#capitalism is crazy in a show so heavily against it

[jackmkelly]

idk much about newsies uk as a production, can i know more about why you have beef with it? :-0

OVERALLLLLL i do love newsies uk and it was great and gave me the greatest joys (michaels jack, brontés kath, brooklyn girls) HOWEVER!!!! i Can always and Will always be critical of the things i love and newsies wont ever be an exception 🤕🤕

tooooooo many injuries happened in that show ! and .. fine its newsies ppl do get hurt when its so dance heavy it happened on bway and tour as well (but come on that shouldnt be normalized either lol). especially when its all about unions and how safety on the job is LITERALLY mentioned

it also eventually reached a point where brooklyn being all girls felt incredibly disingenuous. it didnt feel like it was supposed to be an empowering moment for kids in the audience and instead was just a way for the team to be like “we’re the version that had brooklyn girls” and that bugs me! and because kath and medda had alternates (which is a good thing pleaseeee normalize alts!🤞) brooklyn was down to 5 instead of 6 twice a week…. totally couldve been avoided if they just also hired an off stage female swing (i understand budget and all that but come on… if youre gonna flex ur girls make sure u have them lol). not to mention the fact that due to sickness and injury the boys had to cover brooklyn multiple times, which would be fine if the same rules applied the other way.. but it didnt… and that really urks me. theres No reason one of the girls couldnt have helped out in the manhattan ensemble when the boys were allowed to cover brooklyn

(i think newsies should be the most blindly casted show ever like who said they all have to be guys… open a book about the strike and they really werent so its just kinda tired to see it over and over again)

also in regards to the girls the element of surprise stopped being a valid excuse to not credit them accordingly after they put the girls on television so program still not saying lillie was spot by cast change even tho ever single man to play that role had it right in the playbill is icky to me

also once and for all is my favorite song in the show and i hate the way it was done there but thats its own issue

++ also also fan behavior was honestly atrocious and disgusting bc a lot of ppl were hiding racism and ableism behind “support for understudies!” bc why did people Want jack and crutchie specifically out a lot more than they wanted a davey or kath understudy but thats its own conversation.

[mynahx3]

My Dear in the Night 1.2K

HELLOOOOO LOVELIES!! I live! HA! Months later and i'm finally happy with what I'm writing. Life kinda just got crazy so I had to put writing on the back burner for a bit. I do have a few goodies I'm editing rn so I can't wait to share em once they're done. This story is a little sneak peak to the one I'm realllllyyyyy excited about. It's a Author! Suguru x Ghost! Reader. Nothing to warn rn but it will get dark so buckle up! Should be out latest end of Sept

It was a cold autumn evening, the moon shining brightly above, as expected given that it was midway through October.

A man sat in his dark room, silent as he hunched over his desk. Tired eyes looked over his laptop, the damned cursor almost mocking him as it blinked on an empty page. He felt his lip twitch in irritation; the only other movement was the tapping of his leg against the wooden floors.

In the morning, he would have to face the consequences of his actions. He would wake with a dull ache in his lower back as a result of his terrible posture; his wrists hurt from years of misuse, and his eyes burned from the brightness of his laptop, yet he couldn't sleep. He wouldn't until he had something.

Hours of sitting at his desk had gone by with nothing to show for it. He was supposed to be a renowned horror author with plenty of titles to his name, but lately, nothing seemed to flow from his mind like before. Any and all inspiration for the particularly gruesome topics of his writing was gone. The creative spark in his mind kept the flames of his imagination burning bright like an inferno, seemingly with no end, but now it was fizzled out. Dimmed and barely flickering.

A desperation gnawed inside him, urging him to find that spark once again before it was too late. The pressure to produce something, anything, weighed heavily on his shoulders as he stared blankly at the empty page before him. That desperation is what drove him to this small community. It was a much-needed reprieve from the rush and bustle of city life.

Currently, he finds himself in a deeper stump.

Ravenwood, located in the Appalachian Mountains, was a small town known for its cold weather almost all year and even colder residents, particularly to outsiders. Most wouldn't even think to look twice at the drab town, but it seemed to gain a second life with holiday season. Many came for a vacation in the snowy mountains to find a nice retreat from the reality of their lives. A place many went to have that perfect winter wonderland experience for half the price of others.

What had garnered his attention wasn't the mountain sights to see nor the cozy, cheap cabins for rent; no, it was the history. One that has been soaked with blood since it's founding.

This place only seemed to be a magnet for misery and despair. Disasters, fires, murders, and everything else that could go wrong were common occurrences in this cursed town. Many speculated what the cause was— monsters in the night, a witch in the woods, a vengeful spirit haunting the mountains, or simply bad luck. One thing was for certain: this winter wonderland had a dark side that no amount of snow could cover up.

Those seeking excitement, debunkers, and ardent supporters of the supernatural were drawn to this. Tourist traps littered across town saw many people flocking like moths to a flame, which locals were quick to capitalize on. Each one caters to the morbid curiosity and fascination with the town's dark history, offering ghost tours, haunted house experiences, and other macabre attractions.

Just as many took advantage of the town, others frowned at the exploitation of their past, telling the yearly visitors to stop while they were ahead. Despite the warnings from locals about the dangers of delving too deeply into the town's past, visitors continued to flock in, eager to uncover the secrets.

The man had only come to find inspiration. He didn't care for the talk of ghosts, of curses, or even of aliens- funny enough. Not that he ever believed in any of those things to humor even the thought of them.

He was a writer, after all, and all he needed was a good story to tell. And the town of Ravenwood seemed to hold more than enough material for his next bestseller. He thought that the rich, dark history would help rekindle that fire inside him. To let his mind flow once more for his next book, the start of a new series after his last overwhelming success. So far, he had gotten the characters down, the setting figured out, but he only needed that extra push to get the plot ironed out. For months, he had thrown together ideas, ideas he tossed after thinking on them for a bit.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he refocused his vision, looking from the white of his laptop to the window in front of him. The branches of the dead tree in the lawn swayed with the wind, the leaves rustling softly. It was a quiet night; like always, the neighbors always made sure to avoid any disturbances. He straightens his back in his office chair, moving his long bangs back with his hand, releasing some of the tension from his stiff shoulders. The stress of his deadline and unending nagging from his editors had almost made him forget how nice the quiet was. Looking down, he saw the houses all dark and quiet, with only a few dim lights shining through the curtains.

The neighborhood was old but well kept; houses stood with character along the streets. Each one is now decorated for the upcoming holiday, with carved lanterns on almost every porch and tacky decorations adorning the lawn. Something swayed in the wind that caught his eye, chimes jingling from it. It was a talisman.

The same bundle of different herbs, crystals, and wax symbols was hanging from every door in the neighborhood. Supposedly, it was an item to ward off any evil spirits, something they kept up year round. The townsfolk had a sense of unity in their efforts to ward off any negative energy. They seemed to take pride in their traditions and beliefs, creating a unique atmosphere in the community.

As he adjusted to the new surroundings, he finally felt comfortable enough to ask about it. The older woman next door was happy to inform him of the significance. She even made sure to gift him one, her eyes hardening as she warned him to keep it and hang it above his door at all times. Being raised with respect, he took the item with a small, grateful smile, pocketing the item with care before discarding it onto the very desk he sat at. Left and forgotten. When he continued unpacking, he chuckled at the sight of it in his office, unsure of the strong belief in a bundle of twigs and rocks.

Picking the talisman up, he turned it over, his thumb rubbed over the wax seal. Feeling the grooves and ridges of the strange symbol carved into it.

Evidently, he did not take superstition seriously… in the beginning. Even beliefs can change at the drop of a dime. The months he spent in the town had changed him.

In the dark hours of the night, he experienced things that could not logically be explained. It started small. Things that could be explained away by a forgetful mind. His keys disappearing only to come up in a place he would never leave them. Furniture was being moved so slightly that he initially thought it was his imagination. That's what any logical man would do. Chalk it up to his aging mind, even at the age of thirty, or simply an overactive mind caused by insufficient sleep and too much caffeine. But as the occurrences became more frequent and unsettling, he couldn't ignore the feeling that something was off. Shadows seemed to linger longer than they should, and whispers could be heard in empty rooms. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, even when he was completely alone.

Then one day, it all became clear: it was her.

Tap, tap, tap.

A sharp knock jolted him from his thoughts once more; he seemed to be getting more and more lost in his mind as of late. He now saw a figure blocking the moonlight. Well, a normal person would block it. The figure in his window, on the second floor of his house, casts a bluish tint onto him; their body was almost transparent; he could see the branches swaying behind her still. When he finally looked at her face, a sweet smile appeared on her lips.

"Hellloooo!" She called with a singsong voice, tilting her head at him. Hand waving at him excitedly. "You gonna let me in, Sugu?"

[omegaji]

I have been asked to make a dear-creator for non-jadecest (for kidfic exchange treating purposes) and I will Gladly do so

I like any LWJ ship he is my blorbo, but I especially love shipping him with JC and/or WWX 

I am mostly here for omega LWJ content so consider all of this omegaji 👀 

Likes:

Alpha WWX

Grumpy lwj

8-9 months pregnant LWJ

LWJ with twins and triplets

Just LWJ with LOTS of babies

LWJ crooning at his kids, scenting them, cuddling them

Breastfeeding

Angst (happy ending or not)

High drama, intrigue, mystery, horror

Unhealthy relationships 

Dislikes (aside from DNW on my request):

Alpha lwj

CQL canon or designs or anything

More in depth likes / prompts / musings (i’m making these all wangxian but if you wanna make it any other ship i will eat it whole):

40-something LWJ and 20-something alpha WWX and lwj has kids already and wwx wants to seduce him and has all these fantasies of knocking lwj up and lwj is eventually like “if you want me to engage with your breeding kink you have to show me that you have what it takes to parent. Go tell my 14 year old that she can’t go to that party this weekend. I’ll be listening.” Like Hercules and the 12 labors 

LWJ hires WWX as a babysitter for him while he’s in heat. WWX can be alpha or omega. Up to you if Things happen 👀 God this would be a fantastic one for voyeurism  

LWJ having fucked up mother-child relationships like he breastfeeds his kids for way too long and babies them even when they’re teens or adults. WWX can be an enabler or tries to gently pry him away lmao

Wwx comes back and LWJ has several kids already (previous ship or like a sperm donation thing like the one ive written about before in that JC/LQR fic) and he can’t keep up his act or care about lwj being his enemy in his past life bc the kids are all so much like LWJ except like maybe One Crazy One and he cannot handle how cute and funny it is. Amazing one to make lwj heavily pregnant in 👀

Omegaverse preferences

Intersex male omegas and female alphas

Gender and dynamic is assigned at birth rather than presented at puberty

No betas (the rare sigma or other variation of O and A is interesting, and also beta as a non-assigned dynamic but similar to nonbinary gender IRL is interesting)

A and O have noticeable physical differences; omegas on average are shorter and curvier and have softer features, alphas on average are taller and more bulky when they gain muscle and sharper features

A and O to have on average personality differences associated with societal upbringing/socialization (this doesn’t necessarily mean i like my omegas submissive and my alphas dominant, but that they on average tend to be if that’s how society demands it and if someone does not adhere to the gender and dynamic rules then there’s either some kind of consequence or at least it’s noticed)

Basically, I like A and O to have similar effects on people as M and F have in IRL society, so there’s 4 assigned genders (AF, AM, OF, OM) rather than 2

Alpha women and omega men are sort of in-between in terms of social hierarchy and can choose to present masculine or feminine (more-so in the modern era) and it’s seen as normal, they can use whatever gendered terms they identify with

Claims/marks are not permanent and need to be renewed periodically

No capital C Commands

People in heat or rut CAN control themselves, but it is just really difficult to go against what their instincts say

[mochegato]

Pixie Spy

Chapter 8

Chapter 1     Chapter 7

Ladybug swung through the streets as long as she could before the wind became too powerful for her to keep her trajectory. She only managed to make it about halfway to where the team was waiting before the wind became too strong.  She landed on the street with a roll, deciding running would be more effective after the fifth crash into a balcony. She looked down at her yoyo as she ran looking for the dots indicating her team.  Chat, Carapace, and Rena were already together under a bridge along the Seine.  Bee was quickly approaching from the opposite direction.  

Ladybug felt her progress slow as the wind suddenly picked up significantly.  She blinked a few times when she saw a tornado barreling toward her.  She gave a surprised squeak and jumped into an alley to get out of the tornado’s path.  She breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the bricks of the alley wall until she started sliding toward the alley entrance.  Her eyes widened in surprise as she fell back and was sucked toward the tornado.  She threw out her yoyo, capturing a pipe on the other end of the alley and held on as the tornado sucked the dumpsters out of the alley and flung them out into the street, demolishing cars.  She stared at the pipe nervously when it started to bend under the pressure of the tornado’s pull on her.

She felt her body slowly lower as the tornado passed by and the winds died down.  She took a few seconds to catch her breath before walking out to see the devastation. It looked like a bulldozer carved a diagonal path through the neighborhood.  There were buildings destroyed next to buildings that looked completely untouched.  There was wreckage everywhere.  She could see at least one leg just barely sticking out of one of the wrecked buildings.

She scrunched her eyes shut and took a deep breath to focus herself.  He hoped that was the only tornado they had to deal with, but with the way things had been going lately, it was unlikely.  If it was following the regular pattern, the akuma would be flashy and devastating.  While devastating, one tornado was hardly flashy.  What she wouldn’t give for the early days of Mr. Pigeon or even Guitar Villain.  That one was kind of fun actually.  Even as a dragon, Fang was just a big puppy.

“Waiting on you, LB.” She heard over her com.  She looked down and saw Bee had joined the others.   She shook her head and started running again.

“Sorry, got caught up in something.  Weather is crazy today, don’t you think?”  She responded with a fake casualness.

“No idea what you mean, Dudette.” Carapace responded in the same tone.  “I’ve just been chillin’ here watching the trees break in the breeze.”

“Screw you both!” Bee seethed.  “That fucking wind absolutely destroyed my hair.  That bitch is going down.”

“Is it Stormy?”  Ladybug asked.  It seemed like her MO, but it made no sense.  She could do a lot worse.  She had done a lot worse years ago.

“Can confirm, it is Stormy.  I saw the butterfly land.  One guess where.”  Rena added. They knew all knew where it was. With Aurora, it was always her umbrella. “One guess who caused it too.” She added bitterly, her eyes darkened with anger.

Ladybug groaned.  Most of the people at school had figured out to avoid or laugh at Lila, but Aurora still took everything to heart.  She had grown a tougher skin, but criticisms still hurt.  The insinuations still hurt.  The judgement still hurt.  And Lila knew just how to phrase her words to maximize the hurt and capitalize on insecurities.  “Fucking bitch.”  Ladybug muttered under her breath.

“That’s what I said.” Bee bit out.  “And as soon as this is done, I’m killing her.”

Ladybug sighed heavily.  “We don’t kill, Bee.”  Fuck, now she sounded like Batman.  She needed to say something to rid herself of this feeling.

“It won’t be permanent.  I’ll do it before the miraculous ladybug.” Bee dismissed her.

Ladybug opened her mouth to reprimand her but that would be what Batman would do.  What wouldn’t batman do…  “That is very creative thinking, Bee.  I love your creativity and passion.” She said focusing on the positives instead.

She jumped down next to the group just in time to see Bee’s face scrunch up in confusion and disgust.  She turned on Ladybug and shook her finger in her face. “You… you… Don’t do that.  You’re supposed to be our voice of reason.” She slapped Ladybug’s arm.  “It’s creepy when you’re all supportive of my bad ideas.”

“If I wasn’t supportive of your bad ideas, I’d never be supportive.” Ladybug quipped before she thought about it.  As soon as the words were out of her mouth she cringed. Damn, she was moving closer to Batman again.  

Bee gasped dramatically and opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by Chat.  “Yeah, yeah we’ll all just imagine the cutting response.  Can we focus please?”

She sighed and turned to Rena, “So how bad is it?”

“At least twenty smaller tornadoes around the city. And by ‘smaller’ I mean just terrifying and destructive instead of horrifying and catastrophic like the one over there.” She motioned vaguely behind them.  Ladybug looked warily at the rapidly swirling clouds in the sky. “News estimates that one is above an F-5, which is the highest known level.”  She looked up with a haunted look.  “If that thing were to start moving, nothing in the city would be standing. Nothing.”

“So why isn’t it moving?” Carapace asked keeping his eyes on the clouds in the sky.  “Stormy has never held back before.  We know she can do worse.  So why isn’t she?”

“You think there’s something more going on?” Chat asked, furrowing his brow.

“Amok?” Ladybug asked looking at him.

Carapace shrugged.  “Not sure what is going on.  I’m just saying Stormy created a super volcano that almost destroyed us.  A few tornadoes is stepping back a bit.”

Ladybug nodded and returned her gaze to the clouds. She ducked quickly when something came flying over the embankment and almost hit her.  “We aren’t going to be able to get close to her with this wind. We need a way to neutralize the wind if we want to do anything.”  She mused more for herself than the team.  Her eyes darted around to her teammates and up at the sky.  Her mind started running through potential plans and likely outcomes, backups, workarounds, collateral damage, risk assessment.

“We’re going to have to do it without talking too.” Chat noted.  “Once we get up there, nobody is going to be able to hear anything even if we yell.” He turned to them with a small grin. “But, that means we’ll be able to sneak up on her without having to try to be quiet because she won’t be able to hear either.”

Ladybug made a note of his comment, adding it as a potential puzzle piece.  She pursed her lips as the pieces started fitting together.  It would take all of them working together, acting at the right moments, but lean more heavily on Bee than she wanted to.  Not that she didn’t completely trust Bee.  She knew Bee could do it, she just hated putting any of her team on the front lines while she watched from a safe distance.

She was putting the last pieces in place when she heard an eerily sweet voice floating towards them.  “Come out, come out wherever you are, Ladybug and Chat Noir. I want to play.” Stormy’s voice took on a hard edge.  “We can fly a kite.”  There was a short pause before her voice returned to the eerily sweet tone.  “I’ve already provided the wind and everything.”

Rena gave Chat a deadpan look.  “So, not affected by the tornado’s noise and able to make her voice heard over it are part of her powers.”

Chat shrugged sheepishly.  “That’s okay.  We won’t need it to get the akuma.” Ladybug said confidently.  All of the eyes turned to her, ready to take her orders. “Carapace, you’re going to create a shelter for us to hide in on a roof close enough to observe, but not so close the building might collapse under us.  Then create a tunnel through the tornado to the eye, but you’re going to need to create it from higher up.  Bee, you’re going to need the flying power up so you can fly through the tunnel into the eye. You’re going to drop down on her from above and use Venom to incapacitate her.  Rena, on Bee’s mark, you’re going to create an illusion that the tornadoes are gone.  The devastation will still be there, but her tornadoes will be gone.  Bee will take advantage of her confusion to deliver the venom.  Chat and I will keep an eye out for the amok, but this plan is mostly on your shoulders, Bee.”

“If she can talk through the wind then I imagine she can see through it too.”  Chat commented somberly, looking around at the buildings near them and trying to remember the buildings around the Champ de Mars or the Trocadero.  “We’ll want to pick a rooftop that gives us a view but that won’t allow her to see us.”  He pulled up a map on his baton and examined it for a few seconds.  “This one should work.” He turned and showed them the building he had in mind.  He stared at Rena a few second and cocked his head to the side.  “Or, we just have Rena hide us.  Can you make that part of your illusion?  Hiding us as well?”

“It will get a bit complicated getting the different layers and timing and complexities to work together, but I should be able to do it.” Rena nodded slowly, staring at nothing while she fit the pieces together in her head.

Ladybug nodded.  “Good idea, Chat.  Rena, can you give us some cover while we get there, too?”

“On it, LB.” Rena jerked out of her thoughts and nodded at her before playing her flute.  “Mirage.” They looked around but nothing looked different.

“Uh… Babe?” Carapace started, looking around in confusion.

Rena gasped dramatically.  “You doubt me?”  Carapace rolled his eyes at her.  Rena laughed at him.  “It’s like a screen around this area, a screen showing a picture.  Anyone on the other side won’t see any changes.  We can move as much as we want and they won’t see it.”

“So are we moving or are we just going to hang out here until Stormy gets bored with us and moves on?”  Bee asked annoyed with the lack of movement.  

“Come on guys, we’re going to make her late for her spa appointment if we don’t move and Lord knows we wouldn’t want to be responsible for that kind of travesty.”  Rena snickered.

“No, you wouldn’t.” Bee snapped.  “Those spa appointments are the one thing that keep me from killing you all.”

“On that sweet, teambuilding comment, let’s get started.  The sooner we stop this the better.” Ladybug grumbled.

They made their way to the rooftop, occasionally dodging random objects flying.  “That was a…” Carapace’s eyes followed the object as it flew out of view.  He whipped his head around to Rena, looking at her apprehensively.  “There wasn’t a baby in that stroller, right?  It was empty?”

“No Babe, there was no baby in the stroller.” Rena assured him.  “It’s okay. The baby is safe.  It was empty.”

Carapace nodded at her words. “Okay, good.  Good.  Good.” Rena looked over at Chat and grimaced. Chat gave her a sympathetic look and patted her on the back.

As soon as they landed on the roof Carapace called for shelter and Rena called for a new mirage.  They huddled together under the camouflaged green dome and assessed the situation.  From their new perch, the scene looked more horrific.  The tornado was even more massive than before.  Ladybug expected the buildings surrounding the area to start crumbling any second now.  If the tornado moved even a few feet in either direction, they definitely would.

“Everyone knows their job.  Everyone ready?”  Ladybug looked at all of them seriously, looking for any signs of uncertainty before they started, especially from Bee.  She was the one taking all the risks.  She was the one they needed permission to start from.

Bee looked at her confidently.  “I’m ready to go.” She said with conviction.  She detransformed, pulled a power up out of her purse, and handed it to Pollen.  As soon as Pollen was done, she called on her transformation again and looked back at Ladybug with a smile.  “Let’s do this.  I’ve got an appointment to get to.”

Ladybug nodded to her.  “We don’t want to make her late for that.” Ladybug smiled slightly. “Rena, Carapace, you’re up.”

Rena called for Mirage again, camouflaging the area where the tunnel was going with just a few notes from her flute. Carapace moved forward and called out, “Tunnel.”  A green tunnel only they could see formed in the sky linking the shelter and running through the side of the tornado.  As soon as he nodded to Bee, she extended her wings and started beating them.  She rose slowly off the ground.  Thank God they had practiced with the power ups before. Otherwise she would be a jerky, uncontrolled mess right now, plus it was just extremely cool practice, much more fun than the fire resistance training.  She gave them one last look before flying into the tunnel.  After a few seconds, they heard a beep on their coms indicating Bee was in position.  “Rena,” Ladybug cued her quietly.  

“Mirage,” Rena called out again.  This time, they all saw the change.  The scene looked completely different.  Not only was the tornado gone, but the trees appeared to have stopped blowing, standing tall and unbroken.  They could almost believe what they were seeing if they couldn’t hear the wind against the outside of the shelter and on Bee’s coms.  “She should be able to see what’s in the eye but nothing outside of it.  That goes for both of them.” Rena reported.  “Nothing except what I want them to see.”

They waited with baited breath for something to change, for the wind to stop or Bee to say something.  They stared so hard at the spot where the tornado had been that it was amazing none of them broke any blood vessels in their eyes.  Ladybug let out a loud yelp when she felt something touch her.  She looked over and saw Chat give her a sheepish look and continue to pat her hand comfortingly a few more times.  She let out a strangled sigh and turned back to the spot

The sound of the wind was starting to drive Ladybug crazy.  It was a constant reminder that things had not changed.  That Bee was still in danger.  That she was out there by herself, with no backup.  If anything happened to her, they would be too late to help.  She was alone and Ladybug had sent her there.

After a few minutes they finally heard a break in the white noise the wind had become.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t the easing of the wind as they had hoped.  They all jumped and Rena’s illusion disappeared as Bee’s screaming rang in their ears.

“Bee, report!” Ladybug screamed.  “Carapace, kill the tunnel.  Bee, report.  Are you okay? Bee!”  Ladybug was getting more and more frantic with each word.  She checked her yoyo for Bee’s beacon.  It started blinking a few blocks away.  “Damn it!  I should have sent backup with her.  Rena, Carapace please go check on her.”

“I’m fine.  I’ll…” she cut off her sentence with a groan.  “Yeah, these bricks are definitely hard.” She reported as she slid down the side of the building she had been thrown into.  “There’s definitely an amok, by the way.  The little bastard can ride the tornadoes and jumped me while I was focused on Stormy.” Bee groaned rolling onto her hands and knees.

“Bee, do you think you can get back here on your own or do you need a bit of assistance?”  Ladybug asked gently.

“While I appreciate the offer of my own personal sedia gestatoria, and it is much deserved, I think I can make it myself.” She answered proudly but her voice was ragged.

Ladybug turned her com off and turned to Rena and Carapace.  “Can you two go escort her anyway?  She’s already weak after what I’m sure was a hell of a hit.  If she gets caught in one of those random tornadoes, she might not be able to get out of the way in time.”

“Will do, LB.” Rena saluted her.  “Come on Carapace.  I’ll race you.”  Rena took off running.  Carapace gave them a weak smile and followed after her.

“Sending your underlings instead of dealing with me yourself, Ladybug?  I’m hurt. I thought we meant more to each other. I just wanted to play.  My little pet wanted to play, too.  Unfortunately, your little pet Bee just wasn’t strong enough to handle him.”  Stormy taunted, laughing eerily.  “What do I need to do to get your attention?  Should I send my pet after all of your little pets?”

“Right,” Chat grimaced at the thought of the pain he could hear in Bee’s voice.  “I think we could use a bit of Luck right about now.  What do you think, m’lady?”

