said, pursing her lips for a moment as she felt a rush of jealousy. She wanted Liam to take to her too.

“Babe, what are you talking about? Look at him, he loves you,” Rafael replied, gesturing to Liam. “I’ll go grab his blanket and then we can put him down for a nap together, okay?”

She nodded and Rafael kissed her head before he went to get the baby blanket from the living room.

Roxie’s phone buzzed and she frowned looking at the caller ID. “Shoot, Rafi, it’s work, can you take Liam?”

He appeared about to say something as he walked back into the nursery, but closed his mouth and smiled, nodding his head. “Yeah, of course. Go ahead,” he replied, taking his son into his arms.

She answered the call, moving into the living room. “Hello?”

“Roxanne, it’s Lena, from production. I wanted to call you and get you an official start date for work. I hope you are as excited as we are!”

“Of course, I’m thrilled to get started,” Roxie said with a smile.

“That’s what I love to hear. So we are starting three weeks from today. We’ll send over scripts and notes soon.”

“Three weeks? My goodness, that is coming up soon,” Roxie said as she frowned. She’d be leaving so soon?

“That isn’t a problem is it?” Lena asked, worry evident in her voice.

“Oh no, of course not. I’m just at home with my husband and my newborn.” The word just came out wrong the second she said it. It wasn’t just her husband and her newborn, it was her whole heart. But the production didn’t need to hear a sappy speech.

“Oh, how lovely, congratulations,” Lena replied politely. “Then, we’ll see you in three weeks!”

In the nursery, Rafael sat in the rocking chair with Liam swaddled in his blanket and wrapped in his father’s arms. “Don’t worry, Liam, mommy just needs a little time to adjust to everything.”

Roxie ended the call, coming back into the bedroom to see her husband and son again. They looked picturesque together. “Alright my loves,” she said with a smile. “I think it’s time for all little Barbas in the house to take a nap.”

“He’s already out,” Rafael whispered with a smile as he stood and kissed his son’s head. “God, he smells so good.” Setting the baby boy down in his crib, Rafael stood and watched him for a moment before he yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Everything okay with work?” he asked, looking over at Roxie.

Roxie watched Liam for a moment. “Yeah, they gave me the start date for filming. It’s in three weeks. Much sooner than I thought,” she mumbled with a frown before looking to her baby and stroking his hair for a second.

The moments when he was asleep were when she felt safe with him. He could just lay there and she could admire the natural beauty of her baby. His soft features and tiny little fingers and toes.

“That’s soon,” Rafael replied in a yawn.

He had stayed up most of the night with Liam and had been happy to let Roxie sleep. She deserved it after giving birth to such a perfect boy and she had been exhausted.

“Are you hungry?” he asked softly.

She shook her head, she hadn’t had much of an appetite. “But I can make you something,” she offered.

“I think your mom said something about getting us some food while you were in the shower. She should be back soon,” he replied. “I think I’ll take a little nap on the couch, too while he’s asleep.”

Roxie nodded and moved to grab her work notebook again before sitting by Liam’s crib. “I’ll just hang out here in case he needs something,” she said, determined to help out and be the mom she’d planned to be, even if things didn’t come naturally.

“Okay, will you wake me when the food gets here?” Rafael asked.

“Of course,” she agreed. “I will wake you.” She blew him a kiss before getting back to work on her notes.

“Thank you,” he replied, going into the living room and plopping onto the couch.

You knocked on Izzy door about twenty minutes after you’d left home and picked up her favorite on the way--Chinese food and the nine-dollar-bottle of wine they sold at CVS.

The second she opened the door your heartbroken for your sister. She looked terrible, hair a mess and eyes red from crying as she immediately moved in to hug you.

“This fucking sucks,” she mumbled against your shoulder.

“I know, I’m so sorry, Iz” you whispered. “Come on, let's go inside.”

You led your sister in and both of you sat down on the couch.

“I smell Chinese,” Izzy said with a half smile.

“Damn right you do,” you said, picking up the bag and setting it on the coffee table. “I got the usual stuff.”

“Even the wine from CVS?” she asked.

You held up the bottle with a grin. “Does this look like amateur hour?”

Izzy smiled through her tears and wiped her face as she went into the kitchen to grab a couple of plastic cups. She sighed heavily as she made her way back to the couch, where you had began spreading the food containers on the coffee table.

“Why can’t I ever catch a break?” she asked as she sat beside you.

“Life sucks so hard sometimes,” you said as you started pouring wine. “But maybe this is a chance for you to start fresh on this new project. Your work burned, not your ideas or your passion. But I know you loved those pieces,” you said gently.

“It’s not about the paintings, I can paint more pieces...I just finally had something that was mine...something to help me take care of myself, pay my own bills. You know, be an adult,” she replied, drinking from her cup before she picked up a shrimp roll.

“You will again, I don’t have a single doubt of that in my mind. I was and am so proud of you.”

“Thanks, but...this is the second gallery that I was in to be sabotaged. Arnold said I could pivot, sell to private collectors, be more exclusively available. We’ll see,” she replied.

“Private collectors sound cool,” you said. “Maybe you could market this, ya know how some people buy cursed objects? All your art comes with a little bit of danger,” you teased with a smile trying to lighten the mood.

Her brows went in waves as she slowly looked over at you. “Seriously? Not helping.”

“Sorry,” you said and patted her on the back. “Is there anything I can do to help you?” You took a bite of a potsticker. “I’m here for whatever you need, hermanita.”

“Nah...I mean, I appreciate it but I wanna try to deal with this myself,” she replied. “If I do need something, I’ll tell you.”

“I’m always here for you and always will be,” you promised.

“Thanks,” Izzy replied, pouring more wine into her cup and leaning back on the couch with a sigh. “Have you gone to see Liam yet?”

“Not yet, you wanna go over? It’ll be a chance to get out of the house.”

She took a swig from her cup and nodded. “Yeah. That sounds like a good idea. Babies always make everything better.”

You nodded. “They really do, with their fresh baby smell and their button noses.” You took another bite to finish off your dumpling.

“Yeah…” she replied, closing all the containers and walking towards the kitchen as she asked, “Who do you think he looks like? Roxie or Rafi?”

“Boys always look like the mom, just look at NJ.” You carried the cups to the garbage, wiping your hands on your jeans. “What do you think?”

“I think Roxie, too,” she answered, putting the containers in the fridge and taking a swig from the wine bottle. “Okay, let’s go. Dibs on holding him first.”

“Okay, lets do this thing. Our Uber should be downstairs.” You linked arms with your sister as the two of you got into the back of the car that pulled up to the curb.

“Who do you think has become totally baby obsessed? One or both? I’m guessing Roxie is all baby all the time and our brother isn’t far behind.”

“I dunno, I did once catch Rafael holding a loaf of bread like a baby in the grocery store,” Izzy replied. “If my phone hadn’t been almost dead, I totally would've taken a picture.”

“Oh man I wish you had,” you said with a laugh. “He’s so perfect for this, Rafael has always been a caretaker.”

“It’s weird that it took him so long to have kids,” she replied. “Hey, is it me or did Roxie seem more into work at the last Sunday dinner they came to?”

“She’s kinda overwhelmed lately, I think burning the candle at both ends might catch up with her. It’s gotta be hard, raising kids and running a successful business. I mean, it is hard. I don’t even run the center full time and I’m exhausted. I can’t imagine being as hands on as Roxie and still trying to have a life.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Izzy answered as the uber pulled up to Rafael and Roxie’s.

“Let’s go see our nephew!” you said as you dragged your sister out of the car and into the building.

Taking the elevator up, you knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer. Izzy smiled when Helena opened the door and let the two of you inside.

“Hello there, it’s so good to see you,” she said. “Roxie is just pumping, Liam’s just had his afternoon feeding. Do come in, Rafael is right inside.”

You eagerly walked in with your sister to where Rafael was seated with the baby against his chest.

“Oh my god,” Izzy whispered. She moved over to Rafael and held out her arms. “Gimme, I really need this.”

You snorted a laugh and sat down too. “Me next. Oh my god Rafi he’s so tiny against you.”

“I’m burping him, Izzy. I’m not Y/N, you can’t just waltz in and demand a baby,” Rafael replied with a smirk.

“But look at his little toes, I don’t even want kids but he has my maternal instincts going crazy.” Izzy watched Rafael burp him and smiled as she tried to get a better look at the baby’s features. “Oh totally looks like Roxie. You’re so handsome, Liam,” Izzy said, waiting patiently for her chance to hold him.

“Isn’t he perfect?” Rafael asked, kissing the top of his son’s head. “Okay, use some hand sanitizer, sit down on the couch and you can hold him.”

Izzy nodded as she squirted some sanitizer on her hands and moved to sit down on the couch, arms reaching out waiting for the baby.

Standing, Rafael walked over to where his youngest sister was sitting and carefully placed Liam in her arms. “Careful with his head.”

She held him carefully, smiling down at the baby. “I was right, babies do make everything better,” she agreed as she looked at you, then back down at the infant. “Hi Liam, I’m your auntie Izzy. You are almost the 100% cure for my last twenty-four hours.”

“What do you mean? What happened?” Rafael asked with knitted brows, looking from Izzy to you.

“The gallery blew up,” you said with a frown. “Everything inside was ruined.”

“Oh, that’s dreadful,” Helena said from the kitchen, frowning at Izzy.

Izzy bit her lip and leaned down to sniff Liam’s head to calm herself. Rafael’s face fell as he looked back at Izzy.

“Oh God, Izzy, I’m so sorry,” he said, sitting beside her. “I had no idea, I’m sorry.”

“That’s two out of two for galleries, maybe galleries just aren’t my thing,” Izzy mumbled with a tired laugh.

“Do they know what happened?” Rafael asked.

“I heard they’re thinking it was done deliberately,” you replied.

“Of course it was, that would exactly be my luck,” Izzy said with a frown, unable to keep from smiling when the baby yawned. “You are so stinkin’ cute.”

“He’s such a good baby,” Helena mused from the kitchen as Roxie came out of the bedroom with bags of breast milk to freeze. “Darling, look who’s come to see Liam!”

Roxie gave a tired smile, moving to the the breast milk into the freezer and taking a moment to take a big breath before going to say hello. She hugged you tight.

“Hi guys, here to steal our baby already?” she said with a chuckle. “Can I get you both a drink?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” you said. “We just wanted to be the first ones to see our handsome nephew.”

“He looks just like you, Roxie,” Izzy replied.

“Y/N, there’s hand sanitizer on the coffee table if you wanna hold him,” Rafael said, gesturing to the same bottle Izzy had used with his chin.

“Yes, my turn.” You moved to the bottle and sanitized yourself before letting Izzy hand you the baby. “Oh my god, look at you, papi. You’re so little,” you cooed. “Roxie I can’t believe you have even put him down yet, he is so snuggly.”

“Yes, well I’m so glad he’s taking so well to his aunts,” Roxie mumbled.

Liam sneezed, making you laugh as you watched him. “Bless you, cutie.”

The baby squirmed in your arms and began to whimper, then cry loudly, wiggling and turning red from his efforts.

“He might need a change,” Rafael said, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh I can do it,” you offered and stood, rocking him.

“I’ll show you where it is,” Roxie said as she led you into the other room.

You set him on the changing table. “You’re okay, cutie.” You changed him with ease, picking him back up and bouncing him until he calmed.

“You’re quite the professional with babies,” Roxie mused.

“Just practice, I’ve had three. So I have plenty of baby experience,” you said with a laugh.

Not even a moment later, Liam started to cry again--a high-pitched scream that seemed almost unlikely to come from a baby.

“Oh you poor thing, what’s the matter Liam?” you cooed. “Do you want mommy?” You moved to hand the baby over as Roxie flinched.

You frowned, looking her over. “I think he’s probably just hungry again...are you okay?”

“I just fed him.” She frowned at the baby.

“Okay, then maybe he just wants more attention,” you said, kissing his cheeks. “What’s the matter, papi?”

Liam continued to cry and wriggle in your arms, his knees coming up towards his chest before he straightened them again. He did this over and over and after a moment, Rafael came into the room.

“Y/N, don’t you have three of these?” he teased, gently taking his son and holding him upright against your shoulder.

When Liam didn’t calm, Rafael offered to take him. “Maybe he doesn’t like your perfume or something?”

You shrugged with a smile. “Babies.”

Roxie watched Rafael with the baby again, arms crossed.

“You want him, honey?” Rafael asked when he noticed her arms crossed. “Come on, I’ve had him all night, you should be able to hog him for awhile.”

“Maybe in a bit, he probably just misses his dad,” she said softly. “I’ll hold him later. I’m going to go sit with Izzy.” She pointed to the living room before walking out.

“What’s up with her?” you said with a frown.

“I think maybe she’s just nervous,” he replied. “It’s our first baby, she’ll adjust soon. He’s only two days old, we’re both adjusting.”

“Well he’s gorgeous,” you said with a smile, looking at the baby. “I’m so psyched for you Rafi. You’re going to be the best dad.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “So, the truth, how is Izzy doing with what happened to the gallery?”

“Poor girl is devastated. Can you blame her? This is the second gallery gone wrong.”

“Yeah…” He sighed heavily. “Does she know what she’s gonna do?”

“She’s considering doing private sales, not many other options. Her name is associated with two horrible gallery events. She said that she finally had something of her own...to provide for herself. I just hate that someone took that away from her.”

“Me too,” he mumbled, kissing Liam’s head and moving to lay him in his crib. He smirked softly down at his son and watched the baby sleep.

“So how’s it feel?” you asked as you moved to hug him.

“Surreal,” he replied, hugging you back with one arm, eyes still on his son. “I love him so much. I didn’t think I could love anyone this much. I can’t take my eyes off him.”

“It gets better every single day,” you promised. “Even the hardest days are good, even if they don’t feel that way in the moment.”

“Rafael,” Helena said, poking her head into Liam’s room. “Come on, love, why don’t you eat something and get some sleep while Liam naps.”

Your brother nodded, using a finger to stroke Liam’s cheek one more time before he walked out of the nursery.

You followed your brother back to the living room where Roxie and Izzy were sitting.

“Rafael, did you hear about the gallery?” Roxie said with furrowed brows. “That’s so horrible.”