Ladybug nodded still looking at the growing tornado. “I think you’re right, Chaton. Lucky Charm!” Ladybug called out throwing her yoyo into the air.  She stared in bewilderment at the object that dropped into her hands.  “Seriously?  What am I supposed to do with this?”

She continued staring at the very distinctive red, full face mask now adorned with black dots that had dropped into her hands. Her mind raced through the possibilities.  Was she supposed to wear it?  Was Chat? Someone else?  Was she supposed to throw it at someone?  Did it have a voice changer she was supposed to use?  Some kind of analytical software she could use? She could throw it into the tornado and it would become a deadly weapon as the force of the wind launched it. With her luck, it might hit Stormy… but that didn’t feel right.  What did Tikki intend?

Chat cocked his head to the side staring at it with doubt as well.  “Do you think it means he is supposed to help us with Stormy?”

Ladybug shook her head.  “I doubt it.  It is never that straight forward for me.  If it was you, I would say that was what it meant, but Tikki always makes it more difficult than that.” She huffed in frustration.  She looked around them seeing if anything jumped out at her.

“Maybe he has something you need then.  Like when Tikki used to give you Lucky Charms to let you know you needed to go see Master Fu?” Chat offered uncertainly.

Ladybug’s eyes lit up.  “Yes!  That’s it. Great idea, Chat!  That is exactly what it means.” She stood up to find Jason. “Hold down the fort.  I’ll be back as soon as I can.  Let me know if anything changes I need to know about.” He nodded to her, his eyes turning hard as he watched the swirling clouds above her as she swung away.

<><><><><> 

Ladybug ran until she was out of Stormy’s tornado’s range then switched to swinging back toward where she had left Jason. She really needed to get his phone number.  It would be a lot easier finding him if she could just call him.  As it was, she was going to have to hope he stayed near where she left him and ignored his own self-interests to find a safe place to hide.  If he was already hunkered down somewhere safe, she would never find him.  Of course if he wasn’t hiding somewhere safe, she was going to kill him.

She reached the alley she had left him and pushed down a blush as memories of what had happened, what almost happened, came flooding back.  She turned away instead and started jumping from rooftop to rooftop, keeping a keen eye on the alleys and any place that looked like it could be used as a hiding place.  She finally found him walking a few blocks away, keeping close to the buildings. She dropped down into an alley just in front of him and reached out to pull him in with her as soon as he passed by.

He whipped his head around in shock, tensing his body ready to fight whoever had grabbed him.  He immediately lowered his fist when she saw Ladybug’s raised eyebrow, giving her a dashing grin instead.  “Ladybug, Paris’ hero.” He looked her up and down, his smile turning into a smug smirk. “You're quite a bit shorter than I expected.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.  “Red Hood, vigilante of Gotham.  You're quite a bit assholier than I expected.”  

His grin grew larger.  “I haven’t even gotten into my rhythm yet.”  She rolled her eyes at him and punched him hard in the shoulder.  He winced in pain.  “What was that for?”

“You couldn’t find a better place to hide than on the street?  Out in the open?  Where you have absolutely no cover or protection?”  A bit of concerned annoyance coming through in her voice.

“I don’t know what I’m hiding from and I wanted to see you in action.” He shrugged, wincing only slightly at the movement, his grin firmly in place.

“Tornadoes.  Lots of them. Some stronger than others.” She huffed, looking to the alley entrance with apprehension.   “Speaking of which, what do you have on you?”

He frowned at her in confusion at the seeming change of topic.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what do you have on you.  What equipment do you have on you?” She prompted him.

“Why do you need to know that?” He asked as he started reaching into his pockets and pulling out weapons.  He lined them up on top of the dumpster lid as he pulled them out.

“My Lucky Charm gives me clues or tools to help me defeat an akuma.  My Lucky Charm today was this.” She held up the black spotted mask Tikki had provided earlier.

“That’s… that’s my mask.  Wouldn’t that mean you need me?  It’s telling you to let me help.”  He looked at her seriously as he pulled a knife out of his sleeve and placed it on the lid.

She shook her head at him. “No, it is never that straightforward, at least not for me.  It is always a windy path to get to the real significance.  And whenever it points me to a particular person, it means they have something I need to use; a tool, a weapon, information, something.  I just need to figure it out.  I’ll know it when I see it.”  She watched in surprise and a bit of shock, as he pulled more weapons and tools out of his coat pockets, around his ankles, belt.  “That’s… What the fuck?  Seriously?”

He shrugged at her.  “I travelled light today.”

She stared at him blank faced for a second.  “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not and I don’t think I want to know.” He gave her a dashing grin as he pulled out the last few items from a hidden pocket.  She looked down to assess the items he had laid out.  The last few items turned red with black spots. “There!” She pointed to them. “What are those?”

“These?  Trackers. You plant them on someone or something and you can follow them if you have the frequency.”  She nodded as he spoke.  The pieces of the plan started forming in her mind.  “It’s accurate to about 3 feet.”  

She suddenly looked up at him with a calculated grin.  “That is very helpful to know.  Can I borrow these?”  She asked as she grabbed them and dropped them into her yoyo.

“Uh… I guess.  What are you going to do?”

“Track someone.”  He huffed at her but didn’t challenge her.  “You might want to put those away before another tornado comes through and starts flinging them around too.  Find somewhere safe to hide and stay out of trouble.” She pointed her finger at him.

He moved a step closer to her and gave her another dashing smile as he started tucking weapons away.  “Not my strong suit, either part, not going to lie.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and gave him an amused smile even as she groaned mentally at herself.  He really shouldn’t look that sexy just putting weapons away.  What did it say about her that him tucking a gun into a holster made it hard for her to breathe?  “And what is your strong suit?”

He took another step closer.  “Being handsome and charming.” He smiled wider as she rolled her eyes at him. “And causing equal and opposite trouble.”

“Well, I have enough trouble to deal with right now, so if you could contain your chaotic good for a bit, I’d greatly appreciate it.”  She gave him a wry smile.

His eyes turned hard.  “I can help. I can plant the tracker.  I have years of experience doing it and massive amounts of training sneaking up on people.”

She gave him a pained look.  “You don’t have any protection.  Even with magically protective suits one of the team already got hurt.  So unless you’re going to tell me you’re invulnerable, I don’t know that it’s a good idea.  And we haven’t had the chance to figure out how you’re going to fit into all this and with the team.  We haven’t even gotten the team to agree that you are allowed to fit in here.  We don’t have time to figure this out now.”  Her eyes softened a bit as her expression turned more solemn.  “Seriously, there are at least 20 random tornadoes tearing through town destroying buildings and throwing cars, among other things.  The one she has shielding herself is worse. Please, find some place safe to hide until we take care of this.”

He looked up ready to assure her that he has fought worse but instead, caught her eyes, which was a fatal mistake.  She eyes were saturated with worry and fear for him.  He’d seen that look before.  He had that look when he was still Robin and Dick would do something stupid, more stupid and self-sacrificing than usual.  

He gave out a deep sigh and dropped his head.  He looked back up to her, his eyes took on a concerned look.  He stepped closer to her again, close enough now to pull her close, to lean down and kiss her if they wanted.  He reached to caress her face instead.  He nodded slowly.  “Alright.  I’ll hide. But you need to promise to be careful. I didn’t finally find you just for you to die on me.”

She stared into his eyes and leaned into his hand.  She opened her mouth to respond when something from the corner of her eye caught her attention.  “Look out!” She screamed tackling him to the ground.  They landed just as a table shattered against the wall they had been standing in front of.  She stared at the table in dismay and back out to the street, searching for the tornado that had caused the table to fly at them.  She inched closer to the opening to look around, but the tornado had already passed.  “I really have to go.  Get somewhere safe!  That table means there is a tornado in the area.  And these are magical tornadoes so they don’t follow normal tornado rules. Just because it passed already doesn’t mean it won’t come back.”  He nodded to her just before she swung away.

He stood there for a few minutes looking in the direction she had swung. He looked out to the street in front of him assessing the potential danger and trying to figure out the best place to hunker down for the storms, ideally some place that would still allow him to watch the fight.  The alley was fairly safe but exposed and he didn’t know how much longer it would be safe, especially if Marinette was right about a tornado coming.  Plus, there was no way to see the fight and he was dying to see her in action.

He considered his options for a few seconds before realizing he didn’t know where she would be fighting.  He gave a disappointed curse realizing he would have to wait to see her actually fight. He might as well follow her instructions and find a better place to hide.  He walked a few blocks before he saw signs of a tornado.

Whereas the street he had been on looked pristine, when he turned the corner, there was carnage.  Cars had been thrown on their sides, bikes were thrown through windows, balcony tables and chairs were laying broken against buildings, and more than a few bodies were laying under some of the wreckage.  He walked near the bodies, searching for signs of life.  He sighed as none of them moved.  He started walking again when he heard crying and scratching.  He followed the source to a mailbox in the side of a building.

He ripped the mailbox door and was met with wide, terrified green eyes, familiar green eyes.  “You’re the kid from the bakery.” He said in English before he could catch himself.  The kid’s eyes got impossibly bigger and started babbling to him in French.  Damn it! Jason cursed to himself.  This was going to be a crash course in French.  He was fluent at some point, years ago, but disuse had dulled his memory. He thought about it for a few seconds, mentally switching to French.  He just had to think of this like a mission and access those parts of his brain… quickly.

“I saw you in the bakery.  I’m Marinette’s friend Jason.  We need to go somewhere safe.  Are you okay? What is your name?”  He tried to give the kid a soft smile, making himself look as unthreatening as possible for a 6 foot, 225 pound man could seem.  Kids in Gotham knew he was dangerous but only against the bad guys, not kids.  He didn’t think this kid would be able to differentiate.  

The terrified look lightened only slightly as he responded.  “You know Marinette?” Jason smiled bigger as he nodded in response.  The assurance seemed to work as the kid relaxed a bit and looked around.  “My name is August.  Have you seen my father?  He put me in here when the wind came.”

Jason looked away and tried to hide his grimace.  He had seen a few men on the street, none of them alive.  “You know, I’m sure he found a place to hide from the big wind.  I’m sure he’s safe somewhere.  We can find him after Ladybug fixes everything.  We can have Marinette call him to let him know where you are, but now that we have a chance, we should find someplace safer.  Is it okay if I get you out?”

He waited until August nodded at him before lifting him out of the box.  He set him down on the ground but August clung to his arms.  Jason smiled comfortingly at him and settled him on his hip instead.  “Okay, August.  Let’s find a place to hide, yeah?”  August gave him a watery smile.

He started walking, holding the little boy close to his chest, shielding his head so he couldn’t see what was happening around him.  He just needed a safe place for them to hide, a building with a basement ideally.  Like he would know that from here he grumbled to himself, and he didn’t have the time to get it wrong.  Fuck! He should have done better reconnaissance, or any, before he came.  They had walked another block and still hadn’t seen anything that looked promising. Pretty soon he was going to have to take what he could get.  The wind was starting to pick up again, giving him the terrifying feeling that another tornado was headed their way.

He growled in frustration and looked around him again concentrating on the buildings.  Surely there was a metro somewhere, right?  He hadn’t seen a sign for blocks.  They passed by a pile of cars and paused hearing pounding and screaming from under the cars.  He searched for the source of the sound.  His eyes widened in horror as he realized where it was coming from.  A young girl had gotten trapped between a building wall and the pile of cars and was beating the cars trying to get free.  He set August down with a reassuring smile and pushed the car on top out of the way.  He reached down and grabbed the girl.  She looked up at him with wide eyes and screamed.

He flinched at the scream and sighed in acceptance.  “Yeah, I guess I deserved that.  I’m here to help not take you.  It isn’t safe out here and it’s about to get much less safe.”

She looked at him suspiciously, ready to say no to the giant of a man with scars who had grabbed her, until a head popped out from behind him.  “Manon!”

“August!”  She reached out to hug him but Jason grabbed her instead.  

“Hugs after we are safe.  It is getting worse by the second.”  He looked around for a good place to hide with the two kids.  Nothing much around them, a few shops, a few restaurants, a wine shop, a bookstore…  Wait! He instantly started moving.  When he finally reached the door, it was locked. “Who the fuc… why would you bother locking your doors during this?” he exclaimed loudly.  “Okay, move over here for a second… and don’t do this yourself.” He rammed his elbow through the door’s glass, shattering the glass panel near the handle.  He reached in to open the door, scratching his arm as he did. He hissed in pain but hid it from the kids.

“Why here?” Manon called loudly to be heard over the wind.

“Because wine shops have wine cellars.” Jason explained calmly.  “Now in you go.” He pushed her through the door, following with August close behind.

<><><><><> 

Ladybug landed inelegantly next to the team, taking a few seconds to steady herself against the sudden lack of wind.  “I have a plan.”  She smiled at them.

“Well then let’s hear it.” Rena encouraged her.

“Something better than the last one would be appreciated.” Bee grumbled.

“Sucks for you.  Exactly the same plan as last time… kind of.” Ladybug smirked at them.

The sound of four people groaning at the same time made Ladybug smile even wider.  “Dudette, maybe you missed how it turned out last time, but we lost.”

“I have faith this time will be luckier.” She smiled cheerily.  “And we’re going to build failure into the plan… or at least the appearance of failure.” She looked over at Bee with a conspiratorial smile.  “You’re going to lead them into a false sense of security thinking we are trying the same thing again, but the real goal…” she leaned in closer as she pulled the trackers out of her yoyo, “… is to plant one of these.”

“And what the fuck are those?” Bee demanded unceremoniously.  “And just how the fuck are they supposed to change anything?”

“These my lovely pain in the ass, are tracking beacons.  Carapace, you will do the exact same thing as before.  You will create a tunnel from above through her tornado.  Rena, you will create the camouflage illusion on the tunnel, Bee, and yourself this time.  And you will need to use your flying power up.”  Rena gave her a skeptical look.

“Bee, you’ll have to use my or Chat’s flying power up.  Apologize to Pollen that it isn’t in her flavor.  I suggest using mine.  I don’t think Pollen will appreciate the cheese power up.” Bee huffed out a loud breath at the thought of that.  Pollen would not react well to the disrespect.  Chloe was going to have to lavish her with praise for days to make up for it.

“I hope you know what you are doing.  Pollen will not appreciate this.” Chloe grumbled as she crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head away.

“I understand and please explain how eternally grateful we are for how magnanimous she is in agreeing to this.” Ladybug rolled her eyes as she said it.  “You’re going to pretend to try to take her out with venom again but it is a cover for Rena to plant this on her.” She said holding up the tracker before tossing it over to Rena. “And for you to actually get the amok with the venom instead.

“Rena, you stay camouflaged and try to plant that on her.  If anything happens to Rena while she is planting it, Bee, you take advantage of her distraction to plant yours on her.”  Ladybug tossed another tracker to her.  “Once you have them planted, notify me and Chat.  We will take her from there from below.  Your sole focus will be the amok.  We need you to restrain it until we can find the possessed item and free the feather.  Hopefully, when we deakumatize Aurora, she’ll know where the item is or at least what it is.”

Chat eyed Ladybug suspiciously, slowly nodding as he picked out the key words he needed to figure out her plan, all the pieces quickly falling into place.  “We’ll have to act quickly,” he warned her.

Ladybug nodded at him, “Getting the umbrella will be the top priority.  Whichever of us sees an opening, we take it.”

“Hey Wonder Twins, care to let the rest of us mere mortals in on your part of the plan?” Rena asked unamused.  Honestly, it was freaky how they could read each other’s minds sometimes.  One of them would say one part of an idea and the other would act on it before anyone else had even comprehended what they had said in the first place.  She understood that they had been partners for years now but if she didn’t know better, she would swear there was more to it than that.  And that asshole cat better not be trying to replace her as Marinette’s best friend. She could and would skin a cat.

“We’re going to go into the sewers.  We’ll use the trackers to know exactly where she is…” Chat started to explain.

“Within three feet.” Ladybug corrected.  Chat gave her a questioning look.  “He said there is a three foot uncertainty radius.”

Chat nodded, “…approximately where she is and get right under her.  I’ll use Black Hole to create a hole under her, dropping her into the sewers with us.” Chat finished with a smile.

Carapace nodded at the explanation.  “Removing her from the tornadoes.  As long as you act quickly, her biggest asset is gone.  Good thinking, Dudette.”  

Ladybug smiled at him.  “Thanks Carapace.  We’ll need you to get as close as you feel is safe as well.  We’ll follow you on our maps so we can get close to where we will need to be.”  She turned to the rest of the team, her face turning serious.  “Okay, we have the plan, everyone knows their parts.  Let’s get out there.  Good luck guys.  Keep us updated.”

<><><><><> 

“Why are we down here?” Manon asked annoyed.

“That’s what you do in a…” Jason started but quickly realized he never learned the French word for tornado.  Honestly, why would he.  It wasn’t something they experienced.  “…tornado.” He finished in English.

Manon let out a critical huff and provided the French word for him.  “Thanks” he grumbled.

“Why?” August scrunched his nose.

“I know you guys aren’t familiar with them, but tornados destroy things, like buildings.  So you go underground.  It’s safe underground.”

“Like the sewers?” August asked.

Jason cocked his head to the side to consider that.  “That also would have worked.” He nodded slowly.  “But we’re going to stay here.  We’re not going to risk moving.  We will be safe here.”

“Not worth getting dirty.  It’s just Stormy Weather.”  Manon showed them her phone which was playing the news.  “They’ve fought against her before.  They know what to do.”  She continued flippantly.  Jason stared at her trying to figure out if it was an act or not.  He’d seen enough kids acting tough so they didn’t seem vulnerable and comfort the kids around them, to know it when he saw it.  It was a constant for the older kids on the street when he was growing up.  The older kids did it for the younger kids.  It was a rite of passage.

She was more scared than she was letting on but Jason couldn’t tell how scared she was.  August’s reaction to her was immediate though.  He started nodding at her, thinking over what she was saying.  The concern in his expression lessening with each nod. Manon continued to watch the news program as Jason took a seat, pulling out his phone as well.  

After a few minutes, Manon sat near him and sighed.  “Poor Aurora.  She’s such a nice person, too.  I wonder what happened this time.”

“Trying to destroy an entire city isn’t what I’d call nice.” Jason scoffed.

Manon shrugged, keeping her focus on her phone. “It’s not really her though. It’s the akuma.  It makes you do things you would never have wanted to do. It takes over.”  She paused for a few seconds seeming to stare past her phone. “And you don’t remember what you’ve done after.  You have to watch it later.  It’s like you’re watching a stranger, but it’s you.  It’s so wrong.”

She said it with such conviction, so much confidence, like she was speaking from personal experience.  Jason felt his stomach sink with the realization.  “Have you ever become an akuma?”  He hated saying the words but he hated the look that crossed her face when he asked even worse.  The look of guilt and horror, the same look he saw in the mirror when he would get a flash of something he had done immediately after getting out of the pit.

“Yeah… more than once.”  She said it quietly, still looking at her phone in an unseeing stare.

“Not as much as me,” August said sadly, taking a seat between the two of them.

“You’ve been an akuma too?  Christ, you’re still a baby!” Jason exclaimed loudly.

“I’m not a baby!” August cried out.

“You were when you were first akumatized.” Manon pointed out.

August shrunk in on himself.  “It’s okay August.” Manon reassured him, pulling him into a side hug.  “I swear there are more people who have been akumatized than haven’t been and it’s not like you’ve been akumatized that many times.”

“More than you.” He said sadly.

“Well yeah, but not like M. Pigeon numbers.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Or is it M. Rat now?”

“Rat for a while before he stopped getting akumatized.” August confirmed.  “I liked him.  He was fun to watch.”

“Wait, wait, wait.  Just hold up a second.  There’s a guy that turns into a pigeon or rat that has been turned into an akuma dozens of times?”  Jason asked shaking his head.  What the hell kind of demented Disney movie was going on here?

“No, he controls the pigeons or rats.  He is a big animal lover and anytime he thinks someone is abusing the animals, he gets upset.  Like really upset.  Akumatization level upset.  Really nice guy normally.”  Manon explained calmly.

Jason nodded thinking over what she had said, so more Steven King than Disney. “How many kids have become akumas?” Jason asked a bit scared of the answer.

“How young are you looking for?  August was the youngest, he was like what 6 months old when you first got akumatized?” She looked over to him for confirmation. August shrugged.  “I was about his age when I first got akumatized.  He doesn’t go for kids as often as adults, but he doesn’t avoid us.  I don’t think.  Maybe this is holding back.  How would we know?”  As she spoke her eyes got darker and darker, anger starting to show through her detached façade.

“Holy fu…” he looked down at August and immediately clamped his mouth shut.  “Uh… that sounds… traumatic.”

Manon let out a loud scoff.  “Not nearly as traumatic as living through the other side of it.”  Jason looked at her curiously, encouraging her to say more. “Most kids I know have died at least once.  They’ve lost a parent right in front of them, some while they were holding them. They’ve lost friends, watched them die or get hurt.  Most have experienced all three.”  

Jason watched her eyes take on a haunted look as she spoke.  “And if you’ve been akumatized more than once it’s like people are just waiting for you to get akumatized again.  Put them through that again.”

“Yeah.”  August agreed quietly.  His whole body seemed to collapse in on itself in guilt.  Just looking at him hurt Jason.  All he wanted was to bring his mood back up.

“Not everyone though, right?  Marinette seems to like you.” Jason reassured him.

“Yeah, she likes me.  But that’s Marinette she likes everyone.”  August waved him off.

“Pft, not everyone.” Manon scoffed quietly.  Jason raised his eyebrow at that.  He’d have to ask Marinette about it later.  She didn’t seem the type to dislike people enough that a random kid would know about who she liked or didn’t.  He knew she had an issue with Constantine… and apparently Batman, who didn’t though, and the rest of the Gotham vigilantes… and the entire Justice League… okay, maybe it made sense that the kid would pick up on some things.

Instead, he turned back to August.  “Maybe, but she seems to like you.  She must really think you’re a good kid.  I mean she was sneaking you treats at the counter.  I’m sure she doesn’t do that for just anyone.”

Manon whipped her head to August.  August almost jumped when she yelled at him, “She gives you treats?”

<><><><><> 

“How do we always end up down here?”  Chat whined eyeing a patch of slick green something oozing down the sewer walls.

“Lucky I guess.  It’s where we do our best work after all.  We have a pretty good track record down here.” Ladybug quipped without looking up from the map display on her yoyo.  “We need to take a left up here.  We’re getting close.”

“You think it’s going to work this time?” Chat breathed out.  He had faith in their teammates but he knew Bee was not working on full capacity. She took the failure hard.  She would fight hard, but when Chloe doubted herself, it took a while to build her confidence back up.  And he couldn’t help.  He was stuck down in the sewers only able to hear their reports.  If anything happened, he and Ladybug wouldn’t be able to do anything or even know what happened.

“I have faith.  Our team can do this and they will.  Bee always rises to the challenge.” She assured him as though she could read his true concern.  

“Mirage.” They heard Rena say over the coms.

“Tunnel is up.” Carapace reported.

“Rena and I are going in.  You guys close or are we going to have to buy time for you slowpokes?” Bee asked.

Ladybug rolled her eyes at Chat but smiled along with him.  Bee was snarking at them.  That was a good sign.  “We’re close. Don’t wait on us.  We’d hate to hold you guys back.”

“We’re good enough to pick up your slack.” Bee quipped, the accompanying hair flip evident in her tone.

“Right behind you on 3.” Rena paused before counting down.  “3, 2, 1, and go.”

Chat shook his head and took a deep breath. It would be fine.  They would get the job done.  Alya and Chloe might fight like sisters but they defended each other like sisters too.  They would have each other’s backs and together they were a force to be reckoned with. His anxiety would lessen significantly if he could just see what was happening.  It was the being in the dark that made it all so much worse.

Chat and Ladybug made their way toward Carapace’s tracker in a tense silence, hands flinching towards their coms every time a grunt or groan or squawk came over the coms.  Their footsteps hesitated when they heard Chloe whisper venom.  Ladybug glanced back to him.  They both took another deep breath and nodded to each other. Things were about to happen and they needed to be prepared.  They were close to Carapace’s tracker already but moved with more urgency to close the gap.

“We’re here.” Ladybug reported over the coms.

“Working on it.” Bee grunted.

“Behind you!” Rena screamed.  They heard some more grunting and the second tracker appear on the yoyo and baton screens.

“We got her, Rena.  Go help Bee.” Ladybug ordered.  “Ready, Chat?”  She braced herself and settled into a battle ready position when Chat nodded at her and moved closer to the spot on his screen.

“Black hole,” he whispered.  Speaking at full voice seemed irreverent in the quiet darkness of the sewer.  He took a deep breath and took a running start.  He planted his baton, extending it as he rose in the air.  The highest point of the arc hit exactly where the tracker marked.  He touched the ceiling as he sailed by, allowing his magic to create a large hole that went through to the street above.  He landed with a roll.  He pivoted as soon as he came to a stop, holding his own battle ready position, ready to pounce the moment he caught sight of Stormy.

He didn’t have to wait.  Before he had even pivoted Stormy was already in sight, falling toward the sewer water.  Chat jumped at her reaching to grab her umbrella before she could start another tornado down there.  In their confined area, a tornado would be too strong and there would be no place to hide.

Stormy pulled her umbrella out of his reach just as he was about to lay his fingers on it.  She held it above her head, giving him an irate look.  “Stupid cat!  Did you think that is all it would take to defeat me?” She sneered.

She jerked back in shock as a yoyo wrapped around the umbrella and yanked it from her hands.  “Yes, yes we did.” Ladybug responded with a self-satisfied smirk as the umbrella landed in her hands.

“NO,” Stormy screeched.  She reached out for the umbrella but fell to the floor instead when Ladybug broke the umbrella and a little purple and black akuma fluttered out of it.

“No more evil doing for you little akuma. Time to de-evilize.” Ladybug twirled her yoyo around in a circle a few times and threw it up to capture the akuma. Ladybug pulled the yoyo back to her and opened it again, allowing the now white butterfly to flutter out harmlessly. “Bye, bye little butterfly.”  She waved peacefully at the butterfly.

While Ladybug was purifying the akuma, Chat ran over to Aurora.  “Hey, Aurora. How are you doing?  Are you okay?” He asked looking at her with concern. Aurora was a good person to begin with and had a fairly good temperament.  She had been taking classes on how to control her temper on top of that, so whatever happened it must have been pretty bad.

Aurora looked around in a daze and held her head for a few seconds before she could respond.  “Chat Noir?” She examined his face for a few moments to confirm it was him. She looked around until she saw Ladybug releasing the purified akuma.  Her shoulders slumped and her face fell.  “Oh no,” she whispered to the ground.  “I did it again didn’t I?” She looked up at Chat with pained eyes.  Chat gave her a sympathetic smile and rubbed her back.  “How bad this time?” she looked back to the ground again trying to brace for the answer.

“I’m not sure.  It was a few tornadoes but it could have been a lot worse.” He gave her a side hug when he saw some tears fall down her cheeks.  

“We got the amok tied up, Ladybug.” Rena reported. “And you might want to hurry and find the item, Bee got hit this time and worse than I did.”

Chat looked up at Ladybug.  She looked at him questioningly.  He looked over Aurora, trying to find anything that stood out. When he didn’t see anything, he looked through her bag.  His eyes lit up when he saw what he was looking for.  He grabbed the kite and threw it over to Ladybug.

Ladybug looked at Chat questioningly.  He nodded to her letting her know he would handle Aurora for now and meet her up top.  She made a motion with the kite, letting him know she would purify it topside, so Aurora didn’t have to see it.

Once Chat nodded in silent understanding, Ladybug nodded back and spoke into the coms. “Got it.  We’ll be right there.”

Chat leaned in closer to Aurora and lowered his voice conspiratorially, “Personally, I think you might have been holding back. We both know you could have done far, far worse but you didn’t.  That takes a lot of strength.”

She looked up at him with wide eyes.  “You really think so?”  Hope permeated her voice and expression.

Chat smiled at her.  “Yeah, I do.  I think you were trying to give us a clue about where the amok was as well.”  She looked up at him with wide eyes.  

“There was an amok too, huh?”  She gave him a weak, guilt laden smile.  “Guess I should have expected that by now.”  

“Yeah, but we took care of it.  Now, ready to get back topside?”  She gave him a weak smile and nodded.  “Okay, hold on.”  He grabbed her into a princess hold and jumped through the hole, using his baton to give him more height.

As soon as they landed, they heard Ladybug call out “Miraculous Ladybug.”  He let out a relieved breath and turned back to Aurora who was watching the miraculous ladybugs swarming throughout the city fixing all the damage with an apologetic look.

Rena joined them with a sympathetic smile for Aurora.  “Hey, Aurora. Sorry this happened to you.  You are a good person.  We know you would never have wanted this.  You didn’t deserve this.  You are a victim too.”  She gave Aurora a hug.

Aurora pulled back and looked at both of them with a smile that was a little stronger than the last one.  “Thank you and thank you for saving me.”

Rena gave her a smile.  The rest of the team came up behind Rena, all smiling at Aurora, except Bee who leaned against a recently returned car and examined her nails. “We done here or what?”

Ladybug scowled at her and turned back to Aurora. “Do you need a ride to your next destination?”

Aurora shook her head.  “No, I’ll walk.  Thank you though.  I think I need the space to process.”

The team smiled at her and nodded in understanding. Aurora waved to them and walked toward her office.

Chat looked at Ladybug with a grin on his face.  “Hey m’lady, ask me how I think we did today.”

Ladybug groaned.  She knew that look.  That was never a good look.  She knew she was going to regret it but she couldn’t deny him this simple pleasure, something to bring his mood back up.  “Okay Chat, how do you think we did today?”

His grin grew even wider and his eyes lit up with excitement that she was willing to play along.  “I was blown away by our performance.”  He started laughing at his own joke.  Ladybug groaned even louder and hid her face in her hands, but Bee smacked him upside the head hard enough for his head to jerk forward making him laugh even harder.

“Thank you!” Rena groaned.

“What are you guys doing now?”  Ladybug asked suddenly nervous.

“Meeting at the hotel?” Bee shrugged.

“Meeting at the office in… crap 12 minutes.” Chat groaned.  “I need to go.”

“Homework,” Rena and Carapace said at the same time.

“Okay, are you guys free tonight to talk?” Ladybug asked.

They looked at each other uneasily.  “About what?” Rena asked suspiciously.  

Ladybug grimaced and clasped her hands together, swinging them in front of her a few times.  “I have to go, LB.  Spit it out.” Chat urged her.

“Red Hood found me today.  Me, me.”  They turned suddenly serious, all straightening their stances.  

“How bad is it?” Carapace asked.

“Not bad, I don’t think.  We can discuss it tonight when you have more time.  I don’t think the rest of the family knows, just him. But we have things to discuss.” Ladybug confirmed.

“I need to leave now or I won’t be able to get out tonight.  See you guys at 9.”  Chat called over his shoulder as he vaulted away.

“You heard the cat, we’ll talk at 9.” Carapace declared.  “See you then.”  He and Rena jumped away together.

Bee looked at her and shook her head. “Unbe-fucking-lievable.  Only you.”

Ladybug sighed and gave her a guilty look, “Sorry.”

“Sorry my exquisite ass.  Knowing you this is going to be exactly what we need and it will be over in a few months like some kind of cosmic Lucky Charm and all because you got one of the most eligible bachelors in the world tottering after you like a lovesick puppy.”  Ladybug’s jaw dropped as she watched Bee jump away.

“He is not tottering after me!  But you are right, it is exquisite.”  Ladybug yelled after her.  

Bee turned her head to yell over her shoulder. “Of course I’m right… about both parts. Now go give him a kiss and ask him if he has any hot, rich, kinky friends for me.”

Chapter 9

  Tags:

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[holylulusworld]

Cold as ice

Summary: Sam finally has you in his clutches and won’t let anything or anyone get in between the two of you.

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x Huntress!Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Ofc Jason

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of cheating, violence, blood, implied murder, smut, unprotected sex, possessive Sam, knife play, public sex, I will label this as a dark!fic

Kinktober Special: Knife play

Sequel to: Cold but honest

Kinktober 2020

You will spend the next months with Sam, stay by his side never knowing it was him making Jason leave your life to makes sure he finally gets what he always wanted…you.

“Look at you,” Sam purrs, hands gripping your hips harder. He’s kneeling on the bed, knees digging into the mattress. Your legs thrown over his hips Sam uses your body once again. There is no love or passion in his eyes but hunger which never subsides. “I know you want to cum for me, Y/N.”

Months ago, he ruined your chance with Jason out of selfishness and now you are lost. Sam finally has you in his clutches and won’t let anything or anyone get in between the two of you.

While Dean decided to hunt again he only sticks around occasionally. Your friend enjoys the apple pie life you desperately wanted to live. “Sam, I’m so close.”

Voice hoarse from crying out his name you throw your head back, just letting go all emotions and hope to find love in a cold world filled with death and chaos.

“I know, kitten,” the only comfort Sam offers is the warmth of his body anytime you find the time to take a breath on a hunt. “Let go, Y/N. I want you to scream my name loud enough for the whole motel to hear.”

“I want you to,” you choke out the words, watching Sam grasp for the knife on the bed. “mark me, Sam. Please mark me. Carve your name into my skin.” You crave a connection, want nothing more than to know someone will stick around longer than a few weeks or months.

Sam dips his head, a cold smile on his lips when he stills his hips. He wants you to cum with his knife piercing your skin. Wants to feel you quiver around his cock with your blood running down your chest.

“You’re mine,” the hunter muses. Sam leans over your body, still this coldness in his eyes scaring you to the bone. “No one will ever have you again.”

“I’m yours,” you nod, hiding the heaviness in your heart. “No one else. There is no love outside these walls for me.”

“True,” he grunts, caging you with his arms, the knife still in his hands when he gives you a few hard thrusts to fuel the fire in your belly. “No one can make you feel the things I let you feel.”

“Please…Sam,” you moan when he tilts his hips, a smirk on his lips. “I need you to mark me,” you gasp, watching Sam shift his weight on his left forearm to press the tip of the knife into your chest. He smiles, but as always lately, the cold smile doesn’t reach his hazel eyes.

“Do you want my full name or an ‘S‘?” Sam smirks, sliding the dull side of the knife over one nipple. You cry out, clench hard around his hard length. Moans escape your lips along with pleas to take you harder, to make you his. “I guess this means you want ‘Sam’ on your chest,” you nod eagerly, mouth falling open as Sam presses the tip back into your skin. This time he starts to slide it over your skin, masterly carving a capital ‘S’ into your skin.

Crimson liquid runs down your body and you cry out when Sam removes the knife to lick the blood off your skin. He moans now, cock twitching violently. You’ve got no clue how he does it, but Sam gets even harder as you start to pant heavily. The pain mixed with the feeling of his cock pressed against your g-spot makes the pleasure even more intense.

You want to toss your head back, want to arch your back but Sam tuts you, shaking his head. The tip presses back into your skin and you whimper when he carves the ‘A’ into your chest. Sam hums to himself, an unreadable look in his eyes. “So pretty with my name carved into your skin.”

“Oh-god,” your orgasm so close you can feel your toes start to curl you look up at Sam when he slides the knife one last time over your skin to carve the last line of the ‘M’. “Sam, please fuck me.”

Sam takes his time, slides his tongue over the blade of the knife to lick your blood off the cold steel. Deep down inside you know this is all wrong, but Sam drops the knife to grasps your wrists, pinning your hands above your head the moment he starts to move his hips at a maddening pace.

His eyes glued to the blood running down your chest he grunts, aggressively slamming his hips into yours. There is not a part of your body he didn’t bruise with his hands, hips, or mouth over the last months.

Proudly Sam marks your body, shows anyone you are his toy to play with and anyone getting too close feels his wrath.

“Fucking cum for me,” he purrs, lips crushing against yours. It’s a bruising kiss to muffle your scream but you don’t care. He reaches all the right places and you cum undone, bleeding, sweating, and screaming for Sam.  “Good girl, so good for me.”

You nod eagerly, head lulling back when Sam speeds up once again. He grips your hips, ruts into you hard enough to bruise. Someone on the other side of the room yells at you but Sam decides to ignore the man, simply slamming his fist into the wall when he fills you with hot ropes of cum.

“Fuck, that’s a good pussy. I must admit, it’s the best I ever had,” you know it’s not much, but you give Sam a smile at his words.

Years ago, he would’ve told you that you are beautiful and that he loves to touch you, know you take what you get. Meaningless praises from a cold man…

“Dean, you don’t get it,” Sam watches you snuggle into his pillow. You are wearing one of his favorite plaids and he can’t help himself but tilt his head to get a glimpse of your ass sticking out of the blanket. “She’s mine.”

“Do we own people now, Sammy? I know you are different since you came back, but this goes too far,” Dean worriedly looks at the bandage on your chest. “You carved your name into her flesh for fuck’s sake.”

“And?” Sam gives his brother an amused smirk. “Y/N begged me to do so, Dean. How could I deny my girl the pleasure I can give her?”

“Pleasure? You fucking carved your name into her skin! This is sick!” Dean yells, causing you to flinch in your sleep. “I don’t know you anymore, Sammy.”

“I’m a better hunter, more focused and, I can protect Y/N from anything and,” now Sam’s eyes narrow as he looks at his brother, “anyone…”

“Just don’t hurt her,” sighs leave Dean's lips. He watches you slowly sit up on the bed, eyes immediately searching for his brother. “Y/N, morning.”

“Oh, Dean…hey,” you stammer, covering your chest with the blanket you look at Sam who smiles to himself. “Why are you here?”

“I came around for the hunt. Sam called me last night and I was close by so,” Dean swallows thickly when his eyes land on the blood on your blanket. “Yeah, that’s the reason I came here.”

“That’s good,” Sam steps in front of the bed to hold out his hand. He never helped you before, so you reluctantly take his hand. His cold eyes search your face when you stand in front of him, looking up at your lover. “Sam and I can need help with this hunt.”

“Y/N, take care,” Dean whispers before he looks over your shoulder at his brother. “Sam, he’s not himself right now. I hate to leave you alone with him while he’s like this.”

“Sam would never hurt me,” you touch your chest, slowly running your fingers over the scared skin. “I wanted him to carve his name into my chest. I know you don’t understand me or the reason, but please believe, I’m capable of making a decision.”

“I’m not worried about you making the right decision, sweetheart,” Dean sighs. “I’m rather afraid Sam will make a wrong decision costing you your life.”

“Y/N,” Jason whispers, hand grasping for your arm. “Listen, I need to talk to you in private. Is Sam around?”

“He’s getting us drinks,” you purse your lips. “I don’t have anything to discuss with you. Go back to the girl you chose over me.” Before Jason gets the chance to tell you the reason he broke up with you, Sam storms toward you and your former boyfriend.

“Hands off my girl, asshole. I will not repeat myself,” Sam threatens, hand grazing the outlines of his gun.

“Now you are with that psycho?” Jason spats, shaking his head. “Great, just great.” Your ex-boyfriend storms out of the bar while you turn your attention back toward Sam. Sam takes your hand to lead you into the back of the bar, immediately pressing you against the wall to claim your lips roughly.

“You’re mine,” his hands shove your skirt upward to reveal your sex. “No one touches you…”

Jason paces around the parking lot, hands balled into fists. You don’t see him get a baseball bat out of his car to slam it into the windshield of Sam’s stolen car. He grunts, screaming Sam’s name whilst you cry out the same name.

Sam holds you against the wall in the dingy bar. He’s fucking up into you, not caring anyone who passes by could see you.

“That’s a good girl,” you paw at his shoulders to hold tight onto the tall hunter. “Jason can’t have you back. He’s not going to take you away from me.”

“Never,” purring the word you watch Sam’s face contort in a mixture of pleasure and anger. “Sam, I’m so close.”

“I know you are close,” he smirks now, head dipping to bite your neck. His hips snap upward, hit all the right places whilst you desperately wrap your legs tighter around his waist. “There is not a single time you will not cum for me, Y/N.”

“Please…oh-please Sam,” your nails bite into his flesh, leave crescent bruises on your skin. “I-I’m going to cum,” your head hits the wall behind you, but you don’t care.

“Fucking shit,” Sam spurts hot into you, a self-satisfied grin on his lips. “You’re the best fuck I ever had. There is no way I’ll ever let you go.”

“You see,” Sam smirks, looking down at Jason, “Y/N and I wanted to celebrate a successful vampire hunt and you just came along to disturb my fun,” your former boyfriend believes Sam is crazy when he tells him about vampires and other monsters as you never told him about your job or that you are a hunter.

“I…I just wanted to say ‘hi’ to Y/N. We were friends before we became a thing. It’s not a crime to act like a decent human,” Jason looks at the knife in Sam’s hands, the same knife he used to carve his name into your skin.

“You didn’t want to say ‘hi’,” Sam kicks your boyfriends’ legs, causes him to fall Jason to his knees. Jason hisses, looking up at Sam pleadingly. “I know you wanted my girl back.”

“I swear, I didn’t want to win her over again. How could I with a hunk like you in her life?” Jason is not as dumb as Sam believes. He got that his life is on the line so he tries anything to convince Sam he didn’t come to win you over again. “I only wanted to greet an old friend. I’m sorry if I disturbed your party or something.”

“I know the reason you came to the bar,” Sam sighs deeply, looking down at Jason. “You came to tell Y/N I threatened you to leave her. Did you believe I don’t know you want her back?”

“I swear,” Jason raises his hands, tries to protect his body from the first punch Sam lands. “Please…I’ll never try to talk to her again.”

“I know you won’t…” Sam towers over Jason, his eyes darker now he looks down at your former boyfriend. “I will make sure of it…”

“Sam?” You wonder why Sam presses his body close to yours to spoon you. He never tries to cuddle or make you feel comfortable. Not before or after sex. “Something wrong?”

“I only wanted to check on my girl,” he nuzzles his nose into hair, inhales your scent deeply. His arms sling around your waist, to press you impossibly closer to his chest. “I hope he didn’t change your mind.”

“I’m done with Jason, Sam. He left me for someone else,” you lean into Sam’s embrace, closing your eyes. “I know there is no love on your side, but I feel safe around you. I will never get out of this life so I’ll spend it as long as I can with someone who understands me.”

“Good,” his eyes darken remembering Jason’s pleas before he slit his throat open. “No one will ever part us, kitten. Not Jason, not my resurrected grandfather, not Dean.”

Nodding you slowly drift into a dreamless slumber whilst Sam is wide awake, recalling every moment of Jason’s end. Sam can still feel the warm blood of your ex-boyfriend on his hands and it makes this moment so much better.

Fast asleep you mumble Sam’s name, snuggling into the hunter’s chest when you turn around. His eyes are cold, but his hands press you closer to his body.

The last piece of the former Sam clings to you, needs to keep you in his arms so he’ll do anything to keep you. Even if it means to kill your former boyfriend or keep his brother away from you.

No one will ever get between you and Sam, he’ll make sure of it…

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx

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--------------------------------------

Sam/Jared Forever Tags

@moosekateer13

@thevelvetseries

@rintheemolion

@train-wrecc

[myhockeyworld87]

Indecent Exposure - Sidney Crosby

Word Count: 1,682

Requested: Yes

Warnings: NSFW, Language, Unprotected Sex (Wrap it up kids) Masturbation

Notes: I took the liberty of combining two requests from the prompt list. Hope you guys don’t care. Would love your feedback...haha!

The Pens had a huge victory against the Capitals that night, and since there was a bit of a break everyone decided to go out after the win. You and Sid joined the group, everyone laughing and dancing. You'd even got up and done some karaoke with the girls. You guys were really just having the time of your life.

 It was shortly after midnight, that you glided your hands around Sidney's waist as he was in mid-conversation with Letang and Geno, for once not actually talking about hockey. When he paused you whispered into his ear, "how about we head home for the night?" You let your hands slide down his thighs then back up, hoping to insinuate what you wanted when you finally got there.

 He turned around and gave you a quick peck. "In a little bit babe, ok?" It wasn't the answer you were looking for, but you gave him a quick 'fine' before heading back over with the rest of the girls.

 An hour later, you were still at the bar. Sid was still in deep conversation with the guys, though he did glance over from time to time. You'd make a show every time that he did. Running your fingers up and down the long neck bottle of your hard cider. Exposing a little more cleavage from time to time as you undid a button on the shirt you were wearing. You could tell it was slowly driving him insane, but then it was his choice to stay at the bar.

 He was standing there with the guys just casually leaning against the table. The sight of him almost too much for you. You wanted to be home, naked and in bed with the man right this instant, but instead you tortured by his thick thighs and his juicy ass at the moment. You were left with no recourse but to do the one thing that you knew would drive him over the edge. It was only a minute before he looked your way and you pulled the signature move out. As soon as you did, he was excusing himself from the table and headed your way.

 "Stop biting your lip, you know that drives me crazy." He whispered low in your ear, so the other ladies wouldn't hear.

 "Does it?" You played all innocent when you knew it would get you the one thing that you wanted.

 "Well guys, it's been fun, but I think we're going to head out for the night." He announced to the group at large. You mumbled a goodbye as he dragged you off, the girls all laughing knowingly as you left. As soon as you got to the car, he pressed your body up against it and kissed you hard. His mouth crushing yours and stealing your breath away. It wasn't often that Sid got like this, so needy and demanding, but when he did you knew you were in for it. "Why do you have to tease like that?" He practically growled. His mouth closed back over yours before you could answer.

 His hand skated down to your hips, trapping you against the car as he pressed one of his meaty thighs between your legs. Automatically, you ground down on to him, seeking some sort of friction to ease your aching pussy. He nipped at your neck then, leaving little bite marks as he went. "Is this what you wanted baby girl?"

 A whimper escaped your lips. It was, but it wasn't enough at the same time. You wanted, no needed more. Sid must have sensed your urgency, as he undid the button of your jeans and rolled the zipper down. His hand snuck inside pushing your panties to the side as his calloused finger found your clit. "So, fucking wet. Have you been like this all night?"

 You nodded a yes, unable to speak at the moment, as he tweaked your little nub and pushed his thigh into your cunt at the same time. You were so close, the orgasm just skating to the surface, and then he stopped. Hand still pressing your hip into the car to hold you steady, as he removed his thigh and fingers. "Fuck, Sid." You whined. "Stop teasing me."

 "Oh baby, I haven't begun to tease you. I was just giving you a taste of your own medicine." He pecked your lips, before releasing you to open your car door. "Now you have something to think about on the car ride home."

 You slid into the passenger's seat, then waited for Sid to get in. There were two ways you could handle this, be a good girl, and just wait till you get home, or get yourself off while Sid drove. You chose the latter. As soon as the car started down the street, you reclined the seat back a bit, before slipping your hands inside your still unzipped jeans. Sid was right, you were dripping wet, but that really wasn't much of a surprise, as you'd wanted your boyfriend all night. Your hands were a poor substitute at the moment, but if Sid wanted to be a tease, you were willing to let him know that it went both ways. You let a moan escape your lips as you found your clit.

 He glanced over in your direction then. "Jesus (Y/N), what the fuck?"

 "What's wrong, babe? Don't you like this game anymore?" You answered slipping a finger between your folds and letting out a sigh of pleasure.

 "I'm driving for Christ's sake." An idea hit you then and you reached your other hand over the console, to unbuckle his belt. "Babe, stop that."

 "Both hands on the wheel Sid." You told him as he tried to swipe your hand away. It was a weak protest as you knew he wanted you to feel him. It didn't take much to unzip his pants and find his hard cock in his boxers. You could feel the precum oozing out of the head and you slid it on his member making it a bit easier to pump him in your hand.

 He hissed out his pleasure as your hand glided up and down his shaft. "Fuck baby girl." Your right hand continued to slowly circle your clit, just keeping yourself on the edge of pleasure, though you were ready to abandon that mission and wrap your lips around Sid's cock. Unconsciously, you bit your lip again just thinking about sucking him off. "Jesus, (Y/N), you gotta stop now!" You reached down and cupped his balls instead, then felt the car swerve. The action making you lose your pace. Sid pulled off the road then and put the car in park. "Pants off babe." You willingly obliged, shuffling your jeans and panties off as quickly as possible. Sid threw the seat back all the way before shoving his pants down past his knees. "Get over here." He growled as you crawled over the console to straddle him.

 There was no foreplay, as you'd just spent the last several minutes at that. He simply grabbed your hips and pressed you down onto his cock while thrusting up into you at the same time. It felt like heaven. His hands slid up your sides, and under your shirt, pulling it up over your breasts so he could fondle them. His mouth found your nipple through the lace bra and he gently nibbled on it as you started to ride his dick.

 You were a tangled mess of limbs in the small space, but it didn't matter as Sid was thrusting up inside you. He ripped off your shirt then, tired of fighting the fabric as it kept sliding down. Your bra was next to go as he flung it off and tossed it somewhere in the car. He grabbed your hips and held you down onto him as he used his muscular thighs to press into your core. You screamed out your pleasure, the sound filling the car. Your lips went down and found his and your tongues mimicked the actions of your bodies.

 His hand snaked around somehow between you to find you clit and you realized he must be close. He tweaked and circled the little nub, causing you to moan. Your legs started to tremble as the orgasm built, only this time Sidney didn't let up. His thrusts became erratic, but his fingers continued their assault on your clit, sending you over the edge as the orgasm washed over your body. He followed you almost immediately, as he pumped several times into you before finding his release.

 You slumped on top of him, both of you breathing heavily. It was a few minutes before either of you said anything. "That was…" you started to say.

 "I know." He answered before there was a knock on the window which startled you both.

 "Everyone ok in there?" Fuck who what that? A flashlight shown in and you tried to cover yourself as best as you could; Sid hands pressing you close to his body, as he rolled down the window.

 "Um yeah…officer," Sid answered, both of you blushing furiously.

 "Oh, Sid...I mean…a…Mr. Crosby," the officer stuttered. "Sorry to…a…interrupt."

 "Yeah, a no….it's fine. We were just…." You hid your face in Sid's shoulder. It wasn't like he needed to explain what you were doing. You were naked with Sid's cock still semi-erect inside you. I'm sure the officer knew what you were doing.

 "Um yeah…so I suggest, that maybe you take this somewhere else than the highway."

 "Uh…yes, sir. We were just going to do that." Sid told him.

 "Well, have a good night. Great game by the way." Oh my god, this was so utterly embarrassing but it just got worse when the cop said. "Think I could get your autograph?"

 Sid being Sid, simply said, "Sure." And proceeded to sign a scrap of paper the office had. "There ya go."

 "Thanks again." The officer headed off and the two of you collapsed into a fit of laughter, before heading home for round two.  

[ephemerlskies]

lottery | pjm

⇢ pairing: reader x jimin

⇢ genre: angst, fluff, fluff, flufff, soulmate au, jimin is a dancer, strangers to kinda lovers to friends?? kinda? to ??? 

⇢ word count: 23.4k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, excessive cheesiness and pining, slow burn (prepare yourself now)

⇢ summary: everyone was born with a soulmate and a ring. when your soulmate was alive, the ring would be green. when your soulmate was close to you, your ring would turn white. and when your soulmate was dead, it turned black. yours turned black at the age of 20. your soulmate had died along with your hope. but then, one fateful day, it turned green again. 

a/n: this story went, and i cannot stress this enough, in a compLETELY different direction lmao. i hope you enjoy!!! also it’s partially unedited so forgive any grammatical errors or typos <3

When you were four years old, your mother explained to you that there is a human with a heart and a soul that is tied permanently to yours. That person was your soulmate, and if you’re one of the lucky few that meets them, she said, then you can thank your lucky stars that the universe granted you this gift. Some people spend their entire lives searching, hoping that their soulmate unites with them, while others simply give up or lose faith that they’d ever find their soulmate. And eventually, they settle for someone and love them as much as they can to fill that void. You couldn’t imagine yourself ever becoming the latter of those two kinds of people.