“Yeah, I’m so sorry, Izzy,” he replied, smiling thankfully when Helena handed him a plate of food. He sat beside Izzy and began to eat his food. “Don’t worry, you’ll get back on your feet. I believe in you.”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying,” Izzy mumbled with a shrug. “I really don’t know. How many chances can they give me in the art world? Got any scotch?”

“This is Rafael’s house, of course there’s scotch,” you said with a laugh.

“Not anymore, we kept the apartment dry while Roxie was pregnant and I already finished the emergency bottle a week ago,” he replied. “Juice, milk...I think we might have some ginger ale in the fridge.”

“Oh damn,” Izzy said with a frown. “Where’s the nearest CVS?”

“About a block and half over,” Rafael answered.

“I can run out for you,” Helena offered, smiling. “What would you like?”

“There’s a wine with a picture of a horse on it? It’s really cheap but it’s my favorite. It should be nine dollars and forty-three cents after tax,” Izzy informed.

“She gets it a lot,” you teased.

“I can go, Helena. You should sit, you’ve been up almost as long as I have,” Rafael said, putting his food down on the coffee table and standing.

“Not a chance in hell, look at you it looks like you already haven’t slept,” you said as you stood. “Helena and I can go, we can pick up stuff for you and Roxie so you guys don’t have to worry about groceries and stuff.”

“Oh, I already did the shopping yesterday, but yes, Rafael, sit. You’re exhausted,” Helena insisted. “Y/N and I will take care of it. Roxanne, darling, would you like anything?”

“No, thank you, mum,” Roxie said softly before standing. “I have to finish my notes to send over to Jacob.” She moved into the other room.

“She’s working right now?” you asked, worried expression on your face.

“Yeah, she’s gotta start shooting in three weeks, so she’s just trying to get organized,” Rafael replied.

“She just gave birth, that is a lot of emotional stuff and a serious physical event...I just don’t want her to push too hard. I rested at least four days.”

“Well, you know Roxie.. everyone’s different,” Rafael replied, shrugging it off. “I got up with Liam last night so she could sleep.”

“Well let her know if she wants to talk, I’m here, okay? Giving birth is heavy stuff,” you said softly.

“I will,” Rafael answered.

“Is her vagina, like, super loose now?” Izzy asked curiously.

Rafael knitted his brows. “Izzy, really? Come on, that’s my wife.”

“Well speaking as someone who’s never going to have kids, I consider it a scientific question. Was yours?” She turned her head to you.

“Oh yeah, definitely. It’s like an extra purse for me now,” you answered sarcastically. “None of your business. You wanna know? Have a baby.”

“No, thanks,” Izzy replied with a grin. “I’m good with being the cool aunt who can give the kid back to mom and dad when they start getting cranky.”

“Right then, wine with a horse on it,” Helena said, looking to you. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” you stood and followed her out.

“Go get some rest while you can,” Izzy said with a smile. “I just wanna watch the sleeping baby, I’ll stay out of your way. I just don’t wanna be alone, ya know?”

“You don’t have to be alone, I’m right here,” Rafael answered as the door closed behind you and Helena. “Are you okay? Really.”

“No,” she replied, blinking back frustrated tears. “I’m angry, and so tired of crime-themed obstacles straight out of a soap opera. I mean come on, a shooting at my first gallery and my second one blows up?” She couldn’t help but laugh in that moment. “I didn’t come here to overshadow the best thing to ever happen to you. I want you to enjoy all of it. I have Y/N to sulk with. You just had a baby, nothing should be more important.”

She wanted Rafael to be focused on his incredible moment. There would be plenty of time for her to mourn her gallery.

“Don’t worry about me, I wanna be here for you and, you know what? It probably feels like everything eventually goes wrong, but things like this are the things that shape us into who we will become. It’s the part of struggle that makes us grow and gives us strength,” he replied. “I know that’s really easy for me to sit here and say, but I promise you’ll find your groove. It gets better.”

She gave him a hug and frowned up at him. “I worked so hard on those paintings, especially the one of papi. I put my heart and soul into that piece. It just hurts. I feel physical pain when I think about the gallery. Like I’m dying,” she mumbled.

“I know,” he replied. “Just don’t give up, okay? That’s the worst thing you can do.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just...frustrating,” she said. “Of course I want to give up after that shit.”

“I know, and that may seem like the easiest thing to do, but if art is what makes you happy then you should fight for it.”

She nodded as the baby cried in the other room. “Roxie will get him right? Or do you want me to get him?”

“No, I got him,” he replied, standing and going into Liam’s room to get him before he came back into the living room. “You wanna hold him again?”

She grinned and took him from Rafael. “Hello, beautiful little boy. You know what? You have the best dad on the planet. You are a very lucky baby.” She rocked the baby. “He’s so tiny cute he almost makes me want one. Almost,” she said with a giggle.

“Maybe someday you’ll have one,” he replied.

“No thank you,” Izzy said with a laugh. “My art is what I want my life dedicated to. I’m very happy with my aunt status.”

“That’s okay, too,” he replied. “Are you gonna take a break for a while or keep painting?”

“I’m gonna keep painting, make stuff even better than before. Barbas don’t give up, right?”

“That’s right,” he replied.

The baby finally calmed and she handed him back to Rafael. “Thank you for talking with me.”

“Of course,” he replied, taking Liam and kissing his forehead.

Roxie moved out of the other room towards the kitchen, on the phone. “I was looking at Zuritech and it will cut insurance costs significantly while still offering our employees dental and health. Plus they’re older insurers, Jacob, I trust their track record.”

“Working mom already,” Izzy mused as she watched Roxie.

“I don’t understand why she insists on doing everyone else’s job. It doesn’t make any sense to me at all,” he replied.

“She’s a massive control freak,” Izzy said casually. “Honestly sometimes I think giving her a business might be too much of a power trip for her.”

“Maybe,” he mumbled, snuggling Liam.

“Still, she should probably rest a little more. She just had a baby last night.” Izzy watched Roxie pour herself some juice.

“Try telling her that,” Rafael replied before he looked at Roxie as she walked past him. “Honey, aren’t you tired?”

“Well of course I’m tired, I just had a baby,” she answered with a smirk. “Jacob, I’ll call you back.” She ended the call and sipped her juice. “Why, did you need something?”

“Maybe you need something? Like some sleep perhaps?” he replied. “I’m sure Jacob is competent enough to do his own job.”

“Jacob is plenty competent, I just happened across somewhere cheaper for our insurance.” She looked over to the baby in Rafael’s arms. “I can take him for a bit,” she offered. “I’d like to take him.” She moved over, going and grabbing Liam, putting him against her chest. “Hi Liam,” she said softly, patting his back.

“I don’t think you should even be thinking about work, but that’s just me,” Izzy replied.

“It’s bad enough you have to start filming in a few weeks,” Rafael added softly, putting a hand on her knee.

“We can talk about this privately, please? I don’t really like involving your sisters.”

“Because we’re not family?” Izzy snarked.

“Hey,” Rafael interjected, looking at Izzy.

Roxie looked at her and sighed. “You know that’s not what I meant...” She leaned over and kissed Rafael’s cheek. “I promise, we can talk about it later.”

“Okay,” he replied.

“If me being here is a problem, I’ll go,” Izzy said, crossing her arms.

“No, no,” Roxie shook her head. “Of course it’s not a problem, Izzy. We love having you here, really. I’m sorry, I guess I’m just a little cranky.”

“A little?”

The door opened and you and Helena came back in.

“We’re back with wine and snacks,” you said excitedly, handing the bottle to your sister.

“Oh good, alcohol,” Izzy said, twisting the cap open and drinking straight from the bottle as Rafael looked on.

“Classy,” he said with a smirk.

“Yeah, well when your gallery blows up, you can judge me,” she teased.

“Fair enough,” he replied in a chuckle.

“I’ll take a little of that wine to toast to our big brother,” you said as you smiled at Rafael. “And one of my best friends.” You looked to Roxie. “Congratulations on the adorable baby, we cannot wait to watch him grow up and see how incredible he is.” You took a swig of the wine before you and Izzy both hugged Rafael tight before going to hug Roxie too.

“I love you two weirdos,” Rafael said in a chuckle.

“We love you too,” both you and Izzy replied simultaneously.

[kpopfanfictrash]

De-Lovely

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Content Contributors: @daegusoftboys , for her wonderful and amazing moodboard

Pairing: Reader / Taehyung 

Rating: 18+ (explicit sex, dirty talk, slight degradation)

Word Count: 11,630

Summary:  We’re all running from something. Whether it’s a painful past, uncertain future or murky present. One of my favorite things about theatre, is that for an hour, maybe two – you can escape. You don’t have to be yourself, if you don’t want to. Better yet, you can find yourself in someone else.

“Heads up!”

I look up, eyes widening when a snowball comes flying towards my face.

Someone tackles into me from the side, knocking me breathless to the ground. I gasp, elbow hitting at an awkward angle. My limbs sprawled, entangled in someone else’s as I groan, rolling off to the side.

My books lie scattered and I reach for the nearest one, hand accidentally brushing another in the process. I look up in surprise, meeting warm, brown eyes of the guy who saved me.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, giving a sheepish smile. The guy pushes his glasses up, handing over a book. “I didn’t mean to tackle you – I just heard that guy saying he was packing his snowballs with ice. Something about an aerodynamic advantage.”

“It’s alright.” I sigh, shaking snow from the center of my book. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

He grins, eyes crinkling. “That can be dangerous on this campus. I’m Jimin,” he offers, extending his hand.

“Y/N,” I shake it. “Thank you for the save.”

“No problem.” Jimin falls into step beside me, walking through the snow-covered quad. “Where are you headed?”

“Student Center,” I nod at the ivy-covered building. “I work part-time at the front store. Got to pay for that Statistics Masters somehow.”

Jimin laughs. “I understand. And wow, statistics – that’s so interesting,” he grins. “Why don’t you analyze me?”

My eyebrows lift. “Analyze you?”

Jimin nods, smile wide. “Tell me about myself – using numbers, of course.”

I glance over, taking him in. Jimin wears a long, black peacoat. Stylish, though I note with amusement that the pockets are still sewn shut. He’s wearing red mittens and a red beanie, square black frames low on his nose. Jimin’s backpack hangs by one strap, and I spot an ID badge hanging inside.

My gaze returns to his. “You just started dating someone,” I tell him. “You’re also a science teaching assistant.”

Jimin’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?” he gapes.

I smile, seeing that I’m right. “The pockets on your jacket,” I point out. “They’re sewn shut, which means it’s new. Since Christmas just happened, I figure it was a gift. Someone who knows your wardrobe well, knowing it would match your mittens – a girlfriend. Plus,” I add, adjusting my purse. “You have a hickey on your neck.”

Jimin blushes, adjusting his collar. “Spot on,” he laughs, coming to a stop outside the Student Union. “I just started dating my girlfriend before the holidays. How did you know I’m an assistant professor?”

“Well,” I smile. “That was more difficult. There’s an ID badge in your backpack, meaning you’re employed by the University – but you seem young. Logically, you’re more likely to be an assistant professor than a full one.”

Jimin raises both eyebrows. “True. Go on, what about science?”

I shrug. “That was lucky. Arts and Letters and Business are the biggest programs at Bangtan University. Which means you’re most likely in either those – but I don’t recognize you from Business.” I tilt my head. “That leaves Arts and Letters, which skews heavily female – aside from Professor Jeon, of course. No,” I shake my head. “You’re not Arts and Letters. Which made me guess Science.”

Jimin grins, clapping his hands. “Truly amazing. And correct,” he adds.

I offer a bow. “Yes, yes. I’m here until Thursday.”

“Glad I saved you from that snowball,” Jimin grins. “The world would have lost a valuable asset.”

“Thanks, Assistant Professor Jimin,” I call, walking up the steps. “I’ll keep that in mind, next time I feel down.”

Jimin laughs, turning away. “See you around, Y/N.”

I push open the doors to the building. The entryway is old, with mossy green carpet and high windows. Polished wood and fancy armchairs scattered about. I turn to the right, stepping through bronzed doors to enter the student bookstore. Checking the clock over the door, I see it’s 4:00 PM on the dot – just in time for my shift. I smile brightly at the manager, scooting behind the counter. “Happy Monday,” I call, swiping my time card. “How’s today treating you?”

Luis looks up, his expression bleak. “Jenny is sick, the bookstore sent a busload of tourists our way during lunch and the cappuccino machine in the staff room is broken.”

I wince, pushing hair behind one ear. “That bad, huh?”

Exhaling, Luis pushes to stand. “It will be fine, we’ll get past it. What time do you work until tonight?”

“10:00,” I answer, bending down to open the register. I check the bills against the total, nodding when the numbers match. “I have my first exam of the semester Friday. Can you image? It’s been what, two weeks?”

Luis snorts, adjusting his manager button. “Typical. This is why I hate the institution.”

“Luis, you are the institution,” I point out, barely able to stifle my grin.

“I know. I hate that, too.”

Laughing, I turn away. The store is quiet, well off the beaten path of tourists. The bookstore on Main Ave. gets the most traffic, being the first building people see upon entering. Only by getting out of their cars, walking across two quads and entering the student union can they find us.

It means our shifts aren’t taxing, just dull. I open my stats notes on the table, glancing down at them every now and again to memorize. I pause to greet those who enter, ringing them up and sending them on their way. Several hours later I’m still staring at my sheet, recalculating an equation to have a lesser p-value. The confidence interval should really be 95% and right now it’s only 90%. That leaves room for 5% error on either side and – exhaling, I study it again.

“Excuse me.”

Blinking, I realize someone is standing before me. Thankfully, Luis has stepped out to use the restroom and he doesn’t see. Doesn’t see my surprise, the stranger before me frowning, his foot tapping with impatience.

“Sorry!” I exclaim, pushing my notes to the side. “How can I help you?”

The man is wearing sunglasses. Sunglasses indoors, hair mussed as though he’s just rolled out of bed. He heaves a great sigh, looking over his lenses. “Yes,” he glances sideways. “It’s me.”

I blink back. “Uh.” I don’t know how to respond, so I wave. “Hello, you.”