“Mommy, I’m not going to find my soulmate. I think my soulmate will find me! I’m so cute!” You replied ever so hopeful and innocent. Your mother laughed in response to your bold declaration while stroking your hair lightly. Back then, you never hid your excitement for the idea of a soulmate, and your mother told you to hold on tight to your persistence.

“Love finds its way of sneaking into your life unexpectedly. And when it does, it’ll sweep you off your feet just like this!” Her hands pinched the sides of your torso to represent her description of love, and you erupted with a fit of giggles.

When Jimin was seven years old, he asked his father, “Why do you only get one?” The concept that only one person out of the billions of people that walked this earth could be your destined lover didn’t register as probable in his mind. 

“Why would you need more than one?” His father asked in return, to which Jimin huffed. He was young and couldn’t express with the proper words how he had felt. The desire that raged in his heart to plant himself and his love in as many people as he could was something that always plagued him. He carried that burden the moment he fell in love with his first grade crush; Jimin knew from then on that waiting for his soulmate was going to be impossible for him. He would fall in love a thousand times before he’d ever become close to meeting his soulmate.

When you were ten, you told your mother with firm inquisition, “Mommy, I want to find them now! It’s not fair I don’t know who it is. I wanna be in love forever!” Your pout, though cute, was a bit worrisome. She remembered when she was  beginning to grow impatient and frustrated with the idea that out of the billions of people, only one could be your soulmate. She tried to ease your newfound resistance to waiting for your soulmate by saying,

“Baby, what is meant to be will come to you. Your entitlement to love is written in the stars, and so you just have to wait. Promise me you’ll never lose hope?”, you nodded eagerly and held your pinky out with confidence. Your mother curled her pinky around yours. She smiled at the way your eyes pleaded with the universe to send you your soulmate and the way you grinned when offered words of encouragement. 

When Jimin was thirteen, he raced home and said with all the honesty his young heart could convey, “Dad, I fell in love today. I swear I’m going to marry her, I swear it.” His father glanced up from his book to Jimin then looked back down, a small grin surfacing on his face. Though he knew there was no way in the world that could be true, he believed one thing Jimin said. He was in fact in love.

“Be careful with your heart, Jimin. I know you love so hard but don’t forget to protect your heart.” This succinct and thoughtful warning was spoken through experience. He scrunched his nose and trudged off to his room, believing his dad only said that because he didn’t understand. He did, though. Jimin’s father, like Jimin, was in the same position as he was. He loved outrageously and abundantly. It took him many heartbreaks for him to learn to allot his love more carefully. And he wondered how many heartbreaks it would take Jimin. 

When you were seventeen, you gained a comprehensive understanding of the soulmates, and the rings, and the chances of you finding them. They were slim, which was a difficult conclusion to accept, but that didn’t stop your stubborn self from never becoming indifferent towards the idea of finding your soulmate. This unrelenting hope had been instilled into you ever since you were young, thanks to your mother. And every minute of every day, your eyes never failed to check that your ring was green. Each time you peered down, you hoped to see it white someday. But as long as it was green, you promised your mother you’d never lose hope. You did everything in your power to uphold that promise.

When Jimin was nineteen, he experienced the worst heartbreak of his life yet. The words his dad spoke to him years back finally made sense. He still loved, and that love never diminished but it simply was only to be granted to those he knew wouldn’t hurt him. 

Most of your friends and peers were cynical of their soulmate rings, along with most of society. Modern technology and media have desensitized finding your true soulmate with corny dating apps that “help you find the one” and reality television shows that depict the lives of those who have found their soulmates. It was disappointing how commercialized soulmates and soulmate rings had become. The romance that once surrounded the concept of the soulmate rings had been tarnished by the world’s hunger to capitalize of the profits of soulmates and rings. It was common to not believe and a bit expected to lose hope, tragically so.

Your best friend Wheein was one of the few people you trusted in telling your genuine faith of the soulmate ring, and she of course took every opportunity to tease you for it. Though, she always held a tremendous amount of admiration for your ability to maintain optimism. And when she looked into your eyes, she witnessed the same unadulterated longing that your mother had seen for your whole life, and she felt like crying, “You’re crazy but if anyone finds their soulmate it should be you.” She found beauty and purity and everything good that exists in this world, all bundled up in your heart. The way you loved was as infectious and uncontrollable as a wildfire.

At some point, she realized she too constantly checked your ring to make sure it still emanated green.

It was a week after your twentieth birthday. You woke up in the morning with the heaviest pressure residing in your chest. You had no idea what this feeling was or why it was happening, but there was some cloud of uneasiness settling in as the pain grew more and more prominent. It dawned on you a few minutes later, and you felt your heart drop. Your throat began to close as you frantically searched everywhere for your ring. You usually didn’t take it off but you remember removing it when writing thank you letters for everyone who came to your party because the friction of the ring had caused somewhat of a blister along your middle finger.

Your breathing grew short and rapid, and every ounce of you was trying to deny that this pain could only mean one thing.  

“No no no no.” you muttered lowly to yourself, and just as your body was about to become undone with fear, you ran to the dining table to find your ring, “that’s not possible… please. That would never happen.” You didn’t know what denying this would prove, or who you were trying to convince. Maybe yourself, or anyone who has ever belittled you for believing in that ring, or to your mother, or to the promise you made, planted heavily in your heart for all these years. You rushed over to it as your face rose in temperature and your heart accelerated to about 200 beats per minute; it was pounding against your chest so aggressively it felt as if it could have shattered your ribcage.

As you grabbed hold of the ring, there it was. The suffocating, abhorrent color.

Black.

It covered the ring with a piercing and unforgiving hue that drilled right through your heart. You instantly collapsed to the ground. The turbulence of your breath being the only thing making a sound. You brought your knees to your chest and rested your chin atop them. Your eyes filled with tears and the wave of regret swarmed your mind; your eyes squeezed shut forcing the tears to flow even heavier.

Just as the ring was black, your entire world transformed and lost all color. All those years of pining over this stupid ring, all the work and endless nights of staring at that ring telling yourself that one day it would turn white or that it would stay green forever, amounted to the greatest defeat. And your belief in love had been violently dissevered from you.

Your soulmate was gone, forever.

All you could do was sulk in the cruel irony of loving the someone you have never met, never touched, or held or kissed.

Wheein was the one who found you lying in the same spot of the dining floor where you first discovered the ring. She couldn’t express how seeing you so hopeless made her feel. It wasn’t her loss, but her heart broke for you. She walked over to you and offered you a simple, loving embrace. She sat there with you for hours, unsure if she should be the one to speak first. The words didn’t come. All she could do was watch you turn the ring in your fingers over and over again.

You didn’t see it, but she cried the hardest she’d ever cried before, and wished she could take your pain away.

“What do I do now? How do I go on?” you whispered, a thick layer melancholy drowned in your voice. She felt relieved when you spoke then held you tighter.

“I don’t know, but I will love you a thousand times more than anyone ever could. Believe me, okay?” She planted soft kiss on your forehead and pressed your head into the nook of her neck. “This isn’t the end of your story.” You wept into her, and you believed her. You finally looked up at her, doing your best to regain your sensibility, and she noticed the blinding absence of hope; it used to be all she could see when she looked into your eyes. That was by far the most heartbreaking thing she’d ever witnessed. You had lost a piece of yourself that day, she knew that, and every day to come you will carry this in your heart forever.

“I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but love exists in every life in countless ways. You just need to find the strength to begin searching in different places.” Your mom said.

 Two years later

 Life without the green of your ring had grown mundane.

Your existence had become a routine and instead of waiting to meet your soulmate, you were just waiting. Most days everything felt okay, especially when Wheein was around. She was one of the few people that sparked some livelihood into your heart. Despite there being a small part of you that couldn’t accept what happened, you lived your life as if you had.

Still, you kept the ring. That same part of you that couldn’t come to accept that your soulmate had died was the same part that couldn’t let go of the ring. So, you kept it but never wore it around your finger. You were ashamed, for some inexplicable reason, that it was black. Your mom would always remind you that it wasn’t your fault whenever she caught you staring grievously at the ring. You knew there was nothing you could have done to prevent what happened, but somehow you felt this sense of failure.

Eventually, you settled on putting it on a thin, gold chain and wearing it around your neck where you could tuck it into your shirt and keep it hidden from the world. It was a gift from your mother. She gave it to you about a month after it happened, disguising this gesture as a late birthday present. She knew you wouldn’t be able to part from the ring.

Today was one of those days when you couldn’t to rid thoughts of your soulmate. You often found yourself imagining what they smelled like, or if they liked the rain, or what they wore to the beach, or what their eyes looked like when they smiled.  

Your daydreaming, pensive and glum, were interrupted by a ringing. Your eyes found your phone which read, Wheein.

You took a deep breath to compose yourself, “Are you lost already?” You chirped.

“Hey, people change! I’ve gotten, like, somewhat better at navigating.” She laughed, at first not wanting to admit that she was lost, “but on a totally different note, totally hypothetical question, where would you go if you were on 23rd avenue and needed to get to your apartment?” She questioned in sheepish confusion.

“Well, hypothetically, I’d take a right onto Ventura then turn onto 19th avenue and go straight until I got to my apartment.” You tried to hold back a chuckle about to escape from your mouth along with a boastful ‘I told you so’. “My apartment is on the left side of the street, by the way.”

“Yeah, me too, I’d do that too. I knew that, I was just testing you.” She replied, which counted as her special way of saying ‘thank you for helping me because I was in fact lost.’

“Okay, well, could you hurry? I’m starving and that new coffee shop has something like a cinnamon hazelnut latte that I want to try!” Your voice elevated in pitch just thinking about that cupful of sugar and caffeine. You’d like to consider yourself somewhat of a coffee connoisseur, you’d like to, but the reality of your coffee addiction was that you just loved sugary lattes.

Wheein fake gagged in response to hearing the drink you’d described, “___ that sounds so disgusting… You might as well eat spoonfuls of straight sugar.” Every time you expressed your cravings for sweet things, she couldn’t help but wince at the thought of it. You two were mildly opposite of each other which could credit why you never grew bored of one another.

“You say that as if I’ve never done that before.” You said with slight embarrassment, but Wheein laughed loudly upon remembering when you would sneak packets of sugar from diners and eat them in the car or at home. Wheein would quite literally slap the packets of sugar out of your hand while scolding you on how disgusting and unhealthy that was.

“Oh shit, how could I forget?”, she joked, “Also, I’m here. Open up!” You heard her voice outside your apartment and hung up while eagerly prancing to the door. You opened it and greeted her with a hug and she, unsurprisingly, did not reciprocate that hug.

“___, I literally saw you two days ago.” She laughed at how clingy you were, trying to pull away from you.

“Yeah but that was two days ago. Two days!” You rebutted as you stepped back and gestured for her to come in. You closed the door behind her and sat your couch while scrolling through route options to get to the café. “I can drive us, also we’re meeting Jackson there.”

Wheein nodded, “Yeah, cool.” You looked up at her and noticed she was pacing with a face that always indicated that she was contemplating something.

“What’s up?” You inquired with caution. She looked at you with a coy smile resting on her face. She didn’t have to say a word for you to know exactly what she was about to say.

“No…” You interfered before she got the chance to speak, “No, not again!”

“Come on! He’s really really nice and cute and funny! I promise he’s nothing like the last guy I set you up with.” She argued, walking towards you and sitting down next to you. She always had a few tricks up her sleeve when it came to persuade you to do something she wanted you to do. These include, but are not exclusive to, pouty lips, puppy eyes, and non-stop pestering. All of which she used right now. Wheein lifted her hands in front of her chest and interlocked her fingers together in a pleading manner. Your eyes were glued to how cutely her lip was protruded.

“Wheein…” You attempted to be stern with her, though there was no doubt in your mind that you’d give in eventually, “I’m not-“

“Busy?”, she interrupted, “Yeah, I’m aware.” She untangled her hands and flicked your forehead causing you to flinch and chuckle lightly.

“Hey!” You scoffed, unable to defend yourself, “I… I was going to say not interested.” You couldn’t help but laugh at her friendly jab, in admittance that she was right. She only answered with yet another puppy dog-eyed stare to which you groaned loudly. You then bitterly shot her a defeated look that spoke for itself and added yet another triumph to Wheein’s collection.

“Yay!” She clapped her hands excitedly, “Okay his name is Jimin. I’m pretty sure I’ve told you about him! He’s the guy that I met during my first year of college and he fell over in front of the entire class when we were doing introductions. Holy shit, it was hilarious.” Wheein laughed to herself when she recalled this but then shook her head to refocus her train of thought, “Sorry. Anyway, he’s a dancer, one of those fancy contemporary ones that does all the flips and stuff. He’s honestly super cute and if I weren’t the gayest women to walk this earth then I would have hopped on that a long time ago.” You had an outburst of laughter when she said this.

“He’s blonde and kinda short but that’s okay because size doesn’t matter.” You were convinced she switched her brain off when she rambled on like that, yet you found her absurdity hilarious. Your eyes widened as she let that last comment slip from her subconscious.

“You’re so weird.” You scoffed back at her, suppressing your laughter and preventing what could have become a ten-minute speech on why yet another one of her bachelor’s she set you up with was ‘different from the last guy’ and worthy of a chance. She nudged you gently, trying to enliven some excitement from you about this date.

“It’s true, it’s how they use it!” She proceeded causing the both of you to burst in a fit of childlike giggles.

“Okay, jeez, I’m already going on the date! You can stop now.” You wiped your eyes and clutched your stomach as it began to ache from how hard you laughed. It was always like this with Wheein, and you loved her for it even when you didn’t show that, “But, in all fairness, you’re right.”

Wheein nodded proudly and smiled widely before rising to her feet and pulling you up off the couch by your arms. You huffed as she forced you from your comfortable spot and followed her as she walked to the door, “Text Jackson to let him know we’re on our way!” She called back to you as you hummed in response and fulfilled her request.

“He’s gonna throw a little fit that we’re late.” You smiled, staring at your phone.

“Yeah, yeah, he always does.”

A few days later, you stood in front of your mirror and stared at the muted pink colored, semi-casual dress you tried on. The pile of clothes scattered across your bed soon catching your attention, none of which occurred by your own doing, but by the same pest that was forcing you on this date tonight. Wheein walked in rambling on about something you didn’t pay much mind to, “So I couldn’t find your red lipstick but I found this pink one-“ She paused and gasped, eyeing you down in your new attire.

“___, I love it!” She smiled, looking ten times more excited about this night than you did. You smiled nervously turning back to the mirror and inspecting it once more.

“You like it? It’s not too much?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you ran your hands along the side of the dress.

“Too much? Please, never.” She came up behind you, held both your shoulders, and turned you around to face her, “Turn.” Wheein proceeded to apply the dusty rose lipstick, her eyes fixed on perfectly lining your lips. She always liked to visit you and assist you in getting ready for dates, knowing fully that you needed that push of encouragement. These kinds of things were always difficult for you, and she tried her best to distract you from that damn soulmate ring hanging around your neck.

“Why do you say turn when you’re just going to turn me anyway?” Your muffled joke was shushed by the girl who was still meticulously filling in your lips.

“Shh, you’re gonna make me smudge it.” Wheein whined and lifted your chin slightly to get a better angle. To this you simply rolled your eyes to sarcastically jab back, ‘God forbid.’

As she finished with your lipstick you spun back around to examine your makeup and hair one last time. You nodded in satisfaction and stepped away from the mirror, checking the time to assure you weren’t running late.

Twenty minutes until the date. Now that you were finished getting ready, there was nothing left to distract yourself from how anxious and a bit unmotivated you felt. You began to absentmindedly twirl your ring in your hand while your foot tapped rapidly against the floor. Wheein reached out to grab your hand, along with the ring which was enclosed in it.

“You don’t have to take it off, ___.” She consoled, softly running her thumb along the back of your hand. Your eyes landed on hers, then you shook your head discontentedly.

“Wouldn’t…” You paused, fighting your voice from cracking, “That would be weird, though, right?” Your eyes fell back to your ring, which reflected that haunting shade. Despite your nerves still being on edge, Wheein significantly managed to ease your anxiety.

“No, and besides who cares? Its your body, you do or wear what you want.” Wheein was always so headstrong, that characteristic often served as a solace to you. “And, if Jimin does say something then, I’ll kick his ass. I’ve got a baseball bat on hand one hundred percent of the time.” She offered nonchalantly, generating a soft chuckle from you. Upon seeing your smile, she continued, “Hey,” you looked up to her, “What’re you thinking?”

“It’s not that I don’t ever want to find love. I do, It’s just- knowing that I lost them…” You inhaled deeply in attempt to yield your tears, “I know I could never love someone as deeply and truly as I would have loved them. It’s just hard to be excited about these kinds of things, you know?” Wheein pressed her lips together and she stared at you empathetically. She grabbed a tissue and dabbed your eyes gently, trying not to ruin your makeup.

“As much as that is true,” She paused, folding over the tissue and drying your other eye, “that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to find love. And that doesn’t mean the love you will find won’t be just as real.” She tossed the tissue aside and wrapped her arm around you, kindly ushering your head to lay on her shoulder. “You love me and I’m not your soulmate.”

“That’s true.” You sighed, finally tucking the ring into the front of your dress, feeling the coolness of it dangle against your chest. “But you are my soulmate.” You lifted your hand to squeeze her cheeks lovingly. She laughed, only allowing you to do this because she was truly proud of you for going on this date.

“At least I know I will never experience a heartbreak so painful as that ever again.” That comment elicited a few tears to well in Wheein’s eyes.

She sat you up and hugged you tightly, running her hand against your back. In that moment, she wanted to tell you that you were so strong, but she remained silent. She then pulled you up from your seated position. Wheein steadied you by gripping your shoulders, softly.

“Hey! No tears, okay? You’re about to go on a date with a super hot dancer with the legs of a god.” She rocked you back and forth gently to loosen up.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right.” You groaned and smiled trying to release those sad feelings. Your reluctance to tonight was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to what you thought about dating; deep down, you did want to fall in love even if that wasn’t with your soulmate. You couldn’t tell whether you were disappointed or relieved in your ability to consider settling.

“Okay, well it’s almost time to go! Text or call if you need anything. You remember our code word?” Wheein led you to the door before exchanging one last glance. Your code word was the word you texted her that signified you desperately needed an out from the date. Both you and Wheein have used this word various times for you often found yourselves rescuing each other from awkward, uncomfortable, or creepy dates. Your nerves began to ease even more upon remembering you could always count on Wheein.

“I will, and yes: candle.” You affirmed, then stepping out of the threshold of your door. “I’ll probably be back around 10:30ish? I’ll text you when I get there!” You called to her as you began to walk down the hallway. “Oh, and don’t burn my apartment down!”

She laughed and waved as you turned the corner.

You sat in your parked car for a bit. Your hands squeezing the wheel tightly just like the first time you’d ever driven. You focused on steadying your breathing and shut your eyes. “You got this. You can do this.” You chanted quietly to yourself, “It’s just a date.” You opened your eyes and let go of the wheel. Your heart raced, but not enough to be too noticeable. You developed a knack for hiding how nervous you were when you went on dates, not without practice, however.

As you walked into the restaurant, your eyes scanned the area searching for the man named Jimin. You then felt a hand gently place itself on the back of your shoulder to which you turned a little too quickly. Your eyes landed on a man, who was notably attractive, and a bit taken aback.

He was smiling. The creases around his eyes complimented him so well; that alone weakened your legs.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you!” He chuckled, his laugh was childlike and charismatic and light, “Are you ___?” His eyes were puffy in the cutest way and his hair framed him so fittingly he looked like a painting. Your eyes wandered down to notice he was wearing a simple, white button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone, and a pair of black, fitted slacks. This outfit accentuated the curvature his legs, which were admittedly ‘god like’ as Wheein described.

“Yes! You must be Jimin?” You held your hand out and he met yours with his. They were soft and warm which relaxed you for some reason. You glanced down to his fingers noticing he was wearing his soulmate ring that illuminated green. Something you hadn’t seen in a while. At first you felt a bit of sadness settle in, but then that was replaced with a bittersweet content. For some reason, you were happy he was wearing his ring. To you that meant he still believed which was oddly reassuring, but it also reminded you that he wasn’t your soulmate.

“That’s me!” His voice was cheerful and welcoming, you felt jealous at how natural and calm he’d been acting, “I already got us a table, wanna go sit?” His hand gestured towards the table and you nodded, leading the way to the table. He pulled out your chair, revealing his traditional gentlemanly tendencies. You thanked him as he found his seat across from yours.

“This is really fancy! I feel like we should talk about something sophisticated like the economy.” You joked, to which he laughed in response. You’d already started to love his laugh. It reminded you of beautiful music, which encouraged you to do or say things to provoke this laugh.

“Yeah, maybe we should order fancy wine too, except I have no what that would be.” He played along, “Can I have your most pretentiously expensive wine? Preferably something with a gentle, floral aftertaste.” He mocked the way those elitist folks would order their drinks. You, being a previous waitress, had to admit that his impression was accurate. You and he snickered at this, and you mind drifted away from the necklace and every worry you had before this date

“Anyone who swirls wine and sniffs it before drinking it makes me wanna vomit.” You spoke between giggles, “One time when I was working as a waitress, some guy demanded he had a crystal wine glass as if anyone can actually tell the difference.” Jimin laughed again, inspecting the glass that stood in front of his plate. He picked it up and held it in front of you.

“So, in your expertise, what would you say this is?” You then pretended to carefully analyze the contents of the glass, theatrically stroking your chin as if you were in deep thought.

“Well that is definitely…” You paused, “Empty, and what a waste to allow such a beautiful piece of crystal to not be filled with the finest, oldest, snootiest wine.” The two of you continued to laugh and joke until the waiter came to take your order.

You cleared your throat to compose yourself. Jimin covered his mouth attempting to stop laughing as the waiter pretended he didn’t see the way you guys had been joking.

“What can I get for you tonight?”

“You go first.” Jimin said, and you did.

This was easy; he was making this all too easy. You thought to yourself as you watched him slowly expose more and more of his true self. You too were beginning to reveal parts of yourself that weren’t usually shown. You wouldn’t describe yourself as a closed off person, but this was certainly much more open than you were on any other first date.

As the date went on, you found it growing more and more enjoyable than expected. You learned he had danced ever since he learned how to walk. And you told him how you’d spend hours and hours outside staring at the clouds for one art project that ended up not even being graded. You and him spoke about the big important details of your lives like your parents and where you lived and your dream careers, as well as the small things that gave you insight on each other’s personality like your favorite song to listen to when you were sad or if you preferred waffles or pancakes.

It was simple, and normal and sweet. You’d never imagined going on a date with anyone but your soulmate would feel this nice.

“So, what’s your thing?” He questioned in between bites of his food.

“My thing?” You paused in thought for a moment, “I really like drawing, obviously, since I help design art exhibits. But I have to say, I’ve got some dance moves up my sleeves.” You answered playfully, and he laughed. You smiled at his laugh as if you’d heard it a thousand times before and your fondness of it increased every time he did, especially if you were the reason for it.

“Oh, that’s intimidating. Are you trying to show me up, ___?” Jimin joined along with your jest.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” You responded flatly despite the wide grin still plastered across your face.

“Hm, I don’t know, I think I gotta see these dance moves. Dinner and entertainment sounds nice.” He suggested, reaching out to lightly grasp your hand that was resting on the table. You wanted to ignore the fluttering that erupted in your stomach and traveled up to your fingertips and down to your feet, but it was too strong to ignore. Your face grew hot and you could tell your cheeks turned a bit flushed.

Jimin smiled cavalierly upon noticing your reaction to this move.

“Maybe some other time. We can’t let all these people know that we’re secretly children.” You laughed, avoiding eye contact with him. His confidence was magnetizing and intimidating all at once; you couldn’t keep track of how many times your eyes wandered everywhere except for his eyes because of this.

“So, does that mean I’ll be seeing you again?” He construed from your comment to which you responded by snapping your focus to his eyes, finally. You were met with this affectionate glare, unable to prevent a nervous laugh to fall from your lips.

“And so if it was?” You responded and painted the best poker face you could manage, not wanting to give anything way quite yet. Part of you wanted him to confirm his interest in you, after all his ring was green, not black like yours. It was the giant elephant in the room, and you both were well aware you weren’t soulmates. However, neither of you dared to bring that up. You didn’t know how to interpret his soulmate ring, or the fact that he wore it tonight.

Was it just force of habit? Did he wear it in hopes you’d be the one? Is he put off by the fact that it’s still green and not white?

“Well, I’d be relieved to know you feel the same way as I do.” He said a bit hesitantly, “I definitely want to see you again.” Jimin tightened his grip on your hand, arousing even more butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

After dinner, you and Jimin decided that you didn’t want the date to end just yet. So, when Jimin suggested you two take a walk in the park across the street, you happily accepted the offer.

The night was warm, and when you looked up the clarity of the thousands of stars was overwhelming. Your eyes traced the silhouettes of the trees that towered over you and him, your stare fixed on how the stars danced between the spaces of the branches and leaves. The back of your hand would occasionally brush against his throughout your conversation and you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind it at all.

“Favorite movie to watch when it’s rainy?” Jimin asked.

“Princess Bride.” You replied.

“Magic Mike.” He said and you giggled, nudging him lightly with your arm. “I can appreciate attractive men.”

“What’s your pet peeve?” You interjected.

“When people wear flip flops in winter. No one needs to see that.”

“Ah, well then you’d be really annoyed with me.” He looked at you, puzzled and worried. You tried to keep a serious expression but a smile crept on your face. “Kidding.”

He nudged you this time. You didn’t notice that you had migrated closer, or perhaps he to you, and your shoulders bumped gently against each other.

“I hate when people make that gross noise with their mouth when they eat.”  

“Oh, like this?” Jimin leaned his head towards your ear to imitate that sound to which you dodged your head away. He laughed at your disgust. The way you scrunched your face at this sound made him forget about how his shirt itched against his neck, or how he had been a bit drowsy as it grew late into the night, or that he needed to pee, or anything else that would have made him want to go home. You were here, and it gave him every reason to stay.

As the conversation began to die down, he resourcefully brought up a subject that was commonly discussed on dates, “So, has your ring ever turned white?” His question, though heavy, had an innocent intent. Of course, you couldn’t blame him for asking. He had no idea.

“Um…” You cleared your throat for you were significantly caught off guard, “Actually, my ring is black.” Your reply was slow and bore such heartache that subsequently slashed into Jimin’s chest as well. Silence seeped in. You looked away from the sky, dragging your feet gently against the ground. “It happened two years ago.”

“Oh,” Jimin responded. He’d never met anyone personally with a black ring, and a sudden wave of guilt washed over him, “I’m so sorry for your loss, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Jimin. Don’t worry about it.” Your tone revealed to him that it meant more to you than it did to most people, and he felt even guiltier now that this topic was of discussion. He cursed to himself regrettably, realizing how well the date had been going up to this point.

“No, for real. It was kind of a personal question.” He attempted to console you; his eyes never left you. “I guess I never really cared about the ring that much.” To be fair, his was still green so there was nothing much to worry about.

“Yeah, I get that. I’ve been cursed with a hopelessly romantic heart ever since I could remember. I blame it all on my mom. I’m pretty sure it’s hereditary.” You smiled to yourself, reminiscing in the countless times you would tell your mom you swore your ring looked white just to make her happy. You knew it wasn’t white and so did she, but you hoped so hard that sometimes, it did look white. He hummed lightly in response to you. He didn’t want to speak because to him, hearing you talk, even if it was ridden with sadness, was unquestionably the most beautiful thing. More so than heavenly bells or calm tides that washed against the shore.

“I don’t think that’s a curse.” You looked at him when he said this, only to find he’d already been staring at you.

Why did he look at you like that, like he was reading every detail of your soul with such ease? And yet, for some reason, you didn’t mind that maybe you’d become entirely transparent to him. You were okay with being seen by him; and you liked the way he looked at you, warm and gentle and kind and caring.

“I beg to differ.”

“Well, like I said, I don’t think much of these rings.” He glanced down to his own, “I wear it because there’s no harm in it, but I’ve known people who end up miserable because they were never able to find their soulmate.” He looked back to you, noticing how your eyes were glazed with tears. Jimin chuckled softly, to which you, now, instinctively replied with a smile.

Please laugh. Laugh again and again and again for it seems to be the only think that makes the hurt not hurt as much. You spoke this prayer internally.

“You’re describing me to a tee.” You said quietly, feeling a bit ashamed of how many years of pining that amounted to such a heartbreaking end. He nodded with compassion.

“Exactly. I don’t want to invalidate your pain. I can’t say that I know what you’re going through, but I want you to know you have every right to be upset over this. People are so desensitized to these rings, it’s a shame how lowly they are considered nowadays.” It was refreshing to hear such kind words. Every so often, you wished to care as little as everyone else. You could only wish.

“What about you?” You asked tentatively, “I know you say you don’t care much about the ring, but it must mean something to you for you to say that, right?” You tried your best not to sound accusatory but rather curious.

“Yeah. I do and I don’t care. I want you to know that part of me doesn’t care because um, I really like you.” He spoke genuinely and those damn butterflies kept pervading into your stomach, “But I have to admit I do care about it. A part of me thinks it would be nice to find them.” He paused, “I’ve grown to realize, though, that if I spend my entire life only searching for them, then that’s robbing me of so many life experiences. So of course, finding them would be nice, but not necessarily ideal. Soulmate or not, you can love someone. Just because they aren’t necessarily ‘the one’ doesn’t minimize the amount of happiness they bring into your life. Every day I find more and more that love never really runs out. You fall in love with a lot of things. Your best friend, or your dog, or your favorite book, or the way someone’s skin glows so beautifully against the moonlit sky.” He was quite obviously referring to you, and you had caught this. “And no matter how many things get added to that list, love never runs out.”

As he spoke, you pictured Wheein and your mom and the feeling you got when you finished an art piece you’d been working on for hours. There was no denying how incredibly happy that made you. Everything he had said was right.

“Not only that, there are the people who lost their soulmate and still find someone to love. So, if this is all possible, what good would it do to close myself off like that? And you’d never know if your love for your soulmate would actually be better than your love for someone else, right?”

“You’re absolutely right.” You said, and it was all you could say without crying your eyes out. Hearing someone express their ideas of love like that expanded your perception about the soulmate ring. Maybe you had been too quick to ward off any other chance of love that didn’t come from your soulmate. You’ve heard the speech a million times before, but when he said it, it resonated so deeply.

Walking in the park with Jimin that night, you really believed there was a way to love again. You missed that hopeful feeling. “Thank you. I don’t know how you knew, but that was something I needed to hear for a long time.”

Jimin gazed at you; your eyes were soft and sad. He felt this overwhelming impulse to grab your hand and profess that he’d never let anything hurt you like that black ring did. He, too, was a hopeless romantic but he kept that piece of him hidden. You were the one to effortlessly draw that side out form where it was kept safe from the world. He prospected it ironic, almost laughable, that you had no clue.

Be careful with your heart. He’d been repeating this phrase throughout the night but he felt his guard surrendering to you. He didn’t stop it either.

Every bone in his body was urging for him to keep his distance, to not cross the line yet, but his heart craved to kiss you.

You halted when he stepped close to you. You predicted what was about to happen, and the timing of it was exactly perfect, and imperfect; and it felt like it was supposed to happen. So, you let it because you wanted to allow yourself the chance at love again, even if it wasn’t with your soulmate. He leaned in with caution, allowing you to brace yourself as his lips became close to yours. You could feel so much warmth radiating from him. The crickets chirped and the wind stilled.

You closed your eyes as he was about to kiss you until you felt an extremely apparent shock in your chest. It wasn’t painful per say, but livening. You felt as if the part of you that had been dull for two years was suddenly revived. Your mind dared to wonder if what happened meant the impossible. You flinched and jumped back from Jimin, and his face grew worried.

“I’m sorry!” He said immediately, “Did I just read that situation completely wrong?” Jimin’s hand rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“No! No it wasn’t you, I just” You tried to reassemble your thoughts to form a proper sentence but you couldn’t focus on anything other than what that feeling in your chest meant. You knew it was no ordinary sensation. Its feeling held remarkable resemblance of that pain the day your ring turned black, but this time it wasn’t a heartbreak.

It could only be properly described as a surge of rejuvenation that rasped throughout your soul.

“Is there something wrong? Do you need to go to the hospital?” He noticed you were clutching your chest tightly. He stepped towards you in a concerned manner.

“No, I’m okay, I just, I think I have to go.” You half-mindedly glanced at him, and then down to his ring which glowed green. Your longing to see that color shine from your own ring again had never felt stronger than right now. It was alarming how certain you were that something felt different.

He simply nodded, masking his disappointment with his kind smile. “Okay, I, uh, I hope to hear from you soon.” You returned a smile unable to respond to him with words, then walked away to your car. You felt awful for the way you ended things so abruptly with Jimin, but now was not the time to worry over that.

There was only one thing on your mind.

Before driving, you slowly reached to grab the ring and pull it out from beneath your dress. Your hand clamped tightly around it, hesitant to check its color. 

There’s no way.

You waited a few moments, gathering the courage to look and placating your mind which was overflowing with confusion and wonderment. Finally, your eyes slowly trailed down to your hand, you could feel the heat rising throughout your entire body. Your heart raced at a violent speed, just as it did two years ago. Every thought and feeling that ran through your mind and heart was painfully familiar.

Your eyes rested in suspense on your knuckles, turned white from how hard you were holding onto that ring.

You unfolded your hands.

And the ring glowed green.

You were certain you had blacked out on the ride home, being that the next moment you grounded yourself back to reality was when you were gracelessly running up to your apartment. Your hands shook as you fiddled with your key to unlock the door, which became an almost impossible task.

When you finally opened the door, Wheein was waiting restlessly on your couch. She stood up with a bright smile, “How was it?” She then noticed how out of breath you were which was confusing, “Why are you breathing so hard, did you run home or something?”

You walked up to her without saying a word and lifted the necklace. She shot you a look as if you had lost your mind, then looked down at the ring. Her eyes widened and her hand covered her mouth that hung open in awe.

“What. The. Fuck.” She uttered, her hand muffling her voice. You shook your head as you pulled the chain off then placed in her hand. She took it immediately and brought it close to her face. Wheein elongated her blinks to make sure her eyes were not deceiving her.

“Is that even possible?” She asked, her attention glued to the ring.

“I don’t know. At first, I thought maybe it was a glitch? But I felt this weird sensation in my chest. It felt like I was struck by lightening or something.” Your hand returned to where you felt the shock. Your memory of that feeling was strikingly vivid that you swore it’s aftershock still reverberated in your chest.

“___, I don’t think the universe or god, or whatever the fuck that conceived these rings, glitches.” Wheein laughed at your comment, “Thank god for the internet.” She said conclusively, as she motioned you to get your laptop.

You ran to your bedroom then returned with your laptop in hand. You then sat down at the table and Wheein quickly joined you. She placed the ring next to your laptop and leaned against the table with one hand while bending down until your computer screen was in eye-level. Suspense singed the air

Your fingers quickly typed into the search bar, ‘Can black rings turn green again?’

Wheein huffed as you scrolled through the extremely limited results, “It’s so annoying that you type actual questions into google.” You laughed at her impeccable ability to tease you.

“Is that so important right now? Of all times…” You shook your head, finding an article that seemed like a reliable source. “Okay, the Global Institute of Soulring Research says that there are extremely rare instances of blackened rings that returned to green. They’ve only received, uh,” You scrolled down the page, “14 reports of this occurrence?”

“Damn, 14? In the whole world?” Wheein commented with disbelief.

“These rare cases are exclusively due to heart transplants since it has been proven the rings are directly connected to the heart organ. However, there is no explanation as to why only a scarce 14 rings returned to green, while most rings remained black even after a successful heart transplant operation. Researchers theorized multiple explanations of this phenomenon, but none have shown sufficient data to prove why the color changed back. Studies are still being conducted by our laboratories stationed across the world, but scientists are unable to confirm the cause of these rare instances.”

“Holy shit. ___, does this mean that…” She hesitated, “You know.”

“My soulmate’s heart is in another person. That’s pretty much all we can assume at this point.” You said, your voice sounded deflated and unimpressed with the answer the article gave. You stood up and walked to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water.

Wheein took the chair when you left and read another few articles and data sites, most of which had minimal information on this predicament, “All these articles are saying pretty much the same thing.” She sounded just as disappointed as you did.

You returned, taking long sips of your water. “So, basically this means nothing? Just that my soulmate’s heart is in someone who isn’t my soulmate.”

Wheein was surprised at your lack of effort to formulate a theory that proved you had another soulmate, “No, not necessarily. Think about it!” She paused momentarily, and upon observing you weren’t in any mood to entertain her demands she continued, “There’s a reason most rings don’t turn green again! It may not be explained but I think the fact that it’s so rare means that your ring turning green again has some significance, right?” Her words grew desperate. You wanted to give in, but this whole situation didn’t feel real.

“And what if it means nothing?” You snapped, your words were abrasive.

There had been so much pent up anger that you had to lose your soulmate. You, one of the few people who never allowed their faith in the ring falter until your soulmates heart stopped beating, were the one that had to lose them. It was so unfair and you never forgave the world for taking that away from you.

“I’m sorry, it’s just” You felt instant remorse for snapping at Wheein. Your eyes grew wet, but this crying wasn’t sorrowful. It was frustrated and demanded retribution.

“I died that day. I lost something that already meant the world to me.” You took a deep breath attempting to calm yourself, “There’s no certainty that this new person would be anything close to my soulmate. I don’t think wouldn’t be the same even if I miraculously had another soulmate.” You rubbed your eyes to clear away the tears.

“I understand that but, it just doesn’t seem like a coincidence?” Wheein urged, her unwavering tenacity found its use now more than ever, “It’s almost like the universe gave you a second chance. A literal, second chance.” You smiled at her, agreeing whole-heartedly.

There was a long silence. She wasn’t saying anything you didn’t already believe; she was merely reminding that you could never stop chasing your soulmate. It wasn’t in your nature to give up like that.

“Maybe, I’m scared. But I know you’re right.” You sighed at your aggravating grit, “I could never be fully content knowing I didn’t try.” This brought a smile to Wheein’s face. “I made a promise to my mom years ago, I want to stay true to that.”

“That’s my girl!” She grabbed your ring and placed it back around your neck. You lowered your head to assist her and lifted it back up. It felt so light and warm, you’d almost forgotten that it wasn’t always cold and dark. Wheein picked up your phone and you rolled your eyes.

“What are you planning now, you evil mastermind.” You tried to see what she was doing but she quickly evaded this and shifted the phone away from your line of vision. You laughed lightly, “For real what are you doing?”

“Sh, I’m calling in sick to work for you.” She responded. You immediately reached out and snatched the phone from her hand before she could do anything of the sort.

“Um, absolutely not!” You held the phone behind your back and out of her reach. She instinctively pouted out her lip. “No! Don’t you use those puppy eyes at me!”

“But, this is a miracle! And that’s not even an exaggeration, this is a literal miracle! Mission: find ___’s soulmate is a-go!” You laughed loudly at this assertion, knowing it well-intentioned and wildly unrealistic.

“Now hold on, as tempting as that sounds, I can’t go rearranging my entire life for this soulmate. How about we save that for the weekends, deal?” Your eyebrows were raised hoping she would yield to your request.

“___, it’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore!” She claimed in a joking, dramatic way. “Certainly, you’re not the same girl who stood up on the cafeteria table and screaming ‘if anyone here is my soulmate you better show yourself right now!’” Her voice raised in pitch as she mimicked your younger self and her restlessness to find her soulmate. Your hand rubbed the inner corners of your eyes upon recalling that day in second grade, along with the years of teasing from almost everyone in your class. Wheein walked over to your kitchen and you figured it was impossible protest that what she said was wrong.

You did change. You had to.

“Well, I’m 20 now and have responsibilities like paying rent, utilities, and buying food because someone always eats me out of house and home! Look at you, you’ve already found your way to my pantry.” You laughed, this had become a sort of ritual when Wheein would come over. She just waved you off, proceeding to look through your stash of snacks.

You didn’t want to get into the real reason you had changed. At some point during the long period of grieving after your ring turned black, you lost that hope. You lost every sliver of hope because it was unreasonable. You missed it dearly, like an old friend.

It felt like that old friend suddenly walked back into your life with no warning. It never asked for your permission or waited for you prepare. It barged in without knocking and claimed its rightful place.

But you wondered if it was the ring that reunited you with this feeling. If not the green ring than what? Or more fitting to ask, Who?

Wheein was about to pass out on the couch before asking, “Oh, how did the date go by the way?”

That question twisted your insides. Your every thought prior to this halted. Your time with Jimin nearly slipped your mind but his laugh rang in your head.

You wished you could hear it again.

“It was good. Really good.” You smiled softly to yourself, knowing damn well what an understatement that was. Wheein was going to interrogate you about this tomorrow for sure but she was already half asleep.

As you were trying to fall asleep, two things seemed to be at war over which would take precedence in your mind.

One was who your soulmate is, and how you knew there was nothing in this world that could deter you from finding them.

Two was the fact that Jimin had single-handedly made you question everything you once believed about soulmates and love.

The next day you woke up to Wheein making some sort of racket in your kitchen. Before you were able to fully awaken, you began to wonder how big of a mess you’d have to clean up after Wheein was finished. This was followed by an incessant need to call Jimin and apologize profusely for abandoning him in the midst of your date. The only thing you could credit yourself with was handling things very, very wrong.

You stood up and sluggishly waddled to your bathroom. When you met with the mirror, you immediately noticed the green ring hanging from your neck reflecting to you. You’d almost forgotten. Your hand raised to touch it and make sure it wasn’t your imagination. This had been too surreal.

Next thing you knew, Wheein barged into your room, “Wakey Wak- wait where are you?” She searched your bed only to find you weren’t even in your room. Wheein turned around to discover you already out from the bathroom and sitting at the kitchen table.

“Oh! I made you breakfast! Even though you ruined the surprise and woke up before I could come get you.” Her passive-aggression made you smile. She joined you at the table where a plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and two baked potatoes with cheese were laid out neatly.

“I give your presentation an A, but the real test is how it tastes.” You said, then scooping a bite of the eggs into your mouth, “Mmm, B-, they’re runny.” You said jokingly. Wheein crumpled up her napkin and aimed it right at your forehead. “Hey!”

“I’ll take that as a thank you!” She laughed and began to eat the breakfast.

“So um…” You swallowed your food and took a long sip of your orange juice, trying to stall what you were about to say, “Can I have, uh, can you give me Jimin’s number?”

Wheein nearly spit out the giant bite of pancakes she just stuffed in her mouth, “Really?” She spoke with her mouth still full of food.

“I just want to apologize about last night!”

Last night.

“Oh my god, wait I didn’t even ask you what happened! Tell me every detail!” She demanded, still paying no mind to her mouth overflowing with pancake. You laughed and cleared your throat.

Those butterflies came again just thinking about the date. You wondered if that feeling was going to become habitual every time you thought of him.

“I will later, can I just have his number so I can explain to him I’m not a total bitch?” You held your phone waiting for her to read you the numbers.

After she gave you the number while whining that she didn’t like to be kept waiting, you shushed her as you dialed.

The phone rang about four times before he picked up, “Hello?”

“Hi!” Your voice came out louder than anticipated which startled Jimin into fully waking up, “Sorry! Were you still sleeping?” You lowered your voice to an appropriate level.

“Yeah I was, uh, who is this?” Jimin replied, his voice was low and raspy in the mornings. That trait was alluring to you, so much that your attention lingered on the sound of his voice. You then quickly snapped back to reality.

“It’s ___! Sorry to wake you but I just wanted to call and tell you how sorry I am for dipping last night. I swear it wasn’t anything you did. I had a great time.” Your hand nervously tapped against the side of your leg.

On the other side of the phone, you heard his laugh. You were lucky he was one to laugh a lot.

“Hey! Good morning, ___. Don’t worry about it. I’m not as fragile as I look!” He laughed again before continuing, “Are you all good? You had me kinda worried.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. It was probably just a panic attack or something.” You lied through your teeth. Your palm met your forehead in ridicule of that but you hoped it was believable enough to explain your actions.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you’re doing better today.” His concerned response was comforting. Jimin sat up on his bed now fully invested in this conversation.

“I’m definitely better, thank you. I feel so bad though.”

“If you really feel bad then I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me.” He said with a slight upturn in his voice.

He was flirting. You had no success with resistance. Jimin’s charm was enigmatic and had you not only reciprocating his energy, but willingly flirting back.

“Well, I usually charge big bucks for this, but yes, I’ll give you free dance lessons.” You playfully responded, feeling proud when he chuckled gingerly at your offer.

“You read my mind.” He paused. A momentary lapse of conversation occurred causing Jimin to frantically search for any lame, surface level question to ask you so you wouldn’t end the call.

“So, what are you up to today?”

“Well, I just woke up and I’m eating breakfast with Wheein. I think we’re planning on going to the mall later today. What about you?” Your fingers naturally started to twirl your hair. You felt like a giddy middle schooler when they would share a meaningless glance with their crush.

“I’ll probably go to the dance studio if it doesn’t rain today.”

“You should join us.” That response came a little too quickly and you swore you had no idea where or why you invited him.

All you were sure of was that you really wanted him to say yes.

“Are you sure? Last time I went shopping with Wheein she forced me to stop at the pet adoption and we stood there for an hour and a half while she swore to this one puppy she would come back and adopt it.” He recounted but was unable to explicitly say no to your offer.

“It’ll be fun!” You coerced, “Plus, we can eat delicious mall food.” You added with a sarcastic inflection.

“Alright, you convinced me. I’ll be there.” He never planned on saying no in the first place but utilized all the tricks in his book to prolong this conversation. “Only because that mall food sounds too good to pass up.”

You shook your fist excitedly in celebration and laughed at his repartee, “Okay, cool! Let’s meet up around two-ish, sound good?”

“Sounds great.” He said shortly prior to you ending the call.

Jimin held his phone against his chest and threw his head back onto his pillow. He chest heaved up and released a long sigh. Two o’clock couldn’t come sooner.

A month passed since your ring was green again. You continued to hang out with Jimin, however the romantic essence when you were together remained stagnant. He didn’t know what kept you at bay from ever moving things forward between you two, but he didn’t feel the need to ask. He always knew how to act around you even when there was something left unsaid. Your friendship did grow strong and quickly. Jimin felt like he knew you so well already, but yearned to learn more and more about you as the days came.

“Jimin, what’s that one piano guy that made the music for Swan Lake?” Wheein asked as she was scribbling some notes on her assignment.

“Piano guy? You mean Tchaikovsky?” He corrected.

“Oh yeah, great. Thanks!” She replied then mouthing the name Jimin had said while writing it down on the paper.

You returned from the kitchen with three sandwiches, “Here everyone! Gourmet pb and j’s made by yours truly.” You set them down one by one on the table where Jimin and Wheein were sitting.

The three of you had become somewhat of a team. Ever since the day at the mall, you guys made a habit of inviting Jimin along until it was a given that he would hang out with you. Wheein was already nicely acquainted with him and, now that his presence grew abundant in her life, she liked having him around. Not to mention that every time the three of you hung out it resulted in some of the fondest memories. Even though Wheein was just as close to Jimin as you were friendship wise, she was still a bit of a third wheel. She noticed how you two would exchange one too many glances and she’d constantly catch Jimin ogling at you while you were drawing or talking or doing pretty much anything.

Whenever you’d leave the room after a clear display of seemingly harmless flirting, Wheein would wiggle her eyebrows at Jimin and say, “You’ve got it bad.”

He wouldn’t say anything because there was no denying it was true.

“Do you have a band-aid I could use, Jimin? I accidentally cut myself with a knife.” You were looking down at your finger where a small cut resided. Wheein was confused but also quite amused with how that was even possible.

“___, you made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. How the hell did you cut yourself?” She asked with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, I wanted to cut off the crusts and cut them into little triangles! It’s cuter that way.” You gestured to the sandwiches which were in fact crustless and cut into triangles.

Jimin thought it was cute how proud you were of your PB and J presentation. Before you noticed how his eyes fondly laid on you, he nodded and said, “Yeah there should be some in my room, lemme show you where they are.”

“Thank you!” You followed him to his bedroom. As soon as you entered, you noticed it smelled exactly like him. This prompting you to inhale on instinct; it resembled what home would smell like if it had a scent. You then walked up behind him and waited for the band aid. Though you’d been in his room plenty of times before, you never stopped admiring how nice it looked. Most men have bland walls and bedsheets and desks but not Jimin.

Posters of his favorite bands, paintings, music scores, and pictures were hung along each wall. Your favorite being the photo of the dance team he’d coached for a junior league dance competition. Even though it was completely cliché, thinking about him interacting with children made you swoon. Something about his gentle positivity gave you an inkling that he was great with kids.

A variety of trinkets were placed neatly on his desk and bedside table. When you first asked them what they were, he excitedly explained the origin story of each and every one. Not once did you grow bored of him, though Wheein’s attention was entrapped in her phone not long after he began talking. If you were listening, he didn’t mind.

Jimin turned around and held up a small band aid, “Ah ha! I knew it was in here.” You peaked over his shoulder to discover his drawer was filled with various random, unorganized household items. You laughed at this, sometimes forgetting he was still a man after all.

“Jimin, how do you find anything ever?” You teased. He ignored your carp and replaced the tissue paper you held against your finger with the band aid.

“You’re very welcome.” It impressed you how he’d always know how to dismiss you when you would playfully criticize him. His hands were soft, and it became incredibly apparent that he was touching you. He finished positioning the band aid and seemed to realize your hands were touching too; his heart jumped and before anything got too tense, he pulled his hand away quickly. You nodded and thanked him. Your focus was pulled away from that moment when you noticed a new thing sitting on his bed side table.

It was a framed picture of what you guessed was a young Jimin and his mother. You walked over to it excitedly, leaning down to get a better look at it. “Oh my god, Jimin, this is adorable! Is that your mom?”

“Yeah,” He was giving you that same fond stare. Jimin came to realize you were the type to notice small things like that and expressed interest. These small gestures could easily be overlooked by anyone else, and usually people don’t care enough to make anything of these little details, but not you. You always noticed. Perhaps he was overthinking this trait of yours, but it made Jimin feel special in your eyes.

“Aw, lil’ baby Jimin! Look at your tiny little arms!” You squealed with eyes squinted from smiling. “What’s this one’s story?”

“My mom gave it to me for my birthday.” To this, you spun around and hit him with your uncut hand on his shoulder, “Ow!”

“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday? What the hell?” Your eyebrows were furrowed, positively astonished he would keep something like that from you.

“What? It’s not that big of a deal!” Jimin reasoned, rubbing the spot on his arm that you punched surprisingly hard.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re one of those ‘I hate my birthday’ people.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. If you had known it was his birthday, you and Wheein would have certainly plotted the best surprise party of Jimin’s life.

“Fine, then I won’t tell you.” He looked away from you coyly, and you laughed. Jimin looked to the ground trying not to get too embarrassed, “It’s true though. I don’t know why but birthdays are so weird and uncomfortable to me.”