The man winks, sliding his glasses up his nose. “Right.” He pulls off his leather gloves, laying them one by one on the counter. “I’d like five of the uh, what do you call them? T-shirts.”

I’m aware I’m staring when Luis re-enters the shop. Snapping to attention, I turn to the table behind me. “Right. We have the standard University logo in three different colors. Which would you prefer?” I offer, laying out one of each.

The man turns each over in his hand, then shrugs. “The green, I guess. I’ll take five.”

I nod, busying myself with wrapping. Placing them one by one in the box, then the bag. “Do you need anything else?” I ask him, keeping my smile frozen in place.

The man scans the shop. “From here? I don’t think so.”

Choosing not to reply, I ring him up. Typing in numbers with one hand as I continue to smile. “That will be 42.39,” I tell him.

“Alright.” Pulling out his credit card, he sets this down on the counter. “Here you go.”

The man glances over his shoulder, arching a brow. He’s very handsome. With a strong jaw, hands and the kind of smile capable of making girls weak. I can’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses but I imagine they’re just as lovely as the rest of him. The man turns to face me, smile broad.

“Here you go,” I mutter, handing him back his card and his bag.

“Thanks,” the man waves.

He doesn’t say anything as he leaves and I shrug, allowing the interaction to fall from mind. I’m rearranging my notes on the counter when I notice Luis staring. “What?” I ask, glancing up. There’s just the window to the quad, frosted with snow. “What’s wrong?”

Luis stares at me, then the door. “That was Professor Kim Taehyung.”

“Oh.” I close the register drawer. “Alright.”

Luis’ jaw drops. “Do you not know him? He starred in a Broadway musical at 18, won a Tony at 19. Composed a Grammy Award winning song, directed a Tony award-winning musical – no? None of this ringing any bells?”

I pause, then shrug. “Sorry, I don’t know much about theatre.”

Luis lets out a choked laugh. Then he looks at the counter. “Shit,” Luis groans, grabbing the thin, leather wallet. “Professor Kim left his wallet. Y/N, you have to go give it to him.”

“What?” I squeak. “Why me?”

“Because,” Luis pulls me out from behind the register. “One manager must remain in the store at all times. Now go give it back.”

Despite my grumbling, I pull on my coat. Shoving my arms through the sleeves and grabbing the wallet from the counter. I dash outside, pulling on my hat as I quint into the cold. The same guys are still throwing snowballs, so I take pointed steps around them. Spotting Taehyung at the far end of the quad, his scarf visible from here.

I break into a sprint when I hit pavement, not caring how stupid I look as I run. “Excuse me,” I mutter. “Pardon me!”

I push past students and professors, Taehyung’s head bobbing closer. He's looking down at his phone, not paying attention to his surroundings.

I skid to a stop beside him. “Professor,” I say, touching his elbow. “I just –”

Taehyung grabs my arm, dragging me sideways. “Not here,” he declares, pulling me into an overhang. “Too many people.” Taehyung whips off his sunglasses, placing them in the front pocket of his coat. “How can I help you?” he asks, smile dazzling. “Did you want an autograph? I’m sorry, I don’t usually sign on campus.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Uh, actually –”

“Fine.” Taehyung heaves a sigh. “One autograph. Who should I make it out to?”

I blink up at him. “How about this,” I say, slapping his wallet into his outstretched hand. “You take your wallet and write a note to yourself, reminding not to leave money in public places.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen with surprise – then he laughs. “I’ll do just that,” he grins, pocketing the wallet. “Huh.” He exhales, running a hand through his hair.

I’m already turning away, though. “Take care,” I call back, pulling my hood up around my face.

Taehyung steps before me, blocking my exit. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

I look up, meeting his gaze. “Should I?”    

Taehyung pauses mid-answer. “I don’t know,” he admits. “An interesting question. I suppose not.”

“I just don’t enjoy the fine arts,” I shrug, starting to turn away.

“Whoa, okay,” Taehyung laughs, grabbing my arm. “This is more serious than I thought.”

“What is?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at his hand. “The only problem I see, is that you’re blocking my way back to work.”

“Ah,” Taehyung exhales. His face is ridiculously handsome – expressive and open when he smiles. “A workaholic, I should have known.” Taehyung scans my body. “You’re wearing a watch, your shirt is tucked into your pants. You were running after me, but you remembered to bring your hat. You live your life by the numbers, like comfort more than risk and are alienated by the ambiguity of theatre.”

My mouth drops. “That’s not true,” I reply – although it is. I’ll be damned if I let him know that, though.

Taehyung smirks. “You looked down and you touched your face, which means you’re lying.” At my surprised expression, he smiles. “I’ve spent years reading facial expressions – it comes in handy, during auditions.”

I roll my eyes at this. “Look, I’m sorry that I didn’t recognize you – but that doesn’t give you the right to insult me.”

Taehyung lifts both hands. “Insult you? I wasn’t trying to insult, merely observe.”

I step closer, crossing my arms. “An insulting observation.”

His mouth twitches, as though trying not to laugh. “Touché. Might I ask,” Taehyung’s voice drops. “Why then, do you not like the theatre?”

Staring back, I find myself at a loss for words. The wind blows through Taehyung’s hair, dark and messy. His eyes are clear though, focused and it’s hard to think about anything else. He has the voice of a natural singer, an actor, a performer. This observation is enough to ground me. “I’m a statistics major,” I tell him, turning away. “I like math, numbers, facts that aren’t open to interpretation. Theatre is the opposite of that. Anyways,” I pause, searching his face. “I really have to go. Goodbye, Kim Taehyung.”

Before he can respond, I leave. Turning into the wind, moving across the quad. I don’t look back to see if he follows. I doubt Taehyung cares that much – he’s probably already replaced his sunglasses and walked away. I don’t know why I look back, why I turn around when I reach the doors of the Student Union.

Taehyung is still standing there. He’s watching and upon seeing me looking, he waves. Taehyung’s shoulders shake and I think that he’s laughing as he turns to walk away. Continuing across the quad until turning a corner and disappears.

I enter the Student Union, nodding at Luis when he asks if I returned the wallet. “Yep,” I nod, moving behind the counter. “Professor Kim has his wallet.”

I fall silent, staring at the register. My heart pounds, drowning out all sensible thought. I should have been nicer to him. I was rude, saying I didn’t like his profession. That I found it little more than lies and smokescreens. I do though – that much is true. But it’s not Taehyung’s fault that I feel this way.

It’s his.

My fingers slide against the countertop, trying to brush away his memories. My ex, the person I thought was the love of my life. I loved watching him perform. Loved seeing him onstage, lit by spotlight with fire in his eyes. I went to each play, recital, musical and stage. I was there for him before, during and after his performances. Unfortunately – he wasn’t there for me.

Or rather, he was there sometimes. The rest of the time, he was there for other women. Fucking them backstage, in their beds, occasionally in ours.

We’d been dating for nearly two years when I walked in on it. I remember saying his name aloud. Saying it like a question, as if he weren’t really him and I wasn’t really me. As though I were floating, somewhere far above it all. Staring, unable to make sense of what I was seeing. No sense of shame as I watched their naked bodies.

She noticed me first, she saw me and shrieked. Pushing him off while she tried to leave. I just continued to stand there, motionless as he panicked. That was the first time I saw him anything less than in control. It was also the first time I realized he was a liar. A practiced one – a performer. My ex’s life was a stage, and he so easily felt in command of that.

That was when I swore to myself – no more actors. No musicians, no singers, no performers. The theatre has held a certain nausea since, but I couldn’t tell Taehyung that. No matter how open, how earnest he was, he’s a performer as well. Kim Taehyung is just like the rest – which means he can’t be trusted.

I shake my head then, looking up from the counter. Despite my unease, I needn’t worry. This is my last semester at Bangtan University – it’s not likely I’ll ever see Kim Taehyung again.

Two weeks later, I’m walking home from class.

Mentally reviewing a test from the day, theorizing if I could have answered problem number forty-seven a different way. I’m so concentrated on the question, my potential misstep, I don’t notice him walk into place beside me.

“You’re wrong,” Taehyung grins, by way of introduction.

I jump, startled at his appearance.

Taehyung wears a long, maroon peacoat. Unbuttoned to reveal a navy blue blazer and white button-down. A crimson scarf is looped around his neck and he has on the same, leather gloves. There’s a coffee cup in one hand and upon seeing my eyes return to his, Taehyung grins.

“I wasn’t checking you out,” I mutter, facing forward.

Taehyung’s grin widens. “I wasn’t asking.”

We walk this way for several minutes, until my curiosity overwhelms me. “Why am I wrong?” I ask.

Taehyung takes a small sip from his coffee. “Statistics,” he declares. “They’re rarely observed in black and white.”

My gaze lifts. “Oh?”

Taehyung nods. “Isn’t that the whole point – interpretation? I could give you a table of numbers and tell you it’s the average temperature by month of Bangtan Univeristy. Of course, if I were mistaken and the table was actually average rainfall – that’s a completely different meaning.”

Despite myself, the corner of my mouth lifts. “True.”

“So,” Taehyung nods, his voice solemn. “I will accept your apology.”

“Funny,” I retort. “I don’t remember offering one.”

Taehyung just smiles. “I’m waiting,” he sing-songs, arching a brow.

“I – no!” I laugh. “I’m sorry that I was rude. I know theatre is your life’s work and that you’re very proud of it, but – how I feel is how I feel.”

Taehyung stops on the sidewalk. Grabbing my arm, turning me to face him. “No,” Taehyung raises a brow. “Allow me correct a very serious misunderstanding. I am not proud of my work – I adore it. I live it, breathe it, cannot be parted from the music of my soul. To hear you desecrate it so,” Taehyung winces, clasping a hand over his heart, “is nothing short of crippling. I must beg you reconsider.”

I wait until he’s done. “Is that it?” I ask, arching a brow.

Taehyung’s face rearranges to normalcy. “Okay, you’re not dramatic. That’s fine,” he nods, serious. “We can work on that.”

“We?”

“You and me. Us.” Taehyung smiles. “Together.”

It’s very irritating, how my heart flutters at his words. Taehyung’s enthusiasm is so contagious, smile so warm that it’s hard not to lean in. It’s hard to remind myself it’s an act. Taehyung said so himself – he does not know where the stage ends and he begins.

“Yeah, no.” I continue to walk. “I think I’ll just be me, and you be you.”

It surprises me then, when Taehyung follows. “Let’s try something else,” he says. “What was the last musical you saw?”

I continue to stare straight ahead. “Anything Goes.”

When I say the name, the memories come rushing back. Him, on stage. Kissing her. Kissing her and now the two of them, entangled in sheets. Our bed, his body – I shake my head. No.

“You didn’t like Anything Goes?” Taehyung groans. “No – ‘you’re the top?’ No – ‘you’re the coliseum?’ I’m sorry. I guess tap dancing, show-stopping numbers and luxurious high seas romance isn’t for everyone.”

He sounds so offended, I can’t help but laugh and the blatant hurt of that memory starts to fade. “The tap dancing was the worst part,” I object. “How unlikely is it, to be sailing across the ocean and bam! –"

“Ship hit an iceberg?” 

“No. Bam! Everyone realizes they can tap! It would never happen.”

Taehyung snorts. “Okay, how about another tactic? Forget musicals.” When I look surprised, Taehyung presses his hands to his lips. “Believe me,” he mutters. “Just saying this pains me. But forget them,” he waves his hand. “They’re forgotten, don’t exist. What about concerts? Musicians in general?”

I shrug, letting my shoulders fall. My apartment building is in view and I slow my steps, trying not to be obvious. “I don’t know,” I allow. “I suppose I like music, it’s nice background noise.”

Taehyung freezes and for a second, I think I’ve broke him. “Background… background noise? Nope,” Taehyung shakes his head, loosening his scarf from around his neck. “Unacceptable.”

I smile, coming to a stop outside my building. “Well,” my mouth lifts. “I don’t know what to say. This is my place.”

Taehyung glances over my shoulder at the door. “Right. Well.” He sighs, breath fogging in the air before us. “This isn’t over,” he warns, eyebrows raised.

I laugh, rummaging in my purse for keys. “Okay, Professor Kim. Whatever you say.”

As I turn to leave, his hand slides around my wrist. I look up, startled to see how close Taehyung is. His eyes are earnest. “Why don’t you like theatre?” he asks again. “Aside from your bullshit, ‘it’s not structured,’ excuse.”

I can’t look away. “I – I have my reasons.”

Taehyung peers back. “Usually when someone says that,” he allows, softly letting go of my arm. “It means they’ve been hurt.”

I remain silent.

Taehyung nods, almost to himself. “I understand that.” 

I almost tell him.

Almost open my mouth to explain – but then stop. Taehyung is a stranger. A very attractive one, sure, that I can’t seem to get out of my head. One whose hand on my arm sends warmth through my body, whose conversation these past minutes has been the most interesting I’ve had in a long time.

None of that matters though, because this is just a role for him. This is Taehyung, acting a potential love interest. Just him, putting on a show and so I slowly turn away. “Goodnight, Taehyung,” I say.

I hear him exhale behind me. Feel his eyes linger, as I walk inside. When I reach my apartment, I toss my bag on the counter. Collapsing onto my couch and resting my head on the pillows. I stare over at my empty television screen.

Flicking the power button, I turn it on. Then off again, not knowing what to watch.

Not knowing what to think, because all I can think of is Taehyung.

In the following weeks, I don’t see him.

It’s not surprising, I suppose. There’s no reason I would see him, given our separate professions. In his absence though, I end up looking him up on the internet.

Just the once.

Okay, twice.

And then a couple more times.

Kim Taehyung, visiting Professor from Bangtan National Opera House. It’s exactly as Luis said: Taehyung landed the lead in a Broadway musical at age eighteen, won Best Male Actor when he was nineteen. After that, he took time off and penned a Grammy winning song before reentering the Broadway scene as a Director. After his second Tony, Taehyung began conducting at the National Opera House. His first stint at Bangtan University was as visiting lecturer, but he was in such high demand Bangtan Univeristy ended up bringing him on full time.

Taehyung comes from a small town in the middle of nowhere. He was thrust into the spotlight at a young age. No real family to speak of, since they’ve never traveled to any of his performances. I read this line over and over, struggling to make sense of it. His parents have never even seen him perform.

It’s this, opposed to his many awards, which runs through my mind the rest of the week. Try as I might, I can’t seem to push this fact aside.

Other than that, I try not to think much about Kim Taehyung. I do a pretty good job of it, until I come home Thursday night and find an envelope waiting at my door. I pause, glancing up and down the hallway. My apartment is on floor seventeen – which means it’s rare for me to get pamphlets or that sort of thing.

There’s no message on the outside to explain, just my name. Scrawled in hasty cursive, elegant in its simplicity. I bend to pick it up, unlocking my door and pushing inside. Shrugging from my jacket crossing into my kitchen.

When I open up the envelope, a single ticket falls out.

I stare for a long moment, then open the envelope further. This time I see the note, scribbled on loose-leaf paper.

Dear Y/N,

We’re all running from something. Whether it’s a painful past, uncertain future or murky present. One of my favorite things about theater, is that for an hour or two – you can escape. You don’t have to be yourself if you don’t want to be. Better yet, you can find yourself in someone else.

I find myself over and over on that stage. Part of the reason I perform, is to allow others to see me as well.

I want you to see me.

Kim Taehyung

Slowly, I flip over the ticket. It’s for tomorrow night, Friday at 8:00 PM. One ticket to Bangtan University’s Fine Arts Mid-Semester Showcase. My fingers slide against paper, breath coming quick and uneven. I haven’t set foot in an auditorium since my ex.

I hate how much he hurt me. Objectively, I know it’s him that I’m mad at, not the theatre. Objectively, I know it’s his infidelity which hurt, not the stage. It’s so hard to separate, though – all mixed together with the sound of his voice, the feel of velvet seats and song. I hate avoiding the spots which once were ours, the people we once shared – all because I want to avoid the person I used to be. That naïve, foolish girl who couldn’t see she was alone.

Couldn’t see she was unloved and when I realized, when I saw - it broke me.

I turn Taehyung’s ticket over in my hand. Staring blankly at the letters on the back. Then at his letter, open before me.

My hands fist in my pockets. Fingers sliding over his note, folded into squares. It’s something I do when I’m nervous, fold things over and over. Tracing and retracing until the edges are smooth. Until I feel the creases beneath my fingers, as though the paper could tear at any moment.

I take a breath. Someone jostles my shoulder, forcing me forward. “Sorry,” I apologize, even though they’re at fault. The stairs of Wincest Performing Arts Center curve upwards, mostly bare but for the snow melting in the corners.

It’s 7:55 PM, which means most people have already entered. By now they’re already seated and the doors in the lobby are likely close to closing. In five minutes, the show will begin. In five minutes, I won’t be able to enter. Then my decision will be made for me.

For a moment, the thought brings me relief. I can just say I was late, and that will be that.

Then that relief disappears. Shame and anger unfurling in my stomach. This isn’t me, I’m no coward. I can do this, I can enter this auditorium and I sit facing the stage. I can watch this performance and not think about him.

I can turn tonight into something new.

Shoulders squared, I walk in at 7:57 PM. The lights in the lobby are already flickering – I mumble apologetically to the usher while she shows me to my seat. I’m close, sitting in seat F11. It’s six rows from the front, the exact center of the auditorium. Clutching my program tight to my chest, I slide into my seat. Apologizing to the people on either side, at I collapse into the small, velvet seat.

From the corner of my eye, I think I see the curtain move. When I look over, there’s no one there. I shake my head, pulling out my program to squint at the page. It’s the mid-semester recital, meaning every single Fine Arts student auditioned for one of the fifteen spots. All performance arts – acting, singing, musical instruments and more.

But – no. There are sixteen acts listed. Skimming the page, I move from the first song down to the bottom. I swallow, when I see performer number 16.

Kim Taehyung, Professor of Fine Arts …………….. De-Lovely, Anything Goes

My heart pounds, too loud in my chest. De-Lovely is a song from Anything Goes. My eyelids flutter, as I try to block out the memories. Struggle to keep them, and him at bay.

Then my eyes open.

Strangely, when I think of that song – I don’t think of him at all.

The first notes of a violin start. I look up, to where a violinist has entered. The woman is small, frail as she nestles her instrument into the crook of her neck. Bow gliding smoothly over the strings like water and I force myself to relax, hands tight in my pockets. I run my finger over the edge of Taehyung’s note, a nervous tic.

I want you to see me.

The next act is a monologue, a soliloquy from Act 2, Scene ii of Hamlet. A spotlight replaces the bright stage lights of the violinist. A male enters, making forlorn eye contact with the audience.

“Now, I am alone,” he says starkly.

Sometime during his recitation, I move to the edge of my seat. Staring, enraptured at his stage. I forgot how good it feels, to let go. Losing myself, finding myself in another person. I come back to myself at the end, richer than before. That’s the beauty of theatre, why I used to enjoy watching so much.

Each performance is more beautiful than the last. I lose myself in each one, vision blurring as I return over and over to my body. I travel to 1881 Paris in the audience of the Opéra Populaire. Lose myself to the strings of Mozart’s String Quintet k 593. I travel with Odysseus, visit late nineteenth century Germany. Half the time, I’m not certain if my eyes are open or shut – only that I see.

My eyes are open when he steps onstage.

Taehyung is dressed simply. Wearing an all-black, well-fitted tuxedo. He grips the microphone with one hand, exhaling as the first notes of piano sound.

Taehyung lifts his gaze.

His voice is low, stirring and I’m lost at the end of the first line. He sings the song slower than normal, with no comedic effect. He asks each phrase at the audience. To the seats. To me, I think. His gaze roams the crowd and when he sees seat F11 filled, a small smile lifts his lips. Taehyung takes the microphone in one hand, pulling it from the stand.

He moves forward, continuing the song. His voice soars along the rafters, winding through the seats. Flaming sentimentality to being and I don’t know when it was I moved to the edge of my seat.

Taehyung sings with pure joy, the presence of a man falling in love. Hesitant, unsure, excited and willing. I feel each emotion flitting across his face – which terrifies me. I see myself in him. I see Taehyung, the way he wants to be seen. I see everything, too much and it scares me.

I sit back down, sinking into my seat while I stare at my knees. I concentrate on breathing, the rise and fall of my chest. People break into applause around me, the song coming to an end. I push myself to stand along with them, clapping softly. I manage to smile – I think Taehyung’s gaze finds mine in the audience. He mouths something, though I can’t understand.

Taehyung disappears offstage, the lights of the theatre slowly rising. People are buzzing, their excitement obvious. I hear one woman say to her husband that she never thought she’d hear Kim Taehyung live. Never thought she’d hear him sing, and so – she stops talking then, and I hear the sudden sound of a handkerchief being blown.

I don’t know what to do. I want to stay and congratulate Taehyung, but standing here like this is suffocating. Claustrophobic with memories, I see my past self waiting at that stage door. I see my ex exit, see him wrap his arms around me. See me thinking it was just makeup and hairspray making him smell like that.

I warp my arms tightly about myself, convincing myself that I’m okay. This is okay.

I am not okay.

I turn, halfway to the end of the row when I see Taehyung enter the audience. He’s wearing a loose, white shirt. Tucked into black trousers, his hair slightly mussed and sweaty. He grins at the multiple people who approach him, bowing and accepting their compliments. He’s surrounded by his people, surrounded by his admirers.

Of course. This is what my ex would do – emerge from the side door, already speaking to someone else. He’d wave at me to stay put, because he’d be right back. Then he’d disappear, leaving me waiting until he was ready to leave.

Taehyung looks up.

When he sees me there, a smile breaks over his face. He mouths something and this time, I catch it.

Stay.

I’m amazed at the speed Taehyung disentangles himself. Smiling politely to those around him, pushing his way past the arms of friends, performers and strangers. When he arrives at me, he pushes his hair back from his eyes. “You came,” Taehyung smiles.

I nod. “I did. I, uh – wanted to thank you. For the ticket,” I clarify.

Taehyung arches an eyebrow. “There’s no need to thank me. I’m happy you came.”

I frown. “How did you know where I live?”

“I, well.” Taehyung blushes, rubbing the back of his neck. “I may have asked a favor from a certain member of the administration. I asked if he could give me your address, so I could mail something.”

My jaw drops. “That has to be illegal.”

“I’m sorry!” Taehyung offers a lopsided grin. “At first I was just going to drop it off at your work but – where’s the fun in that?”

Eyes narrowing, I stare back at him. Stare for longer than I mean to, because I’m suddenly unsure of what to say. There are so many things I want to tell him. My anger fades, remembering his performance. His singing was beautiful – but of course he knows that. I was moved – Taehyung doesn’t know that, but it would be inappropriate to say. It would also be inappropriate to tell him I remembered myself, watching him. Remembered the parts of myself I left behind, saw ones I wanted back.

I say none of this, thogh. Instead, I smile. “I saw you,” I say softly.

I don’t clarify, but Taehyung’s gaze darkens. He exhales, chest rising and falling as I watch. I’m caught up in my thoughts, caught up in his spell, caught in his eyes and all the words he might say.

“Taehyung!”

Someone pushes past, pulling Taehyung into a hug. It’s not someone I recognize, their nametag scrawled with Jung Hoseok. He’s with a woman, the kind of woman it’s hard not to be envious of. She holds herself regally, staring at Hoseok with pure love and adoration. Adoration echoed in his eyes, as he looks her way.

“Taehyung-ie,” Hoseok grins, ignoring Taehyung’s groan at his nickname. “You were amazing tonight! Stupendous! Superb! This is the girl I was telling you about.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, turning his smile sideways.

I take a step backwards, sensing I’m no longer needed. Or maybe I am – since I like to think that Taehyung had more to say. Like to think he’d want to say more – but I don’t give him the chance.

Instead I leave, slipping out as quietly as I came. Outside, snowflakes drift down from the sky. I scowl at the sight, since it’s currently the middle of March. Spring should be coming, not this prolonged continuation of winter. Hurrying down the steps, I walk the remaining few blocks to my apartment in silence.

Silence but – I reach into my pocket, pulling out headphones.

I slip them onto my ears and play De-Lovely.

Someone is knocking at my door.

I push back my covers, drowsy and incoherent as I stumble from bed. There’s music playing, which makes no sense. Maybe I left my iPhone on before I went to sleep. Whomever is at my door continues to knock though, the sound loud and annoying as I make my way down the hallway.

I throw open the door. “Who the f –"

Taehyung strides through the door and kisses me.

My words fade, too surprised to react. That is, until his bottom lip nudges between my own. Opening my mouth, as his hands tangle in my hair. Taehyung exhales into my lips, his breath soft. “Hi.”

I can’t think, can’t feel beyond his presence. “Hi.”

Taehyung just stares at me, his eyes darkening. When he lowers his mouth, I meet him half-way. My kiss is just as hungry, just as aching as his is. Taehyung backs me into the wall, hands skimming over my body. He’s dressed in his tuxedo from earlier, and I shove his jacket down from his shoulders.

Taehyung’s lips burn my throat, hands flat to the wall. His hips press lazily forward as I moan his name. “I want you,” I breathe. “Taehyung, I want you.”

From far away, there’s a cell phone ringing. I ignore it. Winding my hands through Taehyung’s hair, tugging at the roots to make him growl. He nips my throat, hips making lazy circles as –

RIIIIIIING. RIIIIIIING.

I bolt upright, staring wildly around my bedroom. There’s no one there. No one except for me and my alarm clock, set to go off at 2:30 AM.

Slowly, I lower myself back to my pillows. Staring up at my ceiling, unable to control my heartbeat. It was a dream. Just a dream, it wasn’t real. Still, I feel him. I feel his hands on my body, his lips at my neck. Hear his grumbled moans against my throat and I press my eyes shut. Raising my hands to rub against my temples.

It was just a dream.

Now that I’ve seen Taehyung though – I can’t seem to stop.

The next few weeks, I ban myself from thinking about him.

It’s hard though, when every impulse of mine is to like Taehyung. I like his humor, his odd mix of arrogance and humility. I like the way he looks at me, how he listens, how he genuinely seems to care. But I promised myself I wouldn’t date another actor. Not after the last one.

The only thing is – I no longer find such conviction in this thought. Memories of my ex no longer pain me the way they used to. I walk past our table in the dining hall and feel fine. I see our old friends and wave. I’m slowly returning to the person I once was – albeit a stronger, better version of myself.

I feel free.

It’s a week later I close out my shift on campus. Luis has a doctor’s appointment, so I tell him I’ll shut down the store. Shoving the register away, taking one final sweep around the place. Ensuring all merchandise is folded and placed back on the shelves.

Everything is in order though and I exhale, turning to grab my bag – and knocking a container of pencils to the floor in the process. “Shit,” I mutter, bending to pick them up. I place them onto the counter, frowning at the broken tips.

“Ahem.”

I jerk backwards, nearly knocking over the pencils once more. “Taehyung!” I exclaim, seeing him standing before me. “What are you doing here?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows rise, as though he’s trying not to laugh. “Hi,” he waves. “Yes, it’s me.”

I scoop up the pencils, placing them back in their box. “Can I help you?” I ask, avoiding eye contact. “Did you come to buy another t-shirt?”

Taehyung’s lip quirks. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “I came to ask you a question.”

He sounds oddly serious so I stop, looking up at him. “What question?”

Taehyung steps from around the counter. Coming to a stop to stare down. “Can I have your number?” he asks. “I feel bad getting your address from Seokjin. I mean – uh, from an unnamed faculty member,” Taehyung winces.

Despite myself, I smile. “Why would you want my number?”

Taehyung exhales. “I suppose, ‘because I want to ask you out,’ is too obvious an answer?”

“Oh.” I pull on my coat, lifting my purse from the counter. When I walk past, our shoulders brush. “I can’t go out with you,” I say softly.

Taehyung just looks at me, leaning his elbows onto the counter. “Physically? Are you thinking of becoming a nun or something?”

I look back over my shoulder. “Not a nun, Taehyung. I can’t date you.” I explain, pushing open the door.

Taehyung follows me, catching the door easily. He steps outside and watches me lock it, slipping the key into my pocket. When I walk down the steps he follows, continuing to watch from the corner of his eyes.