“How is getting a bunch of presents, having people tell you how grateful they are to have you in their lives, and getting an entire day dedicated to your existence weird? How could you not like that? I love that!” You shook your head, unable to comprehend how any sane person wouldn’t enjoy a birthday.

“Well, you make a good point but that doesn’t cancel the fact that, one, I hate cake, two, I don’t like people feeling obligated to get me a present, and three, people singing happy birthday to you is so awkward! Like what do you even do, where do you look?” He spoke passionately, making you laugh even harder at how devoted he was to argue this point.

“Okay you’re right. Making eye contact with someone while they serenade happy birthday to you is wildly uncomfortable.” He nodded triumphantly to your response.

“See I-” Jimin was interrupted by Wheein walking into the room and slumping onto Jimin’s bed. You and Jimin turned to her.

“What’s taking you guys so long?” She complained, sinking comfortably into the bed, “Were you guys making out in here or what.” Jimin’s face turned red and you scoffed at her insolence. You knew she was trying to fluster you both in revenge for making her wait.

“Jimin’s just told me his birthday passed, and we missed it and he didn’t tell us on purpose.” You snitched on him to change the subject as quickly as possible. Wheein sat up and widened her eyes in exaggerated shock.

“How could you? I’ve never felt more hurt in my life than right now.” She insisted as you smugly looked to Jimin. He remorsefully bowed his head the same way a child would when he was caught doing something he knew wasn’t supposed to.

“I am at a loss for words. Ladies, my deepest apologies.” Wheein laughed and looked back at you.

“Wheein and I will let it slide this time. We’ll make up for it when you least expect it.” You winked at Wheein then looked at Jimin with a mischievous smile.

“She’s right.” Wheein affirmed.

You loved this. You loved the way you felt around him. You never wanted things to change despite the glaringly obvious mishap of your green ring. You wanted there to be no need to tarnish that. Sadly, you knew that could never be the case.

You and Wheein were impatient, to put it simply. When the two of you wanted to get something done, you both had this now or never mindset. There was nothing wrong with that in theory, however this meant Jimin’s birthday celebration would undergo planning as soon as possible. You suggested the idea of a fun trip to the beach late at night when the crowds had cleared. Wheein loved this idea and expounded upon that by requesting there would be food, but not cake, candles, balloons, confetti, and a decorative set up for the three of you to enjoy.

It was around 10:00 pm by the time you were finished laying out a large beach blanket and a basket of food, along with the balloons that were held down by rocks you had found along the shore, candles placed on tiny dishes so it wouldn’t cause a fire hazard, and a mini speaker to play music.

“I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees this.” You took a few paces back to admire the finished product. Everything was decorated with extra detail being that you were an artist who preferred things to look aesthetically pleasing.

“We really knocked it out of the part with this one. We gotta take pictures when he gets here to remember all our hard work.” She stood beside you and joined in your reverence of Jimin’s surprise birthday picnic.

You received a text from the group chat that Wheein had made of the three of you.

“Oh, shit he’s almost here! Let’s get in position.” You bounced over to the front of the blanket, as well as Wheein, to hide the surprise from Jimin and picked up handfuls of confetti to toss when he arrived.

You could see his figure in the distance, now growing clearer as he approached the area you had set up. He tried to peak behind you both, curious of what you were standing in front. Before he could figure it out on his own, you and Wheein stepped aside and quickly threw the confetti up in the air. The small pieces of tissue flitted down ornately which tied the presentation together nicely.

“Surprise!” You said in unison with Wheein. Jimin threw his head back giggling and his hands crossed over his heart when he saw what you two had planned.

“You guys! What is this?” He took a few steps forward, bundling the two of you in a hug with each arm.

“It’s just our way of saying happy belated birthday.” Wheein answered, pulling you and him in tighter to the group hug.

Jimin pulled away and inspected the blanket and the items placed neatly over it. His hands cupped both his cheeks and he was so grateful that he’d almost forgotten how much he hated birthdays.

“I absolutely love it. Thank you, guys so so much.”

“Before you start worrying, there is no cake, there will be no singing, and this picnic is kinda our ‘gift’ so technically, no gifts!” You added, walking over to the blanket and seating yourself. You motioned for the other two to join you and they joyfully obliged.

The rest of the night was filled with lots of laughter, long talks, two emptied wine bottles as well as a plate now cleared of all its food, Wheein daring you to run into the water to which you refused adamantly, and exactly one corny speech from Jimin about how much he appreciated you and Wheein.

“A few months ago, I was so stressed and overwhelmed with life. I had this huge fight with my dance teacher and my boss told me she had to cut back my hours because we were overstaffed so I was worried about rent and stuff. If I’m being honest I wasn’t all that great mentally. I don’t know it was rough for a while. Then I met ___, and we all started hanging out and it made me really happy.” He looked down at his wine glass, trying not to get too emotional, “Anyway, I really appreciate you guys for being in my life.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, giving him a partial hug from the side. Wheein pretended to be disgusted with this, but you caught her tearing up while Jimin was talking.

“And we really appreciate you were born and didn’t get scared off by us when we forced you to become our friend.” You said before pulling Wheein into the hug.  

“This is the absolute worst timing but I have to pee…” Wheein huffed as she stood up contemplating what to do.

“The ocean’s right there.” Jimin said, holding his hand out to point to the shore.

“Absolutely not! Not in front of you!” She kicked him lightly and he chuckled.

“I’ll turn away!”

“No, I read this story once about how a worm swam up into someone’s – thing – when they peed in the ocean. I’m not about to have a parasite living with me, I’ve already got you two!” You nodded as this claim was irrefutable. Jimin laughed, never getting tired of Wheein’s hilarious quips.

“We can go back to my place?” You suggested.

“No no no, I haven’t even gotten to force you two to get into the water yet. And its only,” She paused to check her phone, “Twelve. Also, I thought we were gonna stay and watch the sunset!” She tapped her foot against the sand. “Okay, ___, give me your keys. I’m going to quickly drive to the gas station I saw a few blocks down and pee there. I promise I won’t abandon you guys here.” Wheein held out her hand to you, waiting for you to give her the keys. You fumbled in your purse and pulled them out.

As she ran to your car, Jimin shook his head still humored at what Wheein said, “She’s something else.”

“Definitely one of a kind.” You concurred. “On another note, I’m glad you enjoyed this. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t worry you would feel uncomfortable.”

“No, ___, this was perfect.” He said reassuringly. Jimin gazed at you every chance he got. You were looking at the sky and admiring the way the stars shined so brightly. To you, they always seemed to glow significantly more when it was you and Jimin underneath them. He revered the way you looked so in love with the stars, or how you looked so in love with life in general even after what you had been through, and felt his heart race at the sight of your hair flowing gently in the breeze. “You nailed this one, ___.”

“Yeah, I know.” You said confidently as you brushed your shoulders to display your pride. Jimin chuckled at your action.

His laugh. His damn laugh. You thought to yourself and if you could, if you had any ounce of courage, you’d ask him to never stop laughing.

The song “Moon River” began to play on the speaker; Audrey Hepburn’s exquisite voice filled the air. Jimin was aware about how fitting this song with to the ambiance of the night that now only belonged to the two of you. When Wheein left to go to the restroom, the platonic atmosphere followed.

“I actually do want a birthday present.” He spoke quietly. “Dance with me?” Jimin’s nervous laughter trailed his question.

You looked at him unsure of how to interpret this painstakingly romantic request. But, how could you say no when he smiled like that? You nodded without saying a word.

He stood up eagerly and lowered his hand to you. Your hand held his as he pulled you up and stepped close to you. Jimin’s free hand traveled to the small of your back, sparking light tingles that cascaded down your spine. Your free hand met his shoulder; originally your muscles were stiff but the way he swayed you had naturally relaxed you. Eventually your head rested on his opposite shoulder and you felt his head rest gently on yours. As the music played, you felt as if not just this moment, but the whole world belonged only to you and Jimin.

He could have confessed his love for you, but instead he said, “You look beautiful tonight.”

Your heart raced.

“Thank you.” You said quietly after a short while. “You look beautiful too.”

“Thank you.” He whispered. You two swayed along for another three songs in silence, and you and jimin would have danced forever if that were an option.

“At this point, you should just quit dancing because I’m clearing running circles around you, Jimin.” You pulled your head back to look at him, and you noticed it looked as if he’d been crying. However, you didn’t say anything about it because you knew why. You were terrifyingly aware and at the same time in denial about how surely you knew why.

“Yeah, you still never gave me those free dance lessons. I’m not letting that go.” He smiled brightly causing his eyes to squint. You scrunched your nose at him and looked down.

“That’s right. Maybe I should show you some moves right now?” You offered.

Jimin raised his eyebrows then swiftly spun you around and wrapped his arm around your lower back to dip you. You gasped and laughed in shock, your head falling back slightly as he held you in this position. When he pulled you up, you were both unable to let the smiles you had subside. He reached his hand to gently remove a strand of hair from your face, curling it delicately behind your ear.

He was seven years old again. His love raged again. This time it was you who planted themselves in his life and he wanted to give you all the water and nutrients and sunlight to grow in his heart forever.

The boy stepped away slowly and gestured for you to, as he put it, show him your moves.

“Okay hold on.” You retrieved your phone and scrolled through your music playlist to find a song that best suited what you were about to do, “Perfect!” An upbeat 80s disco song began to play.

You then contorted your body in a way to resemble a robot, “Check this out.” You lifted your arm and swung it to imitate a machine-like movement. Jimin found this too good to let it go to waste and secretly filmed on his phone what you were doing.

“I can see you’re taking a video and I’m only letting you do that because it’s your birthday.” You then proceeded the switch to a different dance move, “I like to call this the wave. I’m sure a rookie like you hasn’t heard of it.” You raised both of your arms to shoulder level and rolled them back and forth.

“Wow, your technique is absolutely immaculate!” He commended while laughing so hard he gripped his stomach and bent over. He soon joined you in dancing around in the sand.

“What are you two weirdos doing?!” You both turned around to find Wheein running over from the car with her hands cupped around her mouth as she called out.

“Dance party!” You yelled which was overlapped by Jimin’s voice.

“We’re dancing!”

Wheein laughed as she neared the two of you. “Last one in the water has to clean up our stuff!” She said while passing you and Jimin and heading straight for the water.

Jimin was quicker to react and chased after Wheein, pushing her lightly to throw her off track, soon followed by you racing to catch up. Though you swore you wouldn’t go into the water, you ran towards it with no hesitance. You’d follow them anywhere.

“No fair, you got a head start!” Soon all three of you crashed into the water. The waves were tame, but they still had a slight force that pushed the water as high as your waist.

Wheein pulled you in deeper and Jimin splashed the water at you two. You both screamed and laughed and played like children.

You wished that night would never end.

The minute you decided to tell him your ring was green again; you knew things would have to change and you dreaded it. It grew increasingly difficult to keep that from him and a part of you felt like you were misleading him by not telling him the truth.

“I owe it to him. I don’t know exactly what’s going on between the two of us. I clearly think of him as more of than friend. I’m not denying that, but you know I can’t do anything about that, not with this.” You’d say as you held up your ring for reference.

“You don’t have you. You could just let things play out and hope for the best?” Wheein suggested knowing this wouldn’t suffice.

“I can tell he likes me more than a friend. I can see it every time he looks at me with those puppy eyes.” You gave her a disapproving look and she nodded.

“I know you’re right. I just don’t want Jimin to be too hurt, you know? The guy is a softie at heart.”

She was right. Jimin would act like nothing ever affected him, but out of the three of you, he was the most sensitive and experienced his feelings the most intensely. Just the idea of what his face would look like or how his smile would dwindle when you told him about your ring made your heart drop to your stomach. There was no way to avoid this, because like you said, you owe Jimin complete honesty and you refused to abstain anything less than what was best for him.

“I know, and I don’t know if I could ever forgive myself for doing this.”

“You didn’t let me finish. He’s a softie, but so are you. ___, I’m worried about you too. Are you sure letting this go is the right decision? I can tell you’re already starting to miss him and you haven’t even let him go yet.” She placed her hand on your back to comfort you. Wheein knew you well enough that she didn’t have to ask how you were feeling.

“I appreciate your concern, but I have to do this.” Anticipation began to seep through your veins. “Right? I mean my whole life I’ve been dedicated to ending up with my soulmate. I’ve ended things with so many guys before things got too serious. And I had no problem doing it then, but this time.” You began to tear up picturing Jimin, “It’s so much harder.”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do. That’s up for you to decide but I hope you know I will support your decision. Whichever it is.” Wheein pulled you into a hug, soft and reassuring. You propped your chin on her shoulder and ran your hands along her upper back.

“Thank you.” You said quietly.

As you pulled away, you looked down at your ring and for once, you didn’t feel that excitement upon seeing it green. Instead, it became burdensome that you felt this obligation to honor it. You were beginning to feel trapped. As if this decision wasn’t up to you anymore, but to this ring.

A few days later, you and Jimin were sitting out in the same park that you walked along on your first date together. The grass danced with the wind and the tree that loomed above the two of you provided the perfect amount of shade from the sun. Gentle rays of sunlight permeated among the leaves and their shadows danced along yours and Jimin’s bodies. The air felt clean and cool, giving perfect ambiance to spark inspiration for your artwork.

Jimin was laying down beside you, staring up at the sky while you two chatted nonsensically for hours.

“I’ll give you five bucks if you can guess what kind of bird just chirped.” He spoke lazily while his eyes trailed their way to you.

“Ostrich.” Your replied with a candid tone and your eyes transfixed on the page in front of you. Jimin chuckled lightly which diverted your attention to him as it always did.

“Just for that I’m eating the rest of your blueberries.” He shoved all of them in his mouth causing his cheeks to puff out. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find that adorable, and yet you played it off with a unimpressed glare.

“I was gonna eat those, butthead.”

These small exchanges would fill the silence every so often. But even when neither of you spoke, you felt no desire to say anything. Just sitting with him in that park was enough to delight you.

You stared at Jimin as his eyes traced the puffy clouds above. With your pencil in hand, inspiration struck. This scenery was so picturesque, it would be a crime to not capture every bit of joy it exuded.

You turned to a blank page in your sketchbook and started to outline the shape of Jimin’s face and body. Your pencil glided against the paper gently, that sound of charcoal running along the pages of your sketchbook grew fond to Jimin’s ears. He rarely looked at what you would draw because he knew your sketchbook functioned as your version of a diary; he simply loved that sound because it meant you were beside him.

You quickly sketched each curve of his body along with the bed of grass on which he lied and the tall tree behind him with as much precision as you could before he shifted positions. Then you began to add shading and small details that livened the drawing a bit more. Once you were finished, you held your finished work out to examine whether you were satisfied with it. You nodded to yourself then nudged Jimin.

He turned his head towards you and raised his eyebrows in substitution of a vocal acknowledgment.

“Look.” You gently tossed your book onto the grass near his head.

He quickly sat up and lifted the book with both hands. He rested it on his lap and gazed at it for quite a while. A smile slowly appeared on Jimin’s face and he thought to himself how beautifully accurate you were at being able to capture these moments in life. This moment was precious to him, along with every other moment he spent with you doing nothing.

And those nothing moments were everything to him. They were everything to you too.

“___, you never cease to blow me away.” Jimin spoke in a whisper because he only wanted you to hear. He wanted so desperately to kiss you.

Oh god, your conscious couldn’t handle keeping it in anymore. You had to tell him.

“So um, Jimin. I don’t know how to say this…” You laughed nervously due to how uncomfortable you were with this even before the conversation started.

Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed, and before he could realize what was about to be said was going to be serious, he said, “I know what you’re going to say. You lied and totally didn’t watch the movie I recommended to you!”, earning a soft chuckle from you. It substantially lighted the mood. He tied with Wheein for always knowing how to ease your nerves without even trying.

But your face returned blank when you finally gathered the courage to blurt it out, “My ring turned green again.”

His smile vanished and it was an absolute tragedy you were the reason for that.

“I’m so sorry, Jimin.” He knew what this meant. He knew what you were going to say before you even said it. He stood up and paced around the area, prompting you to get up and trail behind him. He had a habit of lacking the ability to sit still when he was facing something that troubled him.

He struggled to figure out what he felt about this. Every emotion blurred and converged into one unsettling mess.

“I’m not going to pretend like this is easy for me because its not. I like you and spending time with you has made me so so happy, please believe me when I say that.” Your voice began to shake. Jimin hated when your voice sounded anything but cheerful.

“I know it sounds like bullshit, but I’m being honest, god, I can’t convey how much you mean to me. I know we only met months ago but I feel like what we have isn’t some fling. Like, you’re already one of my best friends.” Those words, though consoling in theory, pained Jimin so deeply. He wanted to be more than that.

“I don’t think of you as some back up to keep me from being lonely if that’s what you’re thinking. I’d be damned before I let you believe that, but I can’t just ignore-” The hundreds of things you were practicing in your head had spilled out of your mouth in a jumbled mess. It was much more difficult to say these things to Jimin than your bathroom mirror or Wheein.

“Stop,” He spoke with such poise that you did nothing more but obey. His footsteps halted and You pressed your lips together in fear of what was about to be said. He was staring at the grass, the green color mocked him. Jimin hated green right now.

It pained you to see he couldn’t even bring himself to look at you.

He’s going to hate you forever. You thought to yourself and you tried to brace your heart for losing him forever. All because you lacked the backbone to be honest with him from the beginning.

He didn’t speak for a while, for what felt like an eternity. The wind that whipped against the leaves of the trees and blades of grass filling the silence you were once comfortable in.

Jimin suddenly turned around and wrapped his arms around you; your head was pressed tightly against his chest and his chin rested gently atop your head so perfectly. You could feel how hard his heart was beating, each tap synchronized with your heart.

“You idiot, why are you apologizing?” Your eyes closed to obstruct any tears that were about to form.

“You know why.” Your words were muffled, which Jimin found tortuously adorable. “You can hate me if you want.”

He laughed softly, that alone expressed more to you than any number of things he could say.

The sound of his laugh that you’d grown to miss on the days you hadn’t seen him never sounded so beautiful. When he laughed, he painted himself on a canvas for you to admire and with each stroke he added, you were able to learn every intricate detail of him.

Jimin’s laughter spoke to you, you swore it. You clearly heard it tell you that he could never and would never hate you. Comfort and ease. You never felt anything less than comfort and ease in his arms.

“___, I know how much this means to you.” He planted a soft kiss against your head which felt like a goodbye. Not to you, but to the hope that he could ever take the place of your soulmate. The smell of your hair exuding off so gently, and he thought you smelled like vanilla and stardust. Jimin did everything he could to sound strong. He wanted nothing but to be happy for you, and if this meant he had to let you chase after your soulmate there was no way in the world he’d let his feelings stop you from doing that. “I’m already planning a want ad that will be posted on every building within a hundred-mile radius!” His voice rose in enthusiasm. You could tell it was all a façade.

“You don’t have to act like you’re okay.” Your head nestled against his chest.

“I am.” He quickly replied then repeated, “I am.”

If only he could have made this easier on you. If he would have gotten mad or yelled at you or said he would never forgive you then doing this wouldn’t hurt as much as it did. But he did none of that. He was ever so kind and understanding and selfless.

You nuzzled your face deeper into his chest as a cross between a sigh and a laugh released from you. He acted like he didn’t care that you had just “broken up” with him. Jimin was nothing if not selfless.

Your ring was green. You had another chance to find your soulmate; it was everything you’d ever hoped for your whole life. So, why did you feel like you’d just made a mistake?

“Jimin, I know I hurt you. I was scared to tell you because I didn’t want to lose you. I just,” You huffed, “I just should have been honest. I’m sincerely sorry. You are the last person I want to hurt.” Jimin looked down at you and you stared up at him. He couldn’t stand when you frowned, which inclined him to use his thumbs to lift the sides of your mouth, so it looked like you were smiling. You laughed at this sweet gesture.

“This soulmate of yours better not be a dancer or we’ll have a problem.” He joked in attempt to evade how true what you said was. You threw your head back laughing again.

All Jimin really cared about was that you were always in his life. And even though it felt like you had ripped every root of yourself out of him, he knew he would keep that spot in his heart empty for you. 

For you, and every nothing moment. Nothing was everything with you,

You were completely drenched in sweat and jolted awake from your sleep. Your first instinct was to call Wheein, but you remembered she had an exam the next day.

You then picked up your phone and scrolled through your contacts until you found the name you were looking for. You pressed the call button with your thumb and brought the phone to your ear.

The phone rang shortly before being picked up, “Hello?”

“Hey, Mom.” You greeted her softly. Her voice was soothing and low.

“What’s wrong, honey?” She asked since it was late in the night and you calling her only meant it was fairly important.

“I just had this really weird dream.” You answered, still perplexed and trying to remember the details of it. You shut your eyes to picture the dream before it faded from your memory, “I was in art class and we were doing this activity where we had to close our eyes and draw something that made us happy. It was something to like exercise our skills of drawing with emotion rather than precision, something like that.” She hummed, listening intently to what you were describing.

“Okay, and so I did it and I wanted to draw what I imagined my soulmate would look like because duh, you know me.” You stood up and paced around your dark room.

“Yes, that sounds about right.” Your mother chuckled softly while she quipped back to you.

“Okay but when I opened my eyes you would not believe who I drew.” You stopped for a second envisioning the face that stared back to you. It made you tense just thinking about it.

“Who?”

“It was Jimin.”

“Jimin? That nice young man you’ve been hanging out with recently. I think you’re absolutely smitten, honey.” Your mom sounded so casual when saying this.

“But…” Your pacing began to speed up, “He’s not my soulmate. I- I don’t know what to think of this. Maybe it’s just my brain? It’s not like you can control what you dream.” You began to ramble in attempts to affirm this didn’t mean anything serious.

“I don’t know, ___. That is an oddly specific dream.” She sounded critical of your aversion to admit this. “Why not give him a chance?” She suggested hesitantly.

“What?” You scoffed in amazement, “I can’t believe you out of all people would say that.” You knew that she knew exactly where your confusion was coming from.

“I know.”

“So why would you say that? I mean, finding my soulmate was something both you and I wanted ever since I could remember?” You grew exhausted from your pacing and sat on the edge of your bed.

“Look. I wanted you to believe in your soulmate. You’re right in that, but it wasn’t just your soulmate I wanted you to believe in. All I wanted, all I’ve ever wanted, was for you to never give up love itself. This world has a way of breaking your heart countless times, and I’ve been around enough to see how empty people’s lives are if they live without love in it. I just wanted to teach you that living a loveless life was meaningless. I refused to allow you to live a meaningless life. I thought that your soulmate ring would act as a reminder that I loved you and I believe you deserved to be loved, but it grew into some dependence on finding your soulmate. ___, when your ring turned black, I realized my mistake. I shouldn’t have glorified the ring as much as I did because ring, or no ring, soulmate, or no soulmate, there is no denying that you have feelings Jimin. I can hear it in your voice every time you talk about him. You’d be insane or oblivious to not pick up on that and I know you’re neither of those things.” Your mother waited for you to respond.

You remained silent and still. Your eyes had spaced out to glare at the corner of your room. Coming from anyone else, you would have disregarded their opinion on what you felt for Jimin; your mom, however, was an entirely different story. Hearing it out loud triggered a domino effect in your mind. You realized that your perception of what your mother had been trying to teach you was warped by your obsession with this ring. That hit you and crumbled you like a bulldozer broke down a brick wall. This left you wondering how you’d reconstruct yourself from this. You’d always thought that you were better than those who don’t care about your ring, but now you worried that your intense dedication to it burdened you for your entire life.

It wasn’t your mother to be blamed. You fed the fire more than anyone else could and you see that now.

“Wow.” You were speechless, “I’m an idiot.” You said as if that were some monumental revelation. “He’s not my soulmate and he still has his soulmate out there too.”

“Yes, but you love him. That trumps all reason and resistance. Love will always trump all of that.” A blunt rebuttal spoken with such softness from your mother. “I think you should talk to Jimin.” Your mother said in that classic mother knows best tone.

“I think I agree.”

You and Wheein sat against the back wall of the small dance practice room. Each wall was covered with large mirrors and you’d grown acquaint to this environment. Jimin had been rehearsing a routine for his next show; it was in two weeks and despite him saying that it was one of his less important performances, you insisted you’d be there in the front row cheering a little too loudly.

Your eyes would waver between your sketch book, then to Jimin, then to your book, and back to him. You did your best to portray his dancing as graceful as it was to see in person, but you found it impossible. There was no way to recreate such beauty; this was the one thing that your art could never quite achieve, for every imitation of his movements were inferior, pathetic almost, to the real thing.

Wheein, on the other hand, was far from invested in Jimin’s practicing which didn’t come to a surprise.

She wasn’t utterly in love with him.

She peeked over to your drawing followed by rolled eyes. She grabbed her phone and texted you with a disapproving expression.

Wheein: so are u going to ask him to marry u now or later?

The text notification caught your attention. You looked at her as if to ask why she would text you when you were sitting right next to her. She only nudged you in response to coax you to look at the text. When you finally read it, you shot her another look, this time it exemplified your annoyance.

She sent another text.

Wheein: ???

You tried your best to make this exchange as inconspicuous as possible. You began typing aggressively to release some frustration.

y/n: u suck :p

Wheein laughed and responded.

Wheein: that doensn’t answer my question ;)

y/n: ya we’re planning on a destination wedding

Wheein: lol have you guys talked one on one since that day??

y/n: no and I’m on edge bc I have no idea what he’s been feeling these past few days

Wheein: damn ___ its been a week and y’all haven’t talked yet

y/n: i know :/

Wheein: well just talk to him tonight before everyone else comes

Wheein and Jackson had planned to have a kickback before the new semester came into session. She convinced you to host it on the condition she would provide the snacks and drinks. Jackson and his girlfriend, Seokjin, Sana, Yeji, all friends of you met in college, Dahyun, the girl Wheein had been dating for a few weeks, and Jimin were all going to your place later that night.

y/n: lol… you think talking about how I’m secretly in love with him right before getting drunk with our friends is a good idea???