“Stop doing that,” I insist, pushing my hand frustratedly through my hair.

Taehyung raises his eyebrows, but remains silent. It hasn’t snowed since the night of the concert – making the grass on either side of us dull and faded. Buds just starting to appear in the trees, though they won’t become full flowers until a few weeks out.

“Not until you explain why you won’t go out with me,” Taehyung says pleasantly. He’s wearing dark jeans, a navy button-down paired with a dark leather bomber jacket. His sunglasses are pushed up into his hair, but his expression remains serious.

I continue to walk, as the sounds of campus encompass us both. Why won’t I go out with Taehyung? Again, I remind myself why. All my past hurt, past wrongs, past pain at the hands of an actor. I wring my hands before my body, trying to convince myself this is right. I promised myself, I never would again.

But then I look sideways, where Taehyung still looks back. Sneaking glances every so often and I realize how very different his is. My ex never looked this way at me, never saw me the way Taehyung does. He certainly never would have tried so hard to date me. I was always the one chasing, not the other way around.

He never noticed things in my life which pained me – Taehyung noticed on the very first day. Not just that, but he tried to help. Sent me tickets and gave me the courage to find myself. To let myself feel, something I can never repay him for. I glance over as I walk, realizing I haven’t spoken for more than a few minutes.

“My ex was in theatre,” I confess. Looking forward while we leave campus, continuing down the street. “He was brilliant, charismatic. Drew people in without even trying. Of course,” I sigh, not daring to look at Taehyung. “It wasn’t just me who was drawn in. Things, well – didn’t end well.”

Taehyung is silent. “And I remind you of him?”

“Sometimes,” I admit. Taehyung’s face falls. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t date another actor. I don’t want to seem rude, it’s just too much for me. Someone whose life is performance – it doesn’t just stay on the stage, you know? You’re constantly thinking of how to present yourself, how to adjust yourself. How to tell the story, convey a message. It’s hard enough,” I whisper, looking ahead. “To understand someone without the added theatrics.”

Taehyung is silent for a long while. Just the sounds of his footsteps, echoing as he contemplates. He doesn’t leave me, though. Doesn’t turn away – giving me hope. Hope for what though, I don’t know. I don’t even know what I want from him.

Well, that’s not true. I want him. I want Taehyung near me, around me, in my life and in my apartment. It’s why I’m continuing to walk this way, why I don’t stop at my door and tell him to go.

Taehyung still doesn’t speak, while I pause in my lobby. I cross my arms across my chest, looking up at him. “Well?” I demand. “Do you have something to say?”

Taehyung’s gaze flickers to the doorman behind me. He looks up at my elevators. “I’d rather tell you in your apartment,” he confesses quietly. “If you’re willing to invite me up.”

I can barely hear him, over the beating of my heart. Over the paralysis which seizes my body, giving me pause. I’m a walking contradiction because I want him, so badly – but my pride won’t give in.

The least I can do though, is hear what Taehyung has to say. I turn. “Come on,” I say, walking across the lobby.

Taehyung follows. He doesn’t stand beside me in the elevator, leaning against the wall and letting his gaze wander. The box lifts, shooting past floor after floor. His gaze is dark, unreadable. When I step out of the landing though, my pulse is racing.

I’m thankful then, that I cleaned my apartment earlier. I turn on my light, setting my purse on my counter to look over my shoulder. “Would you like some coffee, or maybe tea?” I call, shrugging from my jacket.

When I turn around, I come to a stop.

It’s odd to see Taehyung in my apartment. Odd, in a nice way. He seems to fit – I wasn’t sure that he would. He shrugs free of his jacket, draping it over his arm. Taehyung’s shirt is loose, slightly open at the collar and he gazes curiously around my apartment.

“No, thank you,” Taehyung declines my offer. “Your place is very clean,” he observes.

Looking around, I nod. “I like things orderly.”

Taehyung smiles, laying his jacket on top of my stool. He stands motionless for a second, staring at me. “Can I ask you something?”

I nod. “Go for it.”

“Why did you ask me here?” Taehyung tilts his head, expression unreadable. “I understand what you said. I understand you’ve been hurt, that you don’t want to be again. But if you really don’t want to date me, why am I here?”

I fiddle with the edge of my shirt. “I – I don’t know.”

Taehyung nods, before taking a step forward. “Let me tell you what I think,” he says softly. “I think when we met, you were still healing. I think you associated your past relationship with performance, because to him – whomever that douchebag was – they were one and the same. I understand that,” Taehyung hesitates, brow lowering. “I understand why it hurt, being close to something he loved.”

I nod, taking a shallow breath. “That’s true. It was.”

Taehyung takes another step. “But,” he adds, gaze searching mine. “You’re wrong.”

My gaze lifts. “Excuse me?”

“You’re wrong,” Taehyung shakes his head. “Theatre isn’t lying. It’s the purest form of humanity,” he insists, lips white. “I hate your ex, because he dabbled in things he didn’t understand. He didn’t get that the whole point of acting, of singing, of music, of art is to find yourself. To take an unseen truth and show it to an audience.”

I stare back at him, mesmerized by his expression. Taehyung’s eyes dance, burning in his face; smoldering in their intensity.

“Each time I sing,” Taehyung breathes, his voice catching. “Each time I act – it’s me, up on that stage. It has to be, otherwise it’s not genuine. I look at the role, the words, the song and I ask what truth I’m trying to uncover. Which part of myself I need to make raw. Because that’s what the audience relates to,” Taehyung exhales. “The moment of transformation. Seeing yourself on that stage, seeing yourself in a character. That can’t happen, if the performer doesn’t know who they are.”

Taehyung runs his hands through his hair, nearly knocking his sunglasses aside. He removes these, laying them cross-wise on the counter. “God,” he laughs. “It frustrates me, hearing that someone hurt you. Hearing someone hurt you that way, since it shut you down. I don’t even care,” Taehyung insists, waving a hand. “Don’t even care if you date me. I care that you don’t close yourself off, that you stop letting him hurt you like this. I care that you live.”

Taehyung’s chest rises and falls, breaking the silence. I run my fingers over the palm of my hands, unable to look away from him. His words are everything I feel. Everything I’ve felt these past few weeks, ever since seeing him onstage. It’s not the theatre I hate, not performance which hurt me – it was my ex. His lies, his deception, the way that he did it so easily.

I was also angry at myself. For not seeing it earlier, for letting myself be taken advantage of.

It was easy to blame art. To blame the profession, to say it was corruption when truthfully, it was just him. My ex would have done the same were he a banker, a lawyer, a doctor, a teacher. The fact that he was an actor was as coincidental a thing as anything else.

I exhale. “He’s not hurting me,” I say softly. “Not anymore.”

Taehyung stares for a moment longer. “Then,” he murmurs. “Can I ask you just two more things?”

I nod.

Taehyung walks closer, hands sliding to the base of my hair. His thumb strokes over my cheek, tilting me upwards. “Are you attracted to me?” he asks.

I nod, slowly.

“Then why do you keep running away?”

I hesitate. Taehyung’s hand is warm, body close enough to fill the space between us. “Do you remember when we first met?” I swallow, watching his brow crease with confusion. “You were arrogant, so over the top. It’s hard to believe what you say,” I hesitate. “Since my first impression of you was exactly what I expected you to be.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen. “And what was your expectation?” he exhales, nearly a laugh. “What did you think I would be?”

“An actor,” I admit, looking up at him. “A talented, successful actor who didn’t understand what it meant to hear the word ‘no.’ Who only wanted me, because I said it. Who only chased me, because I ran. I don’t want to give in,” I grit my teeth. “Because I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction.”

Taehyung’s eyes glint, almost angry. “You think I don’t understand no?” he asks, low and dangerous. “Y/N. Do you realize what it means, being successful in my field? To actually make it, in the theatre?”

Slowly, I shake my head no.

“I have heard the word no,” Taehyung repeats, closing his eyes. “Ever since I can remember. ‘No one from your town has ever left.’ ‘No one with your features has ever been cast.’ ‘No one with your range can sing this song.’ No, no, no. Over and over, until it’s the only thing I hear at night.” Taehyung opens his eyes, gaze burning. “I hold myself a certain way, act a certain way because people say yes when they think there’s a reason. People say yes, if you think it as well.”

“I’ve gotten here,” Taehyung explains, “on the back of the word no. My parents said I couldn’t do it – hell, they’ve never even been to one of my performances. I was the one who hopped on a bus, who slept on friends’ couches for months as I attended audition after audition. I heard no every time I opened my mouth until – one yes.”

Taehyung stares back at me. “I’m sorry I came across as a dick, that day that we meet. I’ll admit it – people often recognize me around campus. I get a bit cocky, I assume things. Sue me, I’m human,” Taehyung laughs. His fingers sliding into my hair, lifting my chin. “But – if you think I like you just because you’re running?” Taehyung shakes his head. “I haven’t done a very good job at chasing you.”

I stare up at him, stomach sinking as I realize I may have misjudged him. I assumed Taehyung to be one thing when actually – he’s something else entirely. I look down at my feet, struggling to find words. “I’m sorry,” I confess. “Sorry I assumed, sorry I ran. Truthfully,” I say, still unable to look at him. “I’ve been falling for you since our first conversation. It’s why I tried to stay away. I could feel myself falling, and I wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready for the way that you laughed, the way you lifted my spirits, the way you made me dizzy and excited all at once. I wasn’t ready, and so I pushed you away.” I look up, meeting his gaze. “I think I’m ready.”

Taehyung doesn’t speak. Then he bends, brushing his lips with mine.

Once, twice.

Catching my lower lip to back me against the wall. His body presses forward, hands sliding up my sides and tangling into my hair. Taehyung grabs my wrists, lifting them overhead. Pinning me in place as his lips graze my neck.

My breath catches, hips pushing feverishly back. “Taehyung,” I groan, arching against his body.

His mouth curves into a smile at my throat, hands wrapped tight around my waist. “Yes?” Taehyung murmurs, lips tracing my jaw. “What do you want from me?”

I shake my head, unsure. “I don’t know.”

Taehyung leans back, cocking an eyebrow. “Well,” he grins, a dark glint to his eyes. “I have to know. Do you want me to just kiss you, or do you want me on my knees?”

I inhale, legs pressed tight together at the thought. When Taehyung kisses me again, his lips are hot and needy. He lets go of my wrists and my fingers twist into his hair, pulling him closer. His knee nudges between my own, grinding my sex and making me groan.

Taehyung’s hands slide to my ribcage, thumb grazing my breast as his lips trail my neck. Taehyung sucks where my neck meets my shoulders, kneading the skin gently between his teeth. He breaks this up with kisses and bites and I exhale, eyes fluttering as my head hits the wall.

“Fuck,” I mutter, losing myself in his touch. Hands lowering to his ass, pressing him tight between my legs.

Taehyung chuckles. “Oh?” he murmurs, lips returning to mine. “You want me there?”

I nod, too nervous to say more. “Yes.”

Taehyung kisses me roughly, mouth opening against mine. Tongue flicking over me, hands sliding beneath my shirt. My bra is undone, straps slid from my shoulders. “I’m afraid I’ll need you to say more than that,” Taehyung smiles, pulling back to look at me. “Tell me what you want.”

My eyes widen. “What… what do you want to hear?”

Taehyung stares at me openly, brazenly. “I want to hear what will make you come.”

My mouth dries as, between my legs I feel myself grow wet. “I don’t do dirty talk,” I whisper.

“Don’t?’ Taehyung’s lips lift, becoming a smirk. “Or don’t know how?”

The air thickens between us. “Don’t know how,” I admit, nearly inaudible.

Taehyung smiles. “Then,” he murmurs, hands lifting my shirt. “How about I say what I want?” He lifts my shirt entirely, tossing it to the side. My arms are slid from the bra, as this drops to the ground as well. “I want you on your knees, ass in the air and I want to fuck you until you can’t breathe. How does that sound?”

Taehyung’s hand snakes between my legs, spreading them. “Good,” I moan, nearly breathless at the touch. “I want that, Taehyung.”

Taehyung smirks. “Mm. I knew you were fucking dirty,” he teases, bending his head as his lips find my breast. Other hand tracing the next, flicking as his tongue traces. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you,” Taehyung murmurs, kissing back up my chest. “How long I’ve wanted to spread you out on your bed and eat your pussy? I bet you’re fucking sweet.”

Taehyung’s fingers tug my jeans, unbuttoning first one button, then the other. He shoves these past the curve of my hips, then my thighs. Leaving me standing in just my underwear. Taehyung takes a step back to survey me. Lacing his hands behind his head, breath coming in uneven motions.

“Fuck,” he groans. I see his erection straining against his pants and Taehyung reaches his hands slowly down, pulling his shirt from his torso.

I can’t quite help the noise that escapes me. “Come here,” I murmur, but he shakes his head.

“No.” Taehyung’s eyes gleam.

I take a step closer. “What I want,” I murmur, dropping to my knees. “Is for you to take off these pants.”

Taehyung stares at me for a moment, slowly undoing a button. Then his zipper before letting my hands take over, pushing the material past his butt, his thighs. Dropping to the ground as he steps free. I remove his boxers the same way, watching Taehyung’s dick spring up, slapping his stomach. I smile, scooting closer. Letting my legs fall to either side.

Slowly, I lick upwards from the base of his cock. Teasing him with my mouth, hands roaming the rest of his body. Sliding behind his thighs, stroking his ass. I take his cock further, swirling my tongue. Taehyung groans loudly, the muscles of his stomach tight. My hand slides down, covering his shaft while my tongue traces over the tip.

Taehyung hisses. When I look back up, his lower lip is between his teeth. Eyes glazed while watching his cock disappear into my mouth. My hands find his balls, massaging as I let him hit the back of my throat. Taehyung exhales shakily, looking down.

“Yes, baby,” he moans, running his hands through his hair. “Fuck, you look so hot with your lips wrapped around my cock. Your mouth is so tight,” he grunts, thrusting forward. “So wet.”

I allow him control, Taehyung’s hand wrapping my hair into a ponytail while he watches through slitted eyes. “Up,” he demands, his cock falling from my mouth.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, running my tongue over my finger and swallowing precum. Taehyung’s eyes widen. “Oh, so you don’t do dirty talk,” he mutters. “But you’ll lick my fucking cum off your hand? God, you’re amazing.”