Wheein looked up from her phone and responded with an aloof shrug. You let out a suppressed snicker and looked back down at your phone.

y/n: you’re so annoying

Wheein: at least im not a pussy!

You only replied with a middle finger emoji. You and Wheein were so invested in your virtual conversation, neither one of you had realized Jimin had finished practicing. He walked over to the two of you unsuspectingly and sat down on the other side of you. You fumbled to lock your phone before he could see your conversation while simultaneously trying not to seem like you were hiding something from him.

“You did a great job! I can’t wait to see you perform that.” You gave him an encouraging smile, slyly setting your phone on the floor.

“Thanks.” He said while panting lightly, “I kept messing up on a few steps though. I definitely need to polish up on that.” His hand ran through his hair. Your eyes watched this with the same concentration one would watch a football game coming to its last quarter. You couldn’t help how your gaze traveled down to the way his shirt clung against his chest.

Jimin pointed at your water bottle, “Do you mind?” This snapped you out of your trance.

You shook your head and stared at your sketchbook with such intensity, Jimin noticed how odd you were acting.

“What’s up?” His asked this casually but because you were hiding the fact that you were in literally love with him you felt like this was an interrogative question.

“I’m just,” You paused, beginning to touch up the sketches you had made of Jimin while he was dancing, “I’m not satisfied with how this turned out. Also, you danced well. I couldn’t even tell you messed up.” You did your best to sound distant and uncaring.

Jimin hid his smile by taking a sip of your water. “Thank you.”

Meanwhile, Wheein had witnessed all this occur right before her eyes. She was equally disgusted and embarrassed at how horridly tense that conversation had been. In a perfect world, she would have shoved both of your heads together to initiate a forced kiss because she knew damn well neither of you would ever be the first one to make that move, especially after everything that happened. All she could do was stand by and watch in agony.

“Whenever you two are finished, I’d like to shower before everyone comes over.” Wheein added a touch of retort in her words, hoping you would pick up on what she really wanted to say. “Jimin, you definitely need to shower too.”

You and Jimin laughed as you all stood up and began exiting the practice room. He threw his arm around Wheein in retaliation for her jab. “Oh, you don’t like my sweat?”

She cried out a loud ‘ew’ in disgust and forcefully shoved him away. You watched them bicker, and today was the first day since your ring turned green again that you hadn’t thought about your soulmate once.

Jackson and Nayeon arrived early to help set everything up. He also came to give a last-minute warning that he had invited a few of his friends from work over as well.

“I told him he shouldn’t, but when does he ever listen to me?” Nayeon scolded to which Jackson rolled his eyes. You laughed, appreciating her efforts in attempting to get Jackson not to do something he had his sights set on.

“It’s okay. You can just order something really expensive the next time he pays for dinner.” You said while grabbing an extra pack of red solo cups from your cabinet.

“I do that regardless.” She said with a loud laugh. Jackson nodded in admittance and kissed her cheek lovingly.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” You and Nayeon laughed at his sarcastic remark. She joined in helping you set up to compensate for the fact that Jackson didn’t apologize. You weren’t too upset, though; you knew him too well to believe him when he said he was only going to bring Nayeon tonight.

As the night went on and your apartment slowly filled with around thirteen people, some strangers and some friends, you were on the edge of being drunk to being really drunk. Everyone else was either at you level or a bit ahead of you. Wheein had already hopped on your couch to perform a ballad dedicated to how much she loved her friends.

“This one’s for YOU!” Her voiced boomed louder than the speaker and if you weren’t so intoxicated, you’d be worried about the neighbors filing a noise complaint. Wheein pointed at you then began pointing at everyone else in the room watching in amusement, “This ones for ALL of you! Even Jackson’s friends I don’t even know!”

This elicited a laugh from all of Jackson’s coworkers. One called out, “Do you remember my name?”

“Definitely not but I LOVE you!” She laughed turning red in the face then continuing with her heartfelt serenade to everyone in the apartment. “Dahyun, you’re the cutest girl in the whole wide world. It is very important that you know that! Hey! Everyone! I’m dating the cutest girl in the world!” Dahyun burst out bashfully in giggles, lifting her hands to shield her face.

Your eyes met with Jimin’s as you exchanged looks. He swayed his body from side to side with a bright smile as Wheein sang loudly off-key, and you lifted your shoulders and shook your head in astonishment at how hilarious and sappy Wheein was when she was drunk.

After Wheein’s display of affection, she plopped down on the couch and slouched while reaching for her drink to take a few sips. Things simmered down as the group began to drunkenly chat about something you didn’t pay any attention to. You walked over to Wheein, trying your best not to lose your balance, and sat down next to her.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink.” You said through fits of giggling and she groaned at your unrelenting responsibility even when you were drunk. You snatched the cup out of her hand and chugged the last of the drink, “But I definitely haven’t.”

“Heyyyyyyy!” She slurred, “That was mine!”

“I’m doing you a favor.” You patted her head. “Also, I approve of Dahyun. But she’s not the cutest girl in the world, that title is already taken by you.” You nudged her lovingly and her head tossed around as she laughed.

“Shh, I love you. You’re the best friend ever.” Her words had slurred even more.

Wheein stood up suddenly and marched sloppily over to your bedroom door, “Pssst, I’m going to pass out now and wake up with a hangover tomorrow, so I bid you all a goodnight!” Dahyun led her to the bedroom and kissed her goodnight. She saluted then disappeared into your room.

“Looks like I’ll have to take care of that tomorrow.” Yeji and Sana laughed at this comment, knowing how whiny Wheein would get even if she had the slightest headache.

You, Namjoon, and Nayeon were looking at pictures of her and Jackson’s trip to the mountains last weekend. Although sober you would have been genuinely excited to hear about it, you found yourself struggling to focus your eyes on the pictures, only offering witless answers. Luckily, Namjoon was much better at holding his liquor and Nayeon was an even bigger extrovert when she was drunk which explained why she didn’t even notice you were barely paying attention.

“So, Jimin, how did your date with that girl go?” You heard your friend Seokjin ask.

This sobered you instantly and you found it eerie how your attention focused on what Jimin was going to say. He looked down at his cup trying to find the words to properly describe it.

“It was okay. She was cute and laughed at all my jokes which boosted my ego.” He smiled softly, but it was merely a condolence to the fact that he couldn’t have admitted he didn’t have as much interest in her as he hoped.

“Damn, you’re not that funny so she must have really liked you.” He jabbed with suggestive implications. Jimin laughed at this and nodded in agreement but his smile slowly faded when he scanned the room only to find that you’d been listening to the conversation.

Your intoxication wore away your ability to hide exactly what you were feeling, as a disgruntled expression lingered on your face. The second he looked at you, your head snapped away from his in humiliation as if he hadn’t already seen you were eavesdropping. 

The night came to an end which was a relief to you. You didn’t know how much longer you could put up a happy, carefree attitude. Whenever your mind almost wandered away from Jimin’s date, it swarmed back into your thoughts and focus and provoked irritation with no restraint.

One by one, your friends left. Jackson cleaned up the last few empty cups, tossed them in the trash, and wiped down your table and counter before he left, hoping that would make up for how he had encumbered your plans. Jimin was laying on the couch so you didn’t bother kicking him out. You guessed he was going to spend the night since he was too drunk to drive anyway.

Your legs moved in a staggered manner and you floundered around the kitchen trying to find your cups. You leaned on the counters for support groaning softly to yourself. Thinking about Jimin on a date, flirting the way he’d flirt with you, or laughing for someone else that wasn’t you was enraging. You couldn’t tell whether it was the alcohol or the fuming envy that made you feel dizzy. It was realistically both those things.

You heard light footsteps approaching you, impeding on your pathetic sulking. You spun around quickly to see who it was which, in hindsight, was the worst possible thing you could do. Before you got the chance to give a face to the presence, your eyes began to see patches of black and your hand caressed your head to keep yourself from passing out on the floor.

“Woah.” You gasped trying to recollect your composure both mentally and physically. A few seconds later you felt two familiar arms wrap around your waist in assistance. The way those limbs delicately held you indicated exactly who it was.

“Hey, hey.” His voice was gentle as he was using his lower register, “You okay?” He was so close to you that you could feel his breath that smelled of liquor against your skin. Your hands wandered to rest against his chest, and you looked up at him. His cheeks tinted a soft pink color. Jimin grinned lightly when you made eye contact with him.

“I’m okay.” You mumbled under your breath, not wanting to speak too loudly because you felt your undigested food threaten to come back up your throat. You face inched dangerously close to his, and he didn’t stop you because of his drunken state. Your chest heaved erratically due to your nausea.

“I’m fine.” You sneered pushing him away with the little might that you had left.

“___, you’re still drunk.” He stumbled back and sounded disappointed which made you feel even angrier.

“Well you are too.” You accused feeling a bit demeaned by his tone. He didn’t say anything to this as his arms lazily returned to his side. “You went on a date? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know?” You were annoyed at his resistance towards you. “I’m your friend. Friends tell each other things like that. What? Did you think I would be mad at you?” You stepped forward feeling bold and confrontational, as a result of your drunkenness. He crossed his arms, refusing to yield to you.

“I never said that.” He looked down at the floor, fueling your agitation even more. You wanted him to look at you. “You don’t seem so happy about it, that’s for sure.”

You let out a groan that dragged out for a bit, “What are you talking about, I’m absolutely ecstatic for you.” You jabbed pettily as you walked past him to continue your search for a water glass. He rolled his eyes at your abnormally aggressive and childish attitude.

“You have no right to be mad.” Jimin grumbled while watching you struggle to find a glass. He reached for the correct cabinet and held out a cup to you. You begrudgingly took the cup from his hand and stumbled over to the sink, briefly losing your balance before catching yourself against the counter. He reflexively reached his arm out to catch you in case you fell.

“You don’t think I know that?” You spat with your voice raised slightly, “You don’t think that I know you’re allowed to go on dates with other girls? You don’t think I want to be happy for you?” You started to get worked up and worried you would let something slip out that you would regret.

“Well it doesn’t seem like you’re trying at all.” Jimin walked to the other end of the kitchen and leaned back against the counter.

“What’s it to you?”

“Oh, I don’t know?” Jimin responded sarcastically, “I kind of have a problem with you being mad at me after you were the one who turned me down.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stuttered over your words.

“I don’t know what I’m talking about.” He repeated what you said to confirm your audacious comment. “Oh, so, I imagined when you said you couldn’t be with me because of your soulmate ring?”

“Jimin, don’t.” You warned.

“No, I clearly remember that you said you weren’t interested. And as much as that hurt and I wanted to tell you that I wanted you to choose me I would never do that. At least I could be kind enough to not take that out on you. And now you’re mad at me for trying to get over you? I should have known not to fall for you. Fuck, I tried to tell myself I made up the connection we had to make me feel better about this. To make this,” He gestured to you and him, “whatever this was not real. I thought if I could convince myself our connection wasn’t real then maybe I could cope with the fact that I’d never get to be with you.”

You began to cry but your buzz was strong enough that all caution was thrown to the wind. You cried unconstrained.

“I’m mad because I know I have no reason to be mad but here I am!” You gestured vivaciously as your passion began to boil over. “I’m mad because-” You took a second to catch your breath, “I don’t know. I’m just mad and I’m sorry. Of course, it’s not your fault but I can’t help the way I feel.”

“Right.” He said coldly, unimpressed with this answer.

“What do you know? You don’t know anything! You don’t know me or what I’m thinking.” This attack was meant to hurt him as much as it hurt you to say. You stomped over to him, spilling a bit of water on your hand and the floor.

Jimin stood up and stepped forward to counter you, causing you to stumble back a bit. His face was so close to yours once more and he could now clearly see your dampened eyes and the way they looked at him with frustration. You regained grounding and tried not to seem intimidated. He could be so gentle and light when he danced, but right now he looked so indestructible that not even a tank could move him

“I don’t know you?” Your skin tingled from the bitterness that stained his voice. He scoffed, running his hand through his hair. Your eyes vigilantly watched him and your heart pumped at an unhuman rate. You prayed he couldn’t tell he had this power over you.

His eyes pierced back at you with such intensity that you wanted to cry harder. You wanted to tell him every bit of how you felt and how much you loved him. You wanted him to know that he’d changed you in the most unpredictable and drastic ways and it unhinged every bone in your body. You were scared because you once believed he would never satisfy you since he wasn’t your soulmate, but now you were scared that even a lifetime of efforts could never repay what he had given you. That all this time, you weren’t enough for him.

Jimin felt his urges get the best of him. Staring into your eyes absolved any resentment he held for you. He felt injected with life whenever he looked at you, even when you were staring daggers at him like you had been now. He didn’t know how long he could resist from kissing you, being that he was drunk and reckless.

You both stood there, silently. Jimin was waiting for you to shoot a drunken, unintelligible comment back and you were waiting for Jimin to rebuke you for lashing out at him. Neither of those things happened. You just remained speechless, as did he.

Eventually, you took a few steps away, breaking the longing stare that had transpired between you and Jimin for what felt like an hour.

“I’m going to bed.” That was the last thing you said before slumping out of the kitchen and entering into your bedroom. You were right in assuming Jimin would stay over since he was too drunk and emotional to drive himself home.

Jimin collapsed onto the couch and finally let himself cry. He hated the fact that things didn’t go back to how they were, and that they most likely never would. You were like water to him. He could experience you and feel you but whenever he tried to hold you in his hands no matter how tightly, you would slip through his fingers. He just wished he could have shared another one of those nothing-everything moments with you he’d foolishly taken for granted. When he closed his eyes, memories of you and him played in his mind until he dozed off to sleep.

You woke up the next morning to a pressure headache that resided in the back of your head. This however was nothing compared to the feeling you got when you checked your phone and saw Jimin had sent you a text.

Jimin: I think I need some space

Jimin: I’m sorry

Before the tears had the chance to well, you stood up and trudged out to the living room to only find that Jimin had already left and Wheein was sitting on the couch flipping through the stations on the television.

“Look at this.” You tossed your phone on the cushion next to Wheein and walked over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Wheein picked up your phone and read the texts, sighing with disappointment. “Fuck, I’m sorry, ___.”

“We kind of had a fight last night.” You muttered, the memories of everything that had happened flooding back into your head. You said so many things you wish you hadn’t and regretted how rude you had allowed yourself to act.

“Yeah, I know. I heard.” Her lips were pressed together as she walked over to you.

“I really know how to fuck things up, don’t I?” You scoffed in mockery of your misbehavior.

Two weeks passed since you and Jimin had fought.

That petty argument stained your mind. That moment was everything. And for once, you wanted it to mean nothing.

Every time your phone alerted you, you reached for it eagerly and immediately in the slim chance that it was Jimin who was texting you. It never was, though, and you only had yourself to blame.

It had been two weeks of self-reprimand and regret.

Fourteen days of missing him and pitifully scrolling through photos and videos that you took of him.

Three hundred and thirty-six hours since saw his smile or scolded him for skipping practice to hang out with you or received a casual compliment from him that never failed to boost your mood when you were upset.

Or heard his laugh.

Coincidentally, tonight was his dance recital he’d been practicing for. You’d been waffling between going and not going for the entirety of those two weeks. Wheein would always reassure you that you should go and that he would appreciate you cared enough to support him.

“You know I can’t make it, its my mom’s birthday weekend. If not for you, go for me.” She pleaded.

It took a few more minutes of Wheein’s persuasion for you to finally decide on going. And you told yourself it was exclusively for Wheein. You told yourself that, but she knew, and you knew you just missed his so much.

You arrived early so you could snag a decent seat. To your dismay, it was already crowded which made you remember Jimin always downplayed his dancing events due to his humbleness. You found a seat slightly askew to the center of the stage, but close enough to get an adequate view. The lights dimmed and you set down your purse and the bouquet of red roses on the floor in front of your legs.

There were a few performers that preceded Jimin, all were talented and passionate but nothing like the way Jimin danced. Maybe it was because you were in love with him, but there was something exceptionally unmatched about his dancing abilities.

He finally walked out on stage and his eyes met with yours almost immediately. Jimin paused and contained his excitement to the best of his abilities. You weren’t fooled though; you could see it in his eyes that he was relieved you attended and you nodded at him to express physically that you wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Jimin looked down as the music started playing, then began his performance. The way his arms flowed so precisely with the rhythm and the elegance he exuded as he leaped across the stage had the audience collectively in awe of his raw talent. His legs moved so delicately that anyone could tell he was the type of dancer that practiced until he couldn’t stand up anymore.

Your breathing was rather heavily but you ignored everything else when Jimin would dance. The intense beating of your heart, the audience, the walls and even the stage had faded away; he was the only thing detectable in your eyes in this moment.

Your presence granted him the motivation to exert every ounce of effort into every single movement. You pitied the unlucky person who had to follow him. Their dance would surely be put to shame by this beautiful, raw, flawless, emotional masterpiece.

When the dance ended, your body crashed back to reality and you realized every muscle in your body had been contracted. You loosened yourself by leaning back into your chair.

He received a standing ovation which didn’t come to a surprise. You stood up, still. Jimin’s eyes were glued to you. You gave him a teary smile and he held his hand to his heart and bowed. The audience had no idea that was for you and only you.

Jimin prayed that you saw it. The longing, the pure dedication, the heartbreak, and the change. You changed him. He wanted you to know that he always thought he’d fall in love countless times, but from the moment he met you that desire had faded. Now, he knew he’d only ever want to love you. 

The remainder of the recital had been a blur. Nothing could prevail in capturing your attention from Jimin. His movements simply replayed in your head until the showcase ended. You stood up and applauded, growing restless to run backstage to congratulate him.

Before you got the chance to greet him, an entire crowd of people swarmed any path that lead to where the dancers were. You grunted and settled on texting him.

y/n: meet me outside on the bridge across the street

Jimin: I’ll be there in about 10 minutes

You thought your heart couldn’t have raced any faster than it did while you were watching Jimin dance, but your body had proved you wrong. You paced up and down the bridge all the while mumbling what you planned on saying to Jimin. You bit your fingernails and leaned against the wooden railing that scaled along the bridge.

“Hey.” Jimin walked up next to you, looking out to the streaming water below the bridge. It was quiet, warm, and serene. The lantern that stood on the end of the bridge radiating a warm tone that accentuated Jimin’s honey skin.

“You did amazing. Just,” You paused, there were no words to do his performance justice, “if I went blind tomorrow, I’d be satisfied.”

Jimin chuckled at your comment, knowing you meant well.

He laughed for you. That beautiful sound echoed in your heart loudly. You missed it so much.

“These are for you.” You handed him the flowers, turning your body towards him. He grinned and cradled them in his arm.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“I heard from Seokjin that you’re planning on making things official with the girl. What’s her name?” You said abruptly. Jimin visibly tensed when you said this.

“Nancy.” He replied.

“Nancy.” You repeated.

There was a long silence, and Jimin opened his mouth about to say something but you beat him to it.

“Don’t be her boyfriend.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because,” You looked back out into the water before continuing, “I know you could never fully dedicate yourself to her like you would to me.” A scoff escaped you when you said it out loud, “I don’t care if that sounds arrogant because I know it’s true. I know because that’s how I’d feel about everyone else too.” You paused, “Even my soulmate.”

“___, do you- that- where is this coming from?” His eyes planted firmly on yours.

“I love you, Jimin.” You blurted it out. The hundred of ways you imagined yourself confessing this to him ultimately resulted in you ineloquently spouting it out. There was no denying your vigor could never diminish when it came to love, it simply was redirected.

“You love me.” He repeated in a stunned state. He just tenderly stared at you, hope and bewilderment bursting through him; he was trying to take it all in.

“I love you. I’ve loved you from the minute I met you and every minute of every day that I’ve known you. And I could never stop myself from loving you, and I was stupid to think that was possible. I’d always been so determined to find my soulmate. I pictured exactly what to say and how we would fall in love, but with you,” You laughed lightly, holding a hand to your heart. Hearing you say these things to him was everything he’d ever wished for, for the months you’d known each other. Needless to say he was fighting back tears.

“I can’t imagine being with anyone else but you. You’ve ruined love for me because I know nothing will ever be as good as the way I love you.”

“You don’t have to say that.” These words struck you, hard. You didn’t know how to convince him, but dammit, you’d never give up trying.

“I couldn’t, though. I couldn’t let go of the way you laugh, you know I always go out of my way to make you laugh? because hearing it makes me so damn happy and I have no idea why. Or how when we look at each other and I can tell exactly what you’re thinking, and you can tell exactly what I’m thinking. Or how you always let me order my food first and pour water into my cup before you pour water into yours. Or the way you tease me for opening the banana on the ‘wrong side’. Or how your dancing is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And every moment you’re not dancing or laughing or teasing me I wish you were by my side doing all of those things.”

“I could never be him. I could never be that for you, you know this right?” He responded in short answers, unable to find the right words that would be a good enough just like when he was seven years old. But, Jimin was older now and held a firm belief nothing could ever express how strongly he feels.

“Good. I don’t want you to be him or anyone else other than you.”

“But what about-”

“No. There’s nothing else to consider. The point is I could never forgive myself if I gave you up for some theoretical opportunity of a soulmate. I found someone even better. I found you. I don’t care what the stars say, I don’t care that your ring is green and mine is green and that we’re technically not soulmates. I don’t care if I never meet my soulmate. What we have is real. Our connection was built by us. You’re real. And I love you so much that’s all I can say.” You stared intently at him becoming exhausted, yet alleviated from finally being able to tell him all this. “This ring had meant everything for me for all my life. When it was green it meant I had a soulmate, when it was black it meant I had no reason to believe in love. But with you, this ring means absolutely nothing. It’s green again and it has never felt so meaningless to me. Does that even make sense?”

“I love you.” He said after about five minutes of silence. He didn’t give you a second to respond because the next think you knew, he stepped towards you and pressed his lips firmly against yours.

It’s true what they say about seeing fireworks when you kiss someone you love. These fireworks covered every inch of the sky and flared brightly, blindingly so, and flew so high in the air that you swore they reached outer space.

Your arms slid around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. His cheeks softly brushed against yours and felt so warm. The softness of his lips could make you cry. Finally being able to kiss him and hold him and admit your love to him did make you cry. His hands caressed your face making you flush red, and his thumb glided against your cheeks to wipe away the hot tears he felt trickling from your eyes.

He pulled back but couldn’t pull too far because he felt some gravitational force drawing him to be near you. Your noses bumped against each other, “The minute you met me, huh?” You laughed, placing another chaste kiss on the side of his smile.

“I warned you I was a hopeless romantic.” You sniffed still recovering from that tearful, enchanting kiss.

He laced his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers, and strode slowly along the park path. You and he talked like you’d always had but now you loved him, and he knew that.

“Favorite cartoon as a kid?”

“Easy, Blue’s Clues.” Jimin said.

“Really? You think Blue’s Clues was the best when Sesame Street exists?”

“Big bird scared me! You just know he’s killed someone. you can see it in his cold, dead eyes.” Jimin argued.

“Oh yeah? Well, at least none of the characters had conversations with their furniture. Steve was one hundred percent insane.” You said, laughing.

“Steve is a legend, don’t say such things about him.” Jimin joined in your laughter, referring to the main character of Blue’s Clues. 

“Go to pick up line?” He asked.

You thought for a moment, “Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

“Wow, that was absolutely terrible I think we have to break up.” Jimin chuckled.

“Oh yeah, like you could do better.” You challenged.

“If nothing lasts forever, will you be my nothing?” He said with eyes so dreamy you almost ignored the fact that this pick up like was just as horrendous as yours.

“How was that better than mine?”

“Trust me, it was.”

“I will. I will be your nothing.” He looked to you and kissed your cheek. You closed your eyes at the sensation of his touch.

“And I’ll be yours?” Jimin whispered against your cheek as if he were asking permission to be the one you choose. You nodded. Of course, he was.

You and him and this moment were nothing. Nothing to the passing strangers, nothing to the waiter that took your order on your first date, nothing to the generations to come, nothing to the universe and trees and grass and stars that surrounded you. Nothing at all.

And yet, to you and Jimin, it was everything. This nothing and everything moment marked the beginning of a lifetime of nothing and everything moments.

Somewhere along these nothing and everything moments, green became just another color to you and your ring was just another piece of jewelry. And nothing more.

Exactly 10 months after that night, you and Jimin planned to return to that bridge. You stood against the railing and looked over to Jimin.

“Uh, move over like two inches to the left.” You giggled, finding that your need for accuracy rubbed off on him.

“Are you sure that’s where I was standing? I could swear it was right here!” You argued, simply to get a rise out of him; you thought it was adorable.

“No, you were definitely standing two inches to the left.” He held his phone and aimed it at you. “Move it!” He ordered with a smile on his face.

“Yes sir!” You stepped to the side then looked at him for approval. He held his thumb up and took a few pictures while you posed.

Afterwards, he walked up to you and placed a kiss on your cheek before showing you the photos. Most of them were blurry and you teased him for his shoddy camera skills. “Wheein’s gonna hate these pictures.” You commented. He laughed and threw his arm across your shoulder as the two of you stared out into the water flowing peacefully downstream. Being here with him brought the memory of that night as if it had happened just yesterday.

“A friend once said to me: ‘it’s crazy that out of all the years and decades and countries we could have been born, we were born in this one, together’.” Jimin’s eyes were fixated on the water in reminiscence of the first time he’d met you, “I thought of what my friend said often when we were together. And it’s as if we were meant to find each other. The universe seems coincidental when it comes to picking soulmates, doesn’t it? At least we got to choose. And I think it purposefully granted us that choice knowing exactly what it would bring us. As if we were meant to bring every bit of love, warmth, and even heartbreak into each other’s lives. It’s kind of like a lottery when you think about it. To me, it feels like fate plucked us out like numbers on a ticket and placed us together.” Jimin looked over to you now, and when you stared into his eyes every one of your questions about love had been answered.