Taehyung lifts me, crushing my mouth to his, pressing his hips forward. When he pulls back, his gaze travels downward. Landing on the lace panties I wear, which only just cover my ass. “Can I see your bedroom?” Taehyung sighs, biting my neck.

I grab his hand, tugging him off down the hall. As I walk, Taehyung presses into me, cupping my body to his. He kisses the back of my neck, hair, hands trailing my sides. Halfway there, he pushes me to the wall. Kissing me roughly, yanking my knee up to wrap around him. He kisses me thoroughly, tongue teasing as he bends to grab my other knee.

Taehyung pulls me upwards, wrapping both legs around his waist. He pushes me against the wall, cock hard between my thighs as I whimper, wanting him inside me. “Taehyung,” I groan, his hands gripping my ass. “I want you to taste me,” I whisper.

Taehyung shivers, as I bite down on his lobe. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I want to taste you. I want to lick your pretty little cunt until you’re trembling.”

“Fuck, Tae,” I grunt, tightening my legs.

He walks us backwards, down the hall until he finds the door to my bedroom. Taehyung steps us both inside, glancing around. “Your bed?”

I shake my head. “Bathroom.”

Taehyung doesn’t question this, walking into the adjoining room. “Now what?” he murmurs, lips pressing gently to my jaw.

I lower my legs, turning to walk towards my shower. I open the glass door, turning the knob until water streams from the faucet. Then I look back, watching Taehyung as I push my underwear past my thighs. Taehyung’s gaze follows, as they hit the floor.

“You coming?” I ask, stepping into the water. Tilting my head back, while the water cascades down my front.

I hear Taehyung’s footsteps approach, hear the door to the shower opening as his hands wrap around me. Lips finding my neck, as his hands dip between my thighs. Taehyung draws in a slow, lazy circle, tracing my sex as I exhale. Taehyung’s erection pressing into me from behind, making me moan.

Taehyung turns me, so that my back hits the wall. His body presses forward, lips fierce and wanting. His hand tangles in my hair, the other reaching sideways. My heart pounds when his hand closes around my shower head. Taehyung switches on the pressure, bringing the device close to my body.

His hand finds the wall, other moving the head between my legs. “What,” Taehyung smirks, kissing my neck. Turning the water pressure higher, as I moan. “Is this too much?”

He sucks at my neck, allowing the shower head higher and harder. I arch against it, unable to contain my swearing when the water vibrates my clit. Taehyung’s hand travels down, tweaking a breast. Teasing until my nipple is firm, hard beneath his palm and he bends his head. Pulling my breast into his mouth as the water pulses below.

I press my hips upwards, playing into Taehyung’s game. My thigh lifts to wrap easily around his leg, allowing better access. “Fuck,” I groan, grinding my hips into the water.

Taehyung drops down to his knees. Pulling the spout away, letting it fall to the floor as he opens my legs. Licking up my sex, then down. Tracing a circle, then another. I moan, eyes tightly closed so I don’t see when he grabs the shower head. Don’t see when he switches the nozzle to jet. Only feel, when he pushes this inside me.

“Taehyung!” I gasp, as his lips tug at my clit, the water pounding into me below. “Fuck,” I moan, clutching hair between my fingertips. Unable to stop from tightening in response. My muscles are shaking, out of control as I fall apart.

Taehyung licks a slow circle around my clit while I orgasm, then withdraws. He tosses the shower head to the side. Staring for a moment before bringing his hands up my legs. Kissing my lips while I exhale, wrapping my arms tight around his neck.

“Are you finished?” he asks quietly, nuzzling his face into my shoulder.

I shake my head. “No,” I murmur, pressing my hips to his. “I want you inside me. Now.”

Taehyung nods. Pulling me out of the shower and grabbing a towel. He drapes this around his neck before drying his body, the motions quick and purposeful. I watch him, cloth disappearing between his legs, around his back. His muscles strain, and then he steps forward to dry me off as well. Fluffing my hair, wiping water pooled at my breasts and thighs.

Taehyung grabs my hand to pull me into the bedroom. Walking in front of me with his perfect ass on display. When we reach my bed, Taehyung sits on the mattress. “Come here,” he demands.

I take a step forward, watching his eyes trace my body. Then I stop. “Tell me why I should.”

The corner of Taehyung’s mouth lifts. “Because,” he murmurs. “I know you want to be fucked. Know you want my cock between your legs, want that pretty pussy of yours given attention. Don’t you want me,” he smirks, “to throw you onto your back and make you scream my name?”

His eyes glint, color wicked as I swallow. “Or you can watch me,” I smile, sliding a hand down my body.

Taehyung sits up straight. “Baby,” he groans, pleading for the first time tonight. “Please come sit on my cock.”

I grin. When I walk within arm’s length, Taehyung grabs me to pull me towards him. Flipping me onto my back while kneeling between my legs. He kisses a path up my legs, one finger already sliding over my entrance.

“Mm,” Taehyung murmurs, spreading my legs further. “You’re already so wet. Your cunt looks fucking tight. So pink and pretty, I can’t wait to fuck you.”

“Why don’t you?” I moan, arching against the bed. “Taehyung, I want your cock.”

Taehyung’s gaze rises to the swell of my breasts, then back down. “No,” he shakes his head. “If you’re going to moan my name in bed, I want you to fucking scream it.”

His lips bend to my sex, tracing circles. Tracing harder, as my hands find his hair. Taehyung spreads me wider, finger slowly pushing inside me. He makes a slow circle, then withdraws. Then pushing back in, driving me crazy.

“Taehyung,” I moan, shifting against him. Pushing my hips up, messily grinding against his face. “Please, just fuck me. I want your cock. I want you to pound me into the mattress.”

Taehyung continues to fuck with his finger, but he moves his mouth away. Rising to kiss my lips, letting me taste me on his mouth. “Condom?” he asks, and I nod.

I reach over to pull one from my nightstand, whimpering when his hand falls from my body. As I hand over the packet, Taehyung rolls it onto his throbbing member. He leans back to survey me, his eyes dark. “Turn around,” he demands. “Ass in the air.”

I obey, turning to lower myself onto my elbows. I shiver, when his hand traces over my butt. Taehyung pushes first one, then two fingers inside me. Stretching my opening, making me moan. “God, how long has it been since you’ve been fucked,” Taehyung murmurs. “Your pussy is so tight. So wet it’s dripping, you’re all over my hand.”

When I turn my head to look, Taehyung licks the juices clean. He bends, trailing a quick circle around my clit from behind. “Is this what you want?” Taehyung murmurs and I feel him pull away, cock sliding teasingly up and down my slit. “You want to be fucked into your mattress?’

I can barely process, when he pushes his tip inside. Stretching me further, widening me farther. Taehyung pushes himself in inch by inch and he’s right – it has been awhile since I’ve fucked. Definitely not this way, with his hands in my hair and cock at my g-spot. Slowly moving himself in and out.

Taehyung’s hands find my ass, caressing gently before he spanks me. I hiss, biting down on my lip and pushing backwards. Taehyung soothes the sting, continuing to thrust with his hips. “Did you like that?” he murmurs, bending to kiss the top of my shoulder.

I push my hips back, forcing my ass into him. “Again,” I groan.

Taehyung smacks my ass again, thrusting as he does so. “You want more?” he grunts, continuing to fuck me. “Ah, I see now. You like being treated roughly. You like not being able to walk in the morning, huh, baby? You want to be full of my dick while I fuck you like a bitch?”

Hearing him call me baby and bitch in the same sentence drives me crazy. He speaks in that low, soothing voice, one hand sliding down my front. Stroking over my sex while his hips ram into me from behind.

“Taehyung, fuck,” I moan, before he pulls out entirely.

“Flip over,” Taehyung demands. He waits until I obey before grabbing my wrists, yanking them overhead and slamming back into me. My legs lift, wrapping around him as he thrusts harder and faster. Kissing me roughly, all tongue and teeth. “I want to see you,” Taehyung groans, hips rising with every thrust. “Want to see your face when you come.”

I nod, barely able to say anything more because I’m already tight. Already on edge, while Taehyung rolls his hips against my g-spot. I’m sure my sheets are a mess beneath me, sure my bed is getting soaked but I don’t care. Taehyung is just as sweaty as I am, back straining as he pounds into my body.

“Even once you come, this isn’t the end,” he groans, biting at my neck.

“No?” I gasp, hands roaming his body. Grasping onto anything I can find.

“No,” Taehyung grunts, fucking harder. “There’s still so much I want to do to you. I want to push your legs apart and eat you out so slowly you scream. Want to fuck you against a wall, slide my thumb inside that tight little ass of yours. Want to tell you what a good slut you are, watch you swallow all the cum from my cock.”

“Oh, fuck,” I groan, as he pulls my knee higher. “Taehyung, I want all of that,” I groan, barely able to see past the pleasure. “I want you to fuck me so hard, I can’t remember my name. God.”

Taehyung shudders, pushing into me, “Come for me, baby.”

I don’t know if it’s him asking, or if I’ve finally reached my edge but I come apart. Shaking, as Taehyung continues to fuck into me. He comes after a few more thrusts, collapsing half-way onto his elbows. Taehyung exhales, kissing my nose. Then upper lip, then lower.

He pulls back to drop on his side, pulling the condom away. “So,” Taehyung says, gaze hesitant as he tosses the condom into the garbage.

I answer by scooting closer. “I figure we should date,” I murmur, brushing hair from his eyes

Taehyung’s gaze lightens. “You do? You don’t think that I’m too – what was it, again?”

“Annoying and arrogant?” I grin, moving forward. Feeling his arms wrap firmly around me. “No, I still think you’re all that. I just,” I pull back to look at him. “I see you. All of you, and I want you.”

“Good,” Taehyung murmurs, leg sliding between my own. “Because I want you too, Y/N.”

“How delightful.”

He chuckles, nuzzling my neck with his nose. “How delicious.”

“De-lovely.”

 Author’s Note: De-Lovely 

[sinningbutwithstyle]

Okay here it is (sorry its a mess and sorry for mentioning people, its easier)

so i know i complain a lot and i really shouldn’t on this blog because people i care about follow me and i hate worrying people but i am seriously not okay. Its been practically two weeks since ive had any proper joy and tumblr is legit my only source right now. I log in and reblog a few things or make a few things and see thread posts that some of the cul-de-sac rp blogs do and that shit makes me happy. but as soon as i log off im down. im dead. i feel disgusting and gross and like i shouldnt be here. i dont feel worthy enough to have these blogs reblog or like some of my stuff. for instance, my pablo content post has gotton a bunch of reblogs and likes and even @paabbloo , one of my favorite blogs, rebloged and captioned it. I literally dont feel worthy enough for this to happen. When @probably-pablo followed me, i freaked cuz i was like how the hell can essentially a god to me like anything i post. And i have practically no courage to actually take part in the rp blogs so im stuck here having the only excitement and happiness in my life be when a blog i like reblog or like my post. Twenty times at least i have contemplated making a new blog and being active in the community cuz i thought it would be hella cool to join the Pablo family of what? 4 i think so far? but every time i get close to clicking “new blog” i start thinking that theres already enough people or that id just butcher the character. so i dont. and as previously stated, ive practically been floating through life, not even paying attention to anything. the symptoms of the shit i have are showing more and more and its making everything harder and i just want it to stop. And my therapist said something about how medication would help but i cant get medication until another 2+ days so im practically suffering in my own goop of issues. and so i end up on tumblr. because the cul-de-sac community is really great and i appreciate them a lot. but i cant be on tumblr always and its just getting worse without it. i have friends yes, but im drifting from them and i just constantly feel bombarded with emotions and overwhelmed with everything. I dont even remember the purpose of this rant anymore, i guess i put too much trust in the internet. Im not okay and i guess it will stay that way for a while. And like the environment around me is shitty. my dad is literal fucking shit, practically absent but just taunting me with the possibility of a father and the others who live with me are terrible and they always fight and i just hate my house, and i hate my room, and i just hate myself. Its too fucking much. and i feel pathetic for this because im only like 15-16 so i shouldn’t be depressed. I shouldnt have crippling anxiety and attention issues. Because people my age dont have that shit. I should be happy and have a boyfriend or girlfriend and actually want to go to homecoming and prom and all that but i just dont. And i feel pathetic for it. i feel like a nuisance all the damn time. so i go on tumblr where people dont judge me and shit and i practically live vicariously through @d–bloodmarch and @xxpvbloxx and @genuinewrestleboyvega and @sella-coffee and all of these blogs (that i cant name cuz theres a bunch) because i feel like it would be a better life to have them as my family. To have Damien as my dad or Pablo as my friend/brother. Or to have Mat as the dude i can relate to. Or Hugo as my teacher. Or have Robert to fuck around with looking for cryptids. Or have the kids to hang with. or the dogs to pet the living shit out of. Its just dope and would be so much better than the life i have and i feel utterly pathetic for having to say that. i dont know anymore. im just tired of having to do the same thing over and over again. wake up, school, go home, sleep. over and over. and on the weekends it barely changes. its wake up, homework, sleep. im just exhausted all the time and none of the teachers seem to get that. no one realizes how hard it is for me because ive been conditioned to keep it all in and only talk about my issues on the internet anonymously. and im just done doing that. its tiring to keep all this shit in. yes im depressed. yes im anxious. im a goddamn mess, why is it so hard to get? why cant i convince myself that being this way is okay? WHY CANT I JUST BE WHO I AM!?? and in my brain i get that its okay. its stupid to not think it is. but then when the time comes to tell people im like this i just say im fine or whatever and it builds and builds until shit like this happens. I just came from a friends house and i looked and acted perfectly fine until as soon as i walked in my room. i just broke down. it was too exhausting. everything is too exhausting. even writing this is exhausting. life is just fucking exhausting. sorry about the rant and sorry to anyone i mentioned if it made them sad or whatever, i just needed to get this shit out without directly talking to people. there may be more later but idk. thanks for listening if you did. whatever, seeya.

[baekzhang]

11 questions tag (x3)

i was tagged by @oh-beyond​ and @arcoiiza​ aND @yeolology​ WHILST I WAS WRITING THIS SMH

ill put it all under the cut bc too long

selma’s questions

You find yourself with your bias in an elevator that breaks down…

1. He is a whiny baby… what do you do? How do you act around him?

i’d prolly ignore him if he annoys me

2. Do you act around him like you know him or like you don’t?

let’s say i’d admit to know him, but would play cool. in the end im stuck in a damn elevator i have other troubles 

3. There is an obvious language barrier… do you try talk to him in his language (google translate, etc…) ? Or do you go for English and he can figure it out himself?

i’d try to pronounce English in a Korean way and use some Korean words to sorta garbage my way through this 

4. He starts crying… do you decide unstanning him? Or do you lend your shoulder to cry on?

he remeins my bias (besides baekhyun cries like every day lol). id try to comfort him?? but i really suck at this stuff id be like “the probability of someone finding us is around 75% so don’t worry”

5. He finally faints in your lap… do you take advantage? You stare? You touch his eyelashes to make sure they are real? His cheeks? Anything else?

id probably let him sleep and maybe stroke his hair and try to figure out the situation (cant think well when someone CRIES IN MY EARS)

6. He regains consciousness and he asks you if you’ve touched him… would you be honest?

id probably be sarcastic and then tell him that i really didn’t do much

7. Do you try making him laugh? Or you act all uninterested to create a mysterious aura so he gets curious? What is your tactic?

if he’s still sad and all id try to make him laugh bc a laughing baek is better than a sobbing baek

8. If you decide on telling you stan him. What would be your questions to him? Would you admit he’s your bias or make him jealous telling him you like a different member?

uhhhhh...since im a multibiasing ho id prolly tell him that i admire him and stuff. like i wouldn’t hide that i bias him but i wouldn’t go too into detail about it

9. If you act like you don’t know him, would you still try to impress him?

impressing is very subjective since we are stuck in an elevator, but sure id try to make a good impression on him

10. You are taken… if he asks you if you have a significant other… would you lie?

depends on whether i actually like my s/o lol. like if its basically already shitty between us id say i don’t really have one (and break up immediately after i got out of that dumb elevator). if i actually do love my s/o id tell him that i have one (and maybe still break up lmao)

11. The lights of the elevator go off and he’s scared and gets too close and his hands are too handsy… would you stop him? Or…?

he’s scared so i wouldn’t be mad, if his hands get somewhere...uncomfortable...id prolly try to wiggle out of that grip bc i dont want to startle him

alba’s questions

1. Are you allergic to something?

haha, yes. pollen, dust, grass

2. What’s the colour that makes you feel at peace?

idk...blue? (not royal blue ok)

3. Are you a messy person or a tidy person?

messy! definitely messy

4. Old house full of memories or new house to start again?

tbh start anew 

5. If you had to choose between amazing sex with someone who doesn’t love you back or bad sex with someone who adores you, what would you choose?

someone who adores me doesn’t mean someone that i adore...tbh id go for the amazing sex lmao unless i like the bad sex person then id go for the bad sex 

6. Are you afraid of any animal?

moths, spiders, bugs in general, scorpions (arachnids can just fuck off okay) and whatever lurks in the deep sea can stay in the deep sea

7. If you are studying do you concetrate better at morning or at night?

night, im too moody in the morning

8. What is your opinion on eBooks?

i guess they are good for when you don’t wanna carry too much with you, but personally i prefer holding the book in my hand and feeling the paper and all

9. Do you have stuffed animals? If so, which is your favourite?

i used to have a lot of these, and i still have a stuffed tiger!

10. Are women their worst enemies?

wait...what?

11. What is your favourite food?

currently it’s chicken fricassee 

bee’s questions

1. What’s on your desk/workstation? 

currently all my papers for uni, stationery and my calculator (+trash lol)

2. I’m taking you for bubble tea. I’m getting a watermelon milk tea - what are you getting?

...the last time i had bubble tea was years ago like VERY long ago idk the flavours?? is there lemon ice tea?? 

3. What’s your most memorable childhood cartoon?

Ducktales!

4. We’re going to the cinema - what movie that’s out rn would we go to see?

Atomic Blonde

5. Do you paint your nails? What are your usual colours and what do you have on now?

uhhh, rarely. rn i have no colour on, but usually its dark blue (chanel’s blue boy)

6. What’s your default outfit? Is it smart or casual?

casual. tbh anything that is comfy 

7. If you had to show your bias one of your most embarrassing moments, which one would it be?

tbh any of the videos where i was drunk

8. Recommend me a coffee and a good album?

a coffee what...uhhh...starbuck’s caramel macchiato and THE WAR/REPACKAGE GOOD SHIT REALLY GOOD SHIT A MUST BUY

9. What does your room look like? What colour are the walls, what’s your bedding like, are there any decorations?

small asf, blue walls, bed by the window, not many decorations

10. What’s your top 3 favourite smells?

perfume?? or what??? 

jimmy choo - eau de perfume 

versace - bright crystal

chanel - coco noir

11. What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

sprained ankle, torn muscle fibre (hurts a lot)

my questions: (i suck at questions okay)

1. do you have any pets?

2. When you write a fanfic, do you write it on mobile or desktop?

3. favourite subjects in school?

4. what is your biggest fear?

5. any pet peeves?

6. current favourite song?

7. favourite pizza topping?

8. any movie where you had to cry?

9. dumbest thing you ever did?

10. nickname you hate the most?

11. your otp?

i tag: @soowritings @naenoeul @heonseoks

[sadrien]

wanna chat? pt.18

on ao3 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

hey so its been a while

im in a really crappy mental place and like my entire life is drowned in discourse right now (specifically today) and its making me an anxious mess. so today i slept, avoided the discord app as much as possible, only spent like 20 minutes total on tumblr, and worked on this. its bad but i need proof that today was worth it so *jazz hands*

pluto is better than u = alya, space bro = nino, trappist = adrien, galaxy print = mari

1:15

pluto is better than u: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ikWb_Xjako pour one out for vine

 6:48

space bro: alya i love you but why do you never sleep like my dude

7:08

pluto is better than u: rip vine u were a good

 8:03

space bro: yo mari you coming today

 8:17

pluto is better than u: hello hello hellloooooooooo

PM between trappist and galaxy print

trappist: I’m assuming you aren’t going to class today I’m going in late because of a photoshoot, but I can swing by during lunch with work if you want some? Or later tonight? Just let me know <3

13:31

galaxy print: So rry Ij ust woke up Holy  on I cant typ ern Oh go d

space bro: oh man dude are you ok????

pluto is better than u: D: D: D: mari ur worst than me when im sleep deprived

galaxy print: FIght me alys

pluto is better than u has changed their name to alys

galaxy print: Fucck you

alys: i luvve u

galaxy print: Im gonn a vough on you Couhg Cough FUck

space bro: im guessing youre sick

galaxy print has changed their name to cough cough

cough cough: Ye

alys: babe :(

space bro: feel better mar!! you arent missing anything much its all boring

alys: ummm IM LONELY thats important!!!!!

cough cough:  you ve got the boys right in fornt of you Front

alys: yeah but :’(

space bro: want us to drop your work off at your place after school dude?

cough cough: No I dont want towork

trappist: I’m already on it You two can tag along if you want though

cough cough: D: Nooooo I dont awnt it My hea d hursts

space bro: we can come over and chill with you

alys: CUDDLES

space bro: ^^^

cough cough: Im siCK I dont want you gettin s ick too

alys renamed this conversation to “boo you whore”.

space bro: back at it again with the american memes

alys: mean girls is not restricted to one country it is Iconic and international and also timeless

cough cough: Can you qote the hwole movie?

space bro: mari dude go back to bed like ily but rest my man

alys: nah i cant but marsh can

cough cough: Wha t

space bro: hold up

alys: B)

trappist has changed their name to glen coco

glen coco: I guess it’s natural for parents to cry on their kid’s first day of school But you know this usually happens when the kid is five I’m sixteen And until today I was homeschooled

space bro: alright damn confession time ive only seen like half of mean girls

alys removed space bro from this group.

cough cough: Ru de

alys: not seeing mean girls is an insult to my honor

cough cough: Ok princ e zuko

glen coco added space bro to this group.

alys: hmmm who would b the zuko of our group antagonist turned  good hmmmmmmmmmmmmm

space bro: first of all fuck you alya

alys: ;*

space bro: second of all what are we doing now?? i thought we were on mean girls

alys: the gorup chat stops for no one babe

cough cough: I dont think any of us arE Zuko???

glen coco: Yeah, as much as I love Zuko I don’t think I’m even remotely close to him Not honor driven enough

alys: not angsty enough

space bro: i dunno adrien cn be pretty angsty

alys: poll time say aye if you had a crush on prince zuko growing up not book 1 zuko that was some bullshit were talking book 3 redemption arc zuko the Good Shit cause aye as fuck

space bro: aye

glen coco: Aye

cough cough: ay e

alys: im glad were friends

 15:03

glen coco: Hey Mari we’re on our way

 15:10

alys: if ur unconsciou s can i nap w u im wiped

space bro: shes not gonna answer if shes asleep babe also just joining her for a nap is weir d

alys: im standing right next to u insult me 2 my face u coward

space bro: ok

glen coco: Mari I hope you’re awake because please save me from these two

 15:43

cough cough: Ye I wasnt awak e My he ad hurt sstill and my eyes got like Stuck shut????? Tmi?

alys: nothings tmi when it comes to u <3

space bro: id like to argue that there are in fact somethings that ARE tmi but yaeh this isnt one of them were chilling in the park across the street cause your mom said you were asleep she offered to just take your hw but we said wed wait to explain it all

alys: pfff theres no explanation needed we just wanted 2 see u

cough cough: Ugh you dindt have to do that I dont want to ge tanyone sick

space bro: you wont!!!

cough cough: You odnt know htat!!!

PM between cough cough and glen coco

glen coco: Obviously patrol for tonight is canceled

cough cough: :( TIkki said shed leave if I tired to go Tried And i STarted cryin g

glen coco: Aww Mari She wouldn’t leave you she just wants you to take care of yourself Tikki loves  you too much to leave you

cough cough: Im going to start crying again

glen cooc: D: NOT my intention!!! Do you need a hug??

cough cough: NO BECAUS E IM SICJK DONT CME NEAR M E

glen coco: We’re in your living room and on our way up

cough cough: nooooooooo :’( Im gross and crying rnight now why eould you do thsi to me

glen coco: Because we love you and you definitely need a hug right now And maybe more medication

cough cough: This s the wors thting to ever happen ot m e

glen coco: Knock knock

cough cough: :/

16:21 in boo you whore

cough cough: I hate yoiu all Thanks for coming over <3 <3

alys: <3

space bro: of course dude!! you looked like you needed the company

cough cough: If you all get sick you can tblam e me I told you not to come near me Cuddling mgihtve been too much

glen coco: Cuddling is never too much

alys: ^^^

space bro: ditto

 22:44

alys: hello? 112? yeah fuck my life and everything in it

space bro: you think i can bribe hawkmoth into taking a day off

PM between cough cough and glen coco

cough cough: Oh no

glen coco: Do not

cough cough: I have to??? I feel like Im gonna fall over THe world is spinny Oh n o

glen coco: I fight the akuma, you do nothing until you absolutely have to We can’t have you falling off a roof or something

cough cough: Do you think if I just cry at the akuma itll purify itself

glen coco: We can try

cough cough: :(

[a-love-poet-at-heart]

5 Things About Me

tagged by @janylate​

I was tagged like 2+ weeks ago. Sorry. The depression flared up for like a week and then I forgot till today.

5 things you’ll find in my bag

headphones

ipod classic filled with bad musical theatre songs.

my phone with a little Russian!PotO pocket calendar from last year in between the phone and clear case. I actually got the calendar when I bought the Russian PotO CD.

my knitting. I’ve been making a red shawl on-and-off for the last 2 years

my wallet with no picture ID since I’m online homeschooled and I’ve been putting off getting a license since I have some anxiety around driving.

5 things you’ll find in my bedroom

way too many blankets

way too many books

way too many pictures of my favorite singer, Ian Patrick Gibb. 1/3 of a wall filled with them. I won a contest at his concert a few years ago and the prize included a bunch of signed pictures.

way too many knick-knacks randomly placed around my room

way too many posters of musicals hung above my bed

5 things I’ve wanted to do in life/on my to do list

get better at my hobbies, like sewing and drawing

see some of my fav musicals live, like Tanz der Vampire or Elisabeth. 

see more productions of Phantom of the Opera. I’ve already seen the bway one a few years back. I would love to see others from different countries. 

learn German and Russian. Also maybe Hungarian

Travel around ‘merica and Europe.

5 things that make me happy

listening to music/musical theatre. Honestly the only music I listen to is from musicals I like.

historical fashion. Especially stuff from mid 1600s to 1920s

cats

mmmmmmmmm listening to singers I like??? kinda covered in 1st but whatever

dicking around on the internet/memes

5 things I’m currently into

my favorite good musical; Elisabeth das Musical, Tanz der Vampire, and  Phantom of the Opera

German musical theatre

Russian musical theatre (honerable mention to Hungarian musical theatre)

Hunchback of Notre Dame/Notre Dame de Paris (book, ‘99 german musical, redone musical, french musical)

Dracula (book and Wildhorn musical)

5 things people may not know about me

I created a wikipedia account just to edit the Hunchback of Notre Dame musical page to add Lt. Charlus (role played by Ian P. Gibb) to the principal cast list.

As stated before IPG is my favorite singer, so the handle on my twitter (that I never use anymore) is IanPGibbshair.

I don’t really have a cartoon art style or even a “chibi”ish art style. I really hate this. I’m really good at super realistic art, thou.

I’m a bit of a jack of all trades kniting, crocheting, drawing, sewing, baking

Okay, I’m gonna rant about I thing that I’m still super salty about. So, this is kinda part of my Tragic™ backstory. So, I was 9th grade and I got a lot of anxiety from the people and depression that I started to go on meds for. So, I got my mom to enroll me in online private school. It’s all online and I can do it whenever I want. Cambridge Academy is the name of the school. Fuck them. I hate them with a passion. They did not teach me. The weeks were just a bunch of text and nothing else. I had to cheat and go back through lessons and google the answer to get by. I was an straight A student and getting anything less than a high B devastated me. I got more mental issues from this shite school than normal public school. Their Math and German were the biggest scams. They did not teach me more complicated math. Like in a lesson they would talk about the easiliest ways to do whatever the thing is and never about how fractions and exponents would work into it. I used the online calculator Mathway on all my tests since the questions were so hard and I honestly did not know how to do it. German was worse. In German all nouns are either Male, Female, or Neuter. With different “The”s to use with each, Der, Die, and Das respectively. So they were teaching thes with words and they didn’t teach me the words, but groups that sometimes or always were a the. Like drinks are sometimes neuter but not always. THis is a horrible way to teach. Normally you teach the thes with the words. Like Der Tee and Das Wasser. I studied real hard with Flash cards. on the test they started with a words like Stuhl or somthing. I’m like “wtf is a Stuhl” google translate says Chair. “Okay what the fuck is the gender of a chair”.  I look through the cards, nothing. Fuck. I guess or something and I tank the test. They even had words with the English translation next to it, like the german words for speed limit!! I have multiple mental breakdowns™ from the disappointment of going from straight As to a D (i rasied the grade to a low B I think by the end of the year, still devastating for me) in a subject I love (as I really like the German language) Anyway I manage for 2 and  1/2 years, say Fuck this and decide to go to anyother better online school. American Academy, a GOOD online school, is the answer. They actually just started online courses as they normally do just paper packets sent to the kids and they send them back to the school for grades. Turns out Shite school’s accreditation are bunk. They are Fake News™. I wasted 2 years of my like on them. I have to start all over. They let me test out of freshman year. and I finished sophomore in like 6 months and I’m not on the end of Junior year now I just have like 3 essays to do and I’m done with Junior. I’m 18. Everyone I was once students with are graduated next week. But this school is pretty good. overall. I was hoping to finish Junior year months ago (I started it in September and hoped to be finished in February.) I’m just fucked and super depressed about all this. And super depressed about the essays and don’t want to start them.

5 people I want to tag: I don’t really want to tag anyone. I don’t really have anyone on here that I talk to and are like “friend friend”s with. Most I’ve talked to someone on here was the one who tagged me! Also I don’t really like the whole ponzi schemeish thing. Like main person starts this, tags people, they do it and tag people, ect, ect.

[veryfineday]

Saturday 11 February 1832

8 50/..

1 1/2

Ͷ  Ͷ  13L  Vc

Letter from my aunt (Shibden) 3 pp.[pages] and ends to announce the parcel arrived yesterday and full of sorrow that her letters must have always something disagreeable to tell - afraid there would be great expense and trouble in getting rid of Benjamin Bottemley the coals not yet measured off etc. etc.  but everybody well - Fahrenheit 56 1/2º. at 9 in my room and 44º. at 10 in the balcony - down at 10 10/.. breakfast and upstairs again at 11 10/..  stood reading the newspaper -

slight talk at breakfast I had neither kissed nor shaken hands  but was cheerful and good humoured but very proper  somehow speaking of Sibbella  I said her motto was   il faut me chercher  that is the violet said Miss H[obart]  yes and it is difficult to manage as a seal  had she one  yes but she only used it to me  find me a motto said Miss H[obart]  I will and yours shall be the same  ‘no that is too good for me’  I disclaimed this ssaying   my error was in seeking wrong  hard and unfortunate to have been obliged to begin so ill  she owned this ssaying how could she I believe so much from a stranger  if you had know me a few years ssooner  you might have made me what you pleased  and your influence might now do a great deal   

she had before said she never knew me speak ill of anyone but Mr. Long    you will never know said I all the reason I have for doing so  his very name irritates me  adding energetically in a low tone  he is a damned rascal - she by and by said ‘if you were a little different   you are always ssaid I speaking with ifs that little diffe[re]nce might change me altogether  and if you could turn me into a Mrs. Disbrowe  I am not certain that I should in reality suit even you the better for it  oh that said she good humouredly but as if half ashamed at the consciousness  of its truth  is too impertinent and I came away 

how strange! again and again I ask myself  what will be the end of it  I hate or fancy I do  then like declare against her then relent  and now feel half in love   our quarrels sseem less likely to separate us than ever  her remorse and confession this morning  line four  look more like coming tender ness than hate   I will speculate no more  I know not how it will end -

out from 11 55/.. to 1 5/.. with miss H-[Hobart] in High Street - a little rain made us take shelter then some time at mr. wooll’s - 13 more letters in in answer to the advertisement  sauntered about Breed’s place a few minutes and came in at 1 5/.. - at 1 1/2 (alone) called and sat 20 minutes with mrs. and miss mary Courtenay - then 10 minutes with miss H-[Hobart] and came to my room -

dawdling over 1 thing or other till 3 from then to 6 1/4 wrote the journal of Thursday yesterday and so far of today - dressed - dinner at 7 10/.. in 35 minutes - a little music - just sitting down to coffee when miss wilbraham came at 8 40/.. and staid till 11 10/.. - agreeable evening - music for more than the last 1/2 hour -

she asked whose servant George was and on find[in]g him mine asked if I had had him long etc. and then told of his being seen drunk in the street and frightening a gentlemans child (Mr. Wallingham as we guessed but he would not have his name mentioned)  the gent. had mentioned it to Lady Ann Scott but she declined saying anything to Miss Hobart  Miss W[ilbraham] would not for the world have herself brought in   promised she should not  expressed my thanks very much and my annoyance - on going away  Miss H[obart] said how pleased she seemed with me and when I talked to her  and this obs[ervation] might be made  she hoped to see me in London and offered very civilly and kindly to do anything for me in London 

Lent miss wilbraham Dr. Southey on consumption and she brought me bacK Scudamore on ditto - said he was now in Paris - obliged to leave London on account of debt - gambled - had lost a good deal at dummy whist - told us what great travellers her father and brothers had been, and her mother was educated abroad - her oldest brother Richard had been in every country of Europe but DenmarK and Portugal - had been in Asia and Africa i.e. Egypt -

Miss H[obart] and I talked over George then got on the subject of mind and she indirectly complimented me on  the superiority of mine  her high opinion of me is evident  she said the other day that Sibbella used to think me an angel  it was only latterly she thought I had not religion enough   wearing my blonde pelerin  said the little countess de Rosny had bought it me and that she it was read Berenger to me and made me understand him   said after dinner I should like her to see [Pi-Mariana]  but without her knowing it  or she [Pi-Mariana] might make some excuse - very proper and get on comfortably -

fineish morning till a little after 12

[margin: then a little rain - and rain towards evening and about 7 - Fahrenheit 60º at 12 tonight in my room and 37º now at one in the balcony - ]

[trendingnewsb]

Wisconsin: Go Drunk, Youre Home

One winter evening earlier this year, in a nondescript small town off a nondescript highway in northern Wisconsin, a male relative of mine suffered a mild heart attack while getting a fresh beer from his fridge. On his way to the hospital, the ambulance carrying him hit a deer. Another ambulance had to take everybody the rest of the way. Everybody turned out fine, except, I suppose, the deer.

Every aspect of that story screams Wisconsin. The deer. The heart attack. But mostly, the beer.

This week, 24/7 Wall St. released its list of the top 20 drunkest cities in America. Ten of the top 20 drunkest cities in America (and all of the top four) are in the Badger State.

Wisconsins prominence on this list might seem puzzling to a person who isnt familiar with Wisconsin or its alcohol-centric culture. Maybe people drink a lot there because its cold, but a lot of other nearby states also have shit weather without using alcohol to cope. It could be the states German heritage, but German descendants live all over the U.S. Wisconsin has a lot of college towns, but so does California. What makes Wisconsin different? Whats wrong with it?

I posed the question to a random assortment of people who have lived or currently live in WisconsinWhy so drunk?and it seems there isnt a single reason that drinking is so central to the culture there; there are several reasons.

Wisconsin contains multitudes. And, in a state with such a wide range of ideology, drinking is a neutral activity.

I was born in Wisconsin and lived the first 18 years of my life there. My home state has produced a stunning array of historical weirdos, from zealot Joseph McCarthy to murderer Ed Gein to artist Georgia OKeeffe to my brother, who for Mothers Day gave our mom a coffee mug with his own (stern) face on the side of it with the word FAMILY inscrutably emblazoned over the corner. The tallest point in Wisconsin is a little over 1,000 feet above sea level, but the glacier that carved the great plains skipped a triangle of land in the southwestern part of the state, so driving from Madison toward LaCrosse takes a person through an almost eerie undersea landscape. Weve got a whole lot of Lake Superior lakefront, in case anybody feels like swimming in water almost too cold to drink; Lake Michigan lakefront, if anyone prefers the excitement of swimming in water that may contain pee that drifted north from Chicago; and 11,000 freshwater lakes in case anybody want to smell like algae and maybe get swimmers itch. The town where I grew up has recently seen an influx of Amish and Mennonites snapping up cheap land and farming it with horses, so I guess you could say its de-gentrifying in parts.

Its politically weird, too. The Republican Party was born in Wisconsin. The John Birch Society is based there. But also, my Norwegian great-grandfather used to have socialists over to his farm after church, to sit around and complain about the captilists, like a modern DSA meeting except with fewer wrist tattoos. Anybody who has seen Waynes World can tell you that the city of Milwaukee has elected three socialist mayors. Speaker of the House and Ayn Rand fanboy Paul Ryan is from Wisconsin, but so is dyed-in-the-wool liberal Sen. Tammy Baldwin, the first openly gay woman elected to the U.S. Senate.

Wisconsin contains multitudes. And, in a state with such a wide range of ideology, drinking is a neutral activity. [Drinking] is open to everyone who is interested, requires a limited skill set, can be done any time, anywhere, is socially encouraged, and is a pastime weve internalized and embraced as part of our state identity, says Rachel, a teacher in her mid-thirties who lives in Burlington.

A fancy beer might set a person back $4. You can get half-drunk for the price of a single movie ticket.

Wisconsin was one of the last states to raise the drinking age to 21 (in 1986), and that was only because the federal government threatened to withhold highway funding. My parents met at a bar in 1978, when my mother was 18. Underage people are still allowed to drink in bars in Wisconsin, provided they are accompanied by a parent, guardian, or spouse who is of-age and their of-age companion does the ordering. (That means that somebody could order their 5-year-old a beer, theoretically, but during my summers waitressing I never saw anybody try to pull anything crazy like that.) Hunting and fishing culture contributes as well; while its probably ill-advised to get hammered before deer opener, the entire point of ice fishing is sitting in a small, uninsulated room that isnt in your house and getting drunk while staring at a hole in the ice and listening to the Packer game on an FM radio.

The states tradition of beer brewing means that alcohol is cheap, too, as Cullen, an Eau Claire resident in his late thirties, points out. Mixed drinks are $2.50 and beer is $1.50. Those are the real prices, he says. A fancy beer might set a person back $4. You can get half-drunk for the price of a single movie ticket.

Weather and ennui certainly factor into Wisconsins drinking habit. Six months of the year are reliably terrible, weather-wise, driving people indoors to socialize. Breanna, a bartender, says that people feeling economic pressure often drown their sorrows in her bar. And Tyrell, who has since moved to Minneapolis, notes, Wisconsin is boring as hell. Theres nothing to do except get drunk and play the lottery.

Theres also the Midwestern stoicism factor. Its the deep pervasive culture of immigrant Scandinavians (we dont talk with people, we talk about people and eat/drink our feelings) and stoic German farmers (dont talk about the feelingthere is only one, right?pissed), writes Sarah, who has since moved to Colorado. This results in kids and families not knowing how to reconcile, say I love you, share real feelings, ask real questions, etc.

Wisconsinites love each other when theyre drunk, and Wisconsin performatively loves how drunk it is.

Drinking is often the center of family celebrations, too. My extended familys Christmas Eve party, traditionally held at my grandparents house down the road and around the corner from where I grew up, would go from wholesome fun to extremely lit party right around when it started getting dark in the mid-afternoon. My uncles would get in tipsy, borderline nonsensical debates about things like: Who is the Paul Wellstone of the Minnesota Twins outfield? My grandmother would sing the Volga Boatmen song in an opera falsetto, a demonstration of how she used to sing that way to get her six sons to settle down, because all of her sons hated that singing. Unsupervised, my cousins and I would do things like mix all of the condiments into a tall glass of water and dare my brother to drink it, and he would. Wed play extremely competitive games of Balderdash that escalated to shouting. Wed find glitter, and take it out of the cupboards. Wed play hide-and-seek, but with screaming. Wed put on our winter boots and run around in the snow, chased by our dogs, their breath rising as steam as they bounded past us. Some of my best childhood memories are from nights all of the adults were Christmas drunk.

Wisconsins drinking culture isnt necessarily accompanied by the sort of aggression one might associate with a bar district. One Eau Claire resident, who has worked at a busy bar downtown in the second drunkest city in America for the last six years, says hes never seen a fight. We have a drinking culture, he says. But its not vomiting wackos and aggressive creeps. Its just what we do.

Bryan, a resident of Grantsburg, adds, Wisconsin is the only state that can consume excess amounts of alcohol and love their neighbor at the same time. Most states would start a war.

Wisconsinites love each other when theyre drunk, and Wisconsin performatively loves how drunk it is. The stores in airports in Madison and Milwaukee display hooded sweatshirts and beer koozies that read DRINK WISCONSINBLY. DRINK WISCONSINBLY is to Wisconsin what I (heart) NY is to New York. But because its so proud of itself, Id take the entire drunkest cities list with a grain of salt. Wisconsin lacks the requisite shame that often accompanies intoxication and thus would lean in on any survey that would allow them to self-report their drunkenness.

Were just not embarrassed about it, says Noah, who grew up in Madison. Minnesotans have a deep sense of shame about things in general.

So is it possible that Wisconsin isnt as dramatically drunker than its neighbors as advertised? Sure. But as I sit here typing this on a laptop balanced on a pillow shaped like my home state, I know deep down in my heart that the bars back home are brimming with people Wisconsinbly drunk on $2 beers. And that neither the deer nor the drunks will know better than to stay off the roads.

Read more: https://www.thedailybeast.com/wisconsin-go-drunk-youre-home

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