“Numbers are infinite.” You said softly.

“Yeah, and yet, we were picked. I understand now I won the lottery.” He replied and wished time would stop so he could cherish this nothing moment forever.

“There isn’t a doubt in my mind about doing this.” You said with sentiment. “Ready?”

“Ready.” He responded, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

The two of you slipped the soulmate rings off your fingers and you gazed at it one last time.

“Count of three?”

Jimin nodded.

You started the countdown, “One.”

Jimin continued it, “Two.”

Three came in unison and you both threw your rings into the water which was now rushing rapidly.

When you felt the ring slip from your hand and watched as it dropped into the water, you wept. You wept out of pure relief and liberation; an enormous pressure had lifted from your chest and you were finally able to breathe. That ring could never cause you any more pain, nor did that ring replenish your hope you would find love. You didn’t need it anymore.

Because now, you had an endless supply of nothing moments.

and everything moments

and Jimin.

[whereisten]

Cat and Mouse

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | more coming soon

Summary: You’re the daughter of an extremely well-known pastor. You’ve lived a quiet and sheltered life, that is until you meet and fall in lust with a gang leader they call the Grim Reaper.

Pairing: Gang Leader And Yandere!Taeyong X female reader (college student)

Genre: angst, SMUT, violence, if you squint there may be some fluff

Warnings: graphic and violent scenes described, mentions of religious practices (this in no way is meant to offend followers of Christianity), blood and death mention, gun and knife mention, profanity, toxic relationship, little alcohol use, drug addiction themes, stalking, manipulation, corruption kink, innocence kink, female masturbation, pet names, recording of sexual act, porn mention, oral sex (male and female), public sex, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 15.8K

(A/n: warning: Yandere Taeyong is extremely manipulative, he guilt trips and gaslights OC multiple times to get what he wants. This in no way represents the cute and kind Taeyong we really know. This gang leader is actually terrible lmao. TO the anon that requested this, THANK YOU for being so patient!! not my best,but I hope you like it!)

————————

It was just another Thursday night at home. Your parents left earlier that evening to go on a cruise to the Bahamas to celebrate their anniversary so you had the entire house to yourself.

Your father was a famous and wealthy pastor with money to afford an incredible mansion and luxury cars. Most people didn’t understand how someone that preached about humility and giving back to the less fortunate could live in a twenty bedroom house with a twelve car garage.

There was a certain irony behind it that pissed people off.

 Taeyong was one of them. Taeyong and his gang had been watching the pastor, plotting for a robbery. He hated everything about religion and the fact that a man, such as your father, was capitalizing off of the hearts of devoted Christians irritated him. He wanted to take everything away from the pastor that lived in his community because he felt like he was the real criminal. Furthermore, your father never told you or your mother, but some of his wealth did come from his involvement in gangs and the drug trading that occurred in the community. He would use the churchgoers money to purchase large amounts of cocaine from other countries, then sell it on the black market at triple times the street rate. This was sold to business men that had money to spend and just needed their fix, regardless of the cost. The means at which they got their drugs was safer than getting it off the streets anyway. Your father funded the dark web website that almost functioned like the Amazon for drug trades, order today, get it tomorrow with “prime” shipping. Taeyong didn’t like that someone with a good reputation like your father had controlled such a large business. But he also didn’t like that his men were the ones that organized the deals on the website with little reward. They put their lives on the line to get it to these men, avoiding the police at all costs, but your father was behind on paying his workers by five months. Taeyong threatened him several times, but the pastor blocked his phone number and email. What he didn’t know was that Taeyong has access to all of his emails and text messages anyway, so he knew that your father would be gone on a twelve day cruise to the Bahamas. Taeyong took this as the perfect opportunity to drop by his house and well, “borrow” a few things. He knew that the pastor had a daughter, but what he didn’t know was that you’d be home from college for summer break. So there you are, flipping through channels, trying to find something to watch when you stumble across the late-night adult channels. Your thumb hovered over the “up” button as you watched a woman have sex with a man on a fluffy bed. Your eyes widened at how graphic it was. The blonde lady’s was making strange faces while the man held her legs and pushed into her.

You were a sheltered child, you didn’t even have your first kiss, so this was strange to you.

You had been taught the typical Christian rules of not having sex until marriage, but you wondered what it was like. You bit your lips and felt a certain warmth in between your legs that you couldn’t explain as you watched the TV.

You went to a Christian college, but many of the girls there had already lost their virginity and would talk about how they had sex with their boyfriends and touched themselves.

You didn’t even know what the girls at school meant when they talked about vibrators driving them crazy since their boyfriend couldn’t get them off. How could someone use a device to have sex when they were supposed to be in love with whoever touches that area? You’d think to yourself. But you were getting older and curiosity was killing you. You wanted to know about it, you wanted to rebel and feel what most of your friends felt all the time. If everyone can do it and still go to Heaven, why couldn’t you? The scene ended and the next thing you saw was a naked brunette laying on the bed, her back against a tall man. He rubbed his hands along her private area and then dipped two fingers into her. Your jaw dropped and your head turned, this had all looked strange and weird. You were so focused on the TV in your living room that you didn’t hear the front door open, nor the shuffling of several people in the large house. 

You had forgotten to activate the security system for the night, so the cameras weren’t on and neither were the alarms. You were so used to being home alone that you never thought there’d be someone in it with you

You didn’t hear or feel a presence behind the couch. Taeyong stopped in the living room while his gang searched through the house for jewelry and a safe. He watched you and your facial expressions as you watched porn for the first time. He knew that you had no experience at all from the look on your face. You licked your lips and told yourself that it was time. You put your hand in your Rilakkuma pajamas and pressed your finger tips on your folds, you tried to mimic the way in which his fingers dipped in, but it was difficult. There was a weird wall that stopped you and a sharp pain that shot through you when you pushed too hard. You whimpered and opened your legs a little more on the couch, shifting in your seat to get comfortable. There had to be a way, you thought to yourself. Taeyong looked watching you. You were so innocent and cute. He liked the idea that a pastors daughter was trying to pleasure herself on the family couch. He smirked to himself at first, but was turned on by the sight of your widening legs and your moving hand. You had finally found the right spot and started to circle your fingers while pushing them inside you. You closed your eyes and furrowed your brows while you started to breathe harder. The feeling of your insides growing wet was weird, but good. Taeyong watches your mouth open and your head fall back on the couch, your soft, high pitched moans sounded like music to his ears. He had completely forgotten about why he was there. His brain became foggy and he licked his lips which were covered by the skull masks they always wore during robberies. You were unlike any girl he’d seen before, you were soft, pure and beautiful. You wiped the sweat forming on your forehead as you got closer with your other hand.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall behind the couch, still drinking in the wet sounds you made with your fingers and the loud groans you made. It was then that he felt his heart grow an attachment to you. He knew that he wanted to ruin you, pollute you, show you all the things that a sheltered Christian girl never knew about. The fact that you were the daughter of the pastor he despises was the icing on the cake. 

He was breathing heavily as he watched you get off on your fingers.

He had a habit of becoming obsessed with things until he got them and eventually grew tired of them, and he knew that you’d become one of these things. He wouldn’t stop until you were his. His phone buzzed, interrupting his thoughts. It was a text from Haechan. Haechan: found the safe in the bedroom on the third floor, need a code. Taeyong smirked to himself. His boys always found things fast. Out of all the bedrooms in this extravagant house and they found the one with the safe in it. Brilliant. But now they needed a code.

Taeyong hadn’t found anything about a code in his emails or text messages. He thought of all the possibilities and closed his eyes. What was the code? Your moans still flooded his brain as he tried to focus and think hard so they could get out of there.

“Oh my God!” You cried out and his eyes flickered open.

You. It was you. He walked around the couch and stood in front of you while your eyes were still closed. You felt a presence in front of you and your eyes opened. You took your hand out of your pants quickly and screamed. A man with dark red hair and a terrifying skull mask stood over you and tilted his head.

He wore a black long sleeve shirt with a harness around it and black cargo pants tucked into black boots. You breathed heavily and held your head while closing your legs and pushing your body up on the couch. “Take whatever you want! I won’t tell anyone!” The man only stared at you and watched your eyes tear up. “Please, I don’t know why you’re hear but if it’s for money, I don’t have any and I don’t know where my dad keeps it. Please just let me live!” You begged. The man finally took his mask off and held it in his hand. He was unbelievably handsome. He had an eyebrow slit and a hoop in the center of his bottom lip along with several piercings in his ears. You could see the end of a long tattoo on his neck that led up to a jawline that he could certainly cut you with. His eyes were dark and striking. He was overall perfection. You felt the heat in your cheeks rise when he smiled down at you. “I’m sorry for interrupting, sweetheart, but I need something from you.” The man’s voice was deep and shook your body. You shook your head. Why would he let you see his face? Surely, he was gonna kill you after you gave him what he wanted. “I-I don’t have anything!” He stepped closer to you and held out his hand. “Stand up and give me your hand.” You did as he demanded and gave him the dry hand. He shook his head. “The other one. The one you touched yourself with.” You furrowed your brows. “N-no, I wasn’t touching myself!” You panicked and turned to the TV. “I was just..flipping through and-and I just stopped on this channel but I was gonna change it before your stopped me!” Taeyong only smiled wider and took your hand that you tried to hide. He held it up and looked at it before looking back to you. You tried to pull it away but he was stronger. He took your index and middle finger and put it in his mouth while looking into your eyes. You found it hard to look away, your mouth dropped as you felt his tongue lick in between and around your fingers. He took your fingers out and rubbed the tips along his lips while closing his eyes. “Mmmm..you’re just as sweet as I imagined.” You pulled your hand away and looked at the strange man. “W-What the hell is wrong with you?” Taeyong only smiled. He was about to say something when a voice called out from the hallway. “Taeyong! I don’t have any leads on the safe code!” There was another man with him. Taeyong looked to the hallway and was distracted for a split second, so you pushed him away from you and ran towards the other end of the house. Taeyong was caught off guard, but chuckled lightly while you ran. Johnny walked up beside Taeyong. “Who the fuck is that? And where’s your mask?” “The bastard’s daughter. She wants to play a game of cat and mouse.” Taeyong smirked. “Do you want us to kill her?” Johnny asked. “No, she’s mine. Bring her to me unharmed.” The rest of his men ran after you after Taeyong said that. You tried to find somewhere to hide, the front door was too far away and the patio was on the other side.. You cursed this house for being so big for no reason. You ran up the stairs and heard multiple footsteps follow you. You breathed heavily, dashing into a bedroom and locking the door. You stepped away from the door and looked around for an exit. You couldn’t jump out the window, you’d break your legs. Hiding in the closet wouldn’t help. You heard the door handle being fiddled with. They found you. “Open the door! We’re not gonna hurt you!” A voice yelled out. You panted and looked around. You looked above you and saw the vent. You glanced back at the door when you heard the man trying to break it down by slamming his body into it. You quickly lifted yourself up on the dresser below the vent and jumped up. You had to tip toe to pull the door of the vent open, but once you did, you raised your arms above your head and tried to pull yourself up into it. Thank God for the upper body strength you had. You were halfway inside when the door finally broke down and the men entered. “Hey!” The man ran up to you and grabbed your dangling legs. “No!” You cried out and tried to pull yourself away, but the man was too strong. You fell down through the hole and into the man’s arms. He also wore a skull mask, but was much larger than the man in your living room. You looked around and saw three other men surrounding you. Two of which had a bats in their hands. You couldn’t escape. “Don’t kill me please!” You cried out again. The tall man threw you on to the bed. “I would’ve killed you a long time ago if I wanted to, sweetie. But the grim reaper wants you alive.” “The who?” You scurried and held yourself up with your elbows behind you. “What do you want?” You cried out. Then you saw the red haired man calmly walk through the crowd of men in front of you. It was him, he was the grim reaper. You could tell because of the way he commanded the room as he walked in calmly and quiet;y, but still looked deadly. 

His feline-like eyes narrowed in on you, making you feel small. “Oh little mouse, where you going?” He sat at the edge of the bed. “Don’t be scared.” He tried to calm you down. “I’ll make you a deal..” he started while wiping away a tear that ran down your cheek. “If you tell me the code..I’ll let you live and I won’t tell anyone, not even your father, what sin you committed tonight.” You cried and sniffled. “I..promise..I don’t know it.” Taeyong smiled wickedly. “I know you don’t know it..but what’s your birthday?” You were hesitant to share that information because if that was the code, your family would lose everything in that safety these strange men, but you couldn’t let your parents know that you touched yourself and committed such a tragic crime in a Christian household, they’d be so disappointed. You swallowed hard. “April fifteenth.” Two of the men ran out of the room while Taeyong smiled. “Thank you.”

He turned to the other men. “Leave us.” Once they left, he turned back to you. You jumped when he touched your leg. He took out a switch blade and you saw the twinkling reflection of a sharp knife. He ran it along your neck while you breathed heavily.

You shivered at the feeling of the cold blade on your skin. “What were you really doing little mouse, don’t lie to me and you might just live.” You exhaled and closed your teary eyes. 

“Yes, I was watching porn..I-I’ve never had sex, I haven’t even touched myself before tonight..I feel like a loser and I wanted to know what it’s like. Please don’t kill me.” You were surprised to hear so much come out of your mouth to a complete stranger. But he made you nervous. “I see.” he glanced down to your lips. “Well, it would be a shame to kill you before you can experience this.” Taeyong almost pities you, the innocent and sheltered girl, while he drags the knife down your sweaty arm. “I’ll let you know my secret..my name’s Taeyong and those are my men. Your father pissed us off so we’re coming to take what’s ours.” He looked into your eyes before continuing. 

“When they ask you what happened, tell them that you don’t know, you were out for ice cream and when you returned home, you saw that someone had broken in.” His low voice made your eyes widen. “I’ll let you live, and for tonight, we’ll take the money and jewelry. But I’ll be back for you, little mouse.” 

You opened your mouth to ask what he meant but he put a finger on your lips. “Don’t tell anyone or I’ll kill your mother first, sweetheart. Nod like a good girl if you understand.” You nodded quickly and watched as the strange man took his finger away and left the room. You laid there, terrified and shaking. You listened to the men yelling and laughing as the destroyed the house. You heard glass break and paintings being destroyed while you cried. You got up slowly when you heard the shuffling stop and walked downstairs. The place was a mess, they not only ravaged through your place, but broke everything. Your father never made anyone upset. He made everyone happy and at peace with his sermons. How could he upset these men? What did he do? You pulled out your phone and called him. “Hello? Dad?” You sniffled. “I-I just came home..and there’s been a robbery.” You felt bad for lying to your parents but you had to, who knows what Taeyong would do if he found out you told the truth. Part of you was terrified by him, but another part was interested for some reason. 

Was it the way he looked at you through lustful eyes and the power he commanded over the room? Or the fact that he lived a completely different lifestyle from you and was the typical “bad boy?” ————— A few weeks later and things return to normal. Your dad didn’t lose too much, and you found it weird that he wasn’t more upset than he was. But he claimed that he was just glad that you weren’t home when the savages came. The robbery made headlines and thousands of church guests donated to the rebuilding of your house and life. In public, your parents cried and thanked everyone endlessly, but in private they were all giggles. Something didn’t feel right, and the whole thing made you look at them differently. “Can you believe that we ended up with more than we lost?” Your dad laughed one evening when the three of you had dinner. “Yeah, the community really is amazing when they work together to help people.” You mom took a bite of her caviar. “Shouldn’t we give it back then?” You interrupted. Your dad wiped his mouth. “Now, why would we do that? This is a gift from God, we must embrace it and yes, we will use our voices and our power as role models in the community to help others, but we need not put the money we’ve been given back out there. This is all for a greater cause, y/n.” You nodded and looked back at your salad. ————— The weeks following the robbery felt weird. You always felt like someone was watching you. Taeyong’s dark gaze was both alluring and terrifying and the fact that he had watched you touch yourself only made you more paranoid. You were embarrassed, yes, but he made you feel..sexy about it. It was a strange feeling and you didn’t understand why part of you liked it. Taeyong was watching you. He would watch you as you went to dinner with your parents or shopped in Target. He was always there. He couldn’t let you go, and he knew he needed more. Your purity and soft expressions contradicted everything about himself, that’s why he liked you. And to see you being curious about sexual feelings sent him overboard. You had everything he didn’t have, in terms of wealth and status, but he also had experiences you’d never dreamt of. He knew ways in which to shatter your perfect world and innocent nature. He’d sit on his motorcycle and watch you skip around in your cute plaid skirts, frilly knee highs and button up blouses and all he could think about was how badly he wanted to ruin you. You are simply being yourself and living a life free of worries and sin, and he wanted to change that. One day when you went to tennis practice, he decided to watch you play. He wanted to hurt the tennis coach when she hit you with a high speed tennis ball on your thigh. You cried out and dropped to the floor, but the coach only scolded you for being too slow.

It took everything in him to not pull his gun out. Nonetheless, you got up and tried harder.

He felt the heat in his chest rise as he watched your glistening and sweaty skin peak out from under your white tennis skirt and on the tops of your breasts in your sports bra. 

You were breathing heavily, your mouth was swollen from you biting your lips while you played intensely, your eyes dark and low, and you drank so much water, some droplets escaped and dripped down your chin and neck. His impure thoughts drove him wild and he knew he had to talk to you again. And so, when you walked home after he practice, he cornered you. You smiled and thanked the barista at Starbucks for your drink before turning to head out the door.

The tennis court was only a few blocks away from your house so you decided to walk home while drinking an iced caramel macchiato, probably not the best choice for post-workout session, but it made you happy. You sucked your straw while looking at your phone, but when you left the Starbucks you heard a voice call out to you. “Do you think Serena drinks caramel macchiatos after practice?” The low voice said. You slowly turned to see who it was. Your eyes widened. It’s him, the red haired man that broke into your house now leaned against the wall and eyed you up and down. You suddenly felt naked in your tight tennis uniform. You nearly dropped your drink as you stepped back slowly. “W-What are you doing here?” “What? A gang leader can’t enjoy a drink from Starbucks?” He took a long sip of his iced coffee while watching you intensely. “Were you watching me?” “I told you I’d be back, little mouse.” He walked closer to you.

“Take a ride with me.” He tilted his head to a motorcycle that stood beside the sidewalk.

You looked at it, then back at him. He wore a red high collar shirt and black jeans ripped at the knees. A pair of round sunglasses on his face made him look cool and relaxed. It was incredibly hot outside but he still wore dark clothing and black boots. The worst part was that you felt an aching in your chest at the sight of his toned arms, tattoos and piercings. “I-I have to go home.” Taeyong raised his slit eyebrow and threw his empty cup away. 

He smirked. “It wasn’t a question. Get on.” What could you do? The man surely would’ve killed you if you ran away. So you let him help you get on his motorcycle. Nervous but eager to see where he was taking you. You got on and held onto his small waist. 

To your surprise, Taeyong took you to the summer fair. “The fair? Really?” You looked up at the big sign above you as you two walked in. Taeyong didn’t pay, he only brushed past the guards and ticketing workers as he nodded at them. “What are we doing here? And how did you get us in for free?” You asked all the important questions but Taeyong only smirked and chuckled. “So many questions..” He took your hand in his and took you to the first rollercoaster he saw. “I’ve been meaning to visit this place, but never had someone to go with.” Taeyong watched your face as you looked on the intimidating rollercoaster. He saw your worried eyes and slightly parted lips, the way your hands gripped the metal barricade in front of you as you waited to be called on. “Are you nervous?” He asked, his tone a bit softer. You turned to him and looked into his concerned eyes. “Why do you care? It’s not like I can back out without you killing me.” Taeyong’s smile dropped and he put a hand on your shoulder. 

“Oh, little mouse, you don’t need to be worried about that, I’d never kill you..” He stepped closer and your breathing stopped as he looked down on you with those sharp, magnetic eyes.

“But I will make you suffer endlessly...by forcing you to go on a rollercoaster.” His straight face turned into a bright smile as he winked. He was confusing. Scary at some points, but attractive at other times. And his words made no sense, was he messing with you?

And why didn’t you call the police or your parents? What was this control Taeyong had over you? You brain screamed danger but your heart was being pulled in. You wanted to know what a dangerous lifestyle was like for once. You wanted to stop living a “simple” life.

He watched you the entire ride, laughing as you screamed during the long dips and swift turns. You looked at him and hit his side with a small fist. 

“Hey! It’s not funny.” You went on the Twister and a few other rides with him, laughing and smiling at each other like a regular couple. He even used his shooting skills to win you a Hello Kitty plush bear.

No one would’ve known that you were brought there against your will, or that the crazy man was a gang leader. He took your hand in his as you walked to the food truck area. “How’s your leg?” “Wait, you saw that?” You held your head with your other hand, too focused on the question to notice the strange way you two walked together holding hands. You looked up at him but he only looked forward, avoiding your gaze. “I like you, little mouse, and we both know you have never had a boyfriend, right?” The question nearly made you stop walking. “N-no.” You whispered, a bit embarrassed that you, a college student, never dated someone. Taeyong smiled to himself. Perfect. Everything was falling in line for him. “Well, little mouse, that’s what people do when they like someone, they’re always there to watch and support their significant other. How would I know that you were hurt and needed some fun if I didn’t stalk you a little?” Something didn’t feel right, but Taeyong’s eyes were softer as he talked to you, he rubbed a hand on your arm and gave you a small smile. 

Why did part of you want to trust him? Was it because you knew nothing about love and how people show it? Taeyong was teaching you more than anyone else did about relationships and you appreciated that.

So you brushed off the bad feeling you had and looked down at your thigh. “Well, I do have a bruise, but I’ll be fine. Thank you for taking me here.”

You were surprised that he cared, but you didn’t think it weird that he was there watching you in the first place.

He only smiled and took your hand again. “I’m glad you appreciate my efforts, you can make it up to me later.” He winked. You were in line for a smoked turkey leg, and you wanted to know more about the strange man in front of you that suddenly couldn’t stop smiling.

“Okay but why me?”

Taeyong didn’t shuffle through his wallet for cash like everyone else did. He only clicked his tongue and waited for the chef to nod. He turned back to you. “Because you’re the only girl I have my eyes on..because I feel bad for breaking into your parents’ place.” You scoffed and furrowed your brows. “Oh really? You think this makes up for that?” “Come on, y/n, you and I both know your parents made even more than they lost. So in a way, I kinda helped you guys.” His eyes never let go of you while he bit into the turkey leg and chewed a large chunk of it. You rolled your eyes and couldn’t help but smile. How did things end up this way? Who was this man? “Are you happy you came with me?” He asked with a full mouth. “I had a good time, but I still don’t understand what you want from me.” You looked around nervously. He swallowed hard and handed you the leg. “Have you ever had a smoked turkey leg?” You shook your head. “No.” He scoffed. “Try it.”

You took a bite out of the leg and your eyes widened at the explosion of flavor. It was so good, it tasted cheap, yes, but the Smokey flavor was unlike anything you’d ever had.

“There’s so much..that you haven’t experienced yet..I just want to show you the world you don’t know, will you let me do that?” You nodded without thinking it through. What was the catch? “Yes, my parents have kept me sheltered and protected, and..I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know about most things..that the average person knows about.” You went on a tiny rant, but Taeyong already knew this.

He was captivated by the way you chewed and how your round cheeks filled up with even the tiniest bites of food. Your round eyes dazzled in the sunlight and your lips formed a small pout. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. “Have you ever kissed anyone?” You looked down and were about to shake your head but Taeyong lifted your chin with his free hand and leaned down to your face. The handsome man placed a long kiss on your lips while your eyes were wide open. This was all so sudden, but you didn’t pull away. You liked it, you had finally been kissed. When he raised his head you looked up at him innocently. “W-What was that?” “I’m sorry, I had to.” He stepped closer to you and gave you a questioning look. “Do you like me, y/n?” You had just gotten to know this man and he was already asking if you liked him. Your sheltered and nervous mind screamed ‘no’ at first, but damn it you wanted to do something different. 

You wanted to live like everyone else did. You felt things you never felt before in your short time with Taeyong and you weren’t sure if it was love, but you knew it was different. 

Taeyong was probably not the best choice for your first “love,” the man was a killer and leader of a dark life, but you wanted to experience everything he was willing to show you. So, you dove in.

“Yes.” You nodded and looked into his eyes. He smirked. “Then you should kiss me back, but open your mouth this time.” You were hesitant, but Taeyong leaned down to you and kissed you again. This time, you felt his tongue on your lips. You slowly opened your mouth and felt it enter. He held your head in his hands as he turned his own and found your tongue. You lifted it and felt your eyes shut while you enjoyed this new feeling. He guided the kiss, playing with your tongue and licking your lips whenever he pulled away to breathe.

You loved the feeling and put your arm around his neck to pull him back towards you. Your chest rose up and down rapidly while you kissed him and his hands found your waist. He brought you closer to his hot body as you placed a hand on his chest lightly. Taeyong felt light headed when you were close to him like this. The feeling of your soft, round lips finally on his made his heart flutter. You were all his. He couldn’t think of anything but you. When you pulled away from him you looked up to see him biting his lips and blushing. “You did so well. Did you like that?” He held your chin and rubbed it with his thumb. “Yes.” That was all you could say as you thought of how good his lips and tongue felt on yours. Everything felt magical during the sunset. The lights behind his head and the gathering of more people around you. Everything felt warm. Then, reality set in.

“It’s getting dark, I have to go home.” He nodded and took your hand. “Let’s go.” You were walking past the tables by the food trucks as Taeyong held your hand. A man sitting at one of the tables stuck is foot out at the last second, making your trip and fall halfway down before Taeyong caught you and held you up. The men laughed and looked at your skirt, trying to catch a glimpse of your underwear. You both turned to them while you brushed yourself off. “Sorry dear..” the man started. “but I suggest wearing shorts next time.” The man and everyone at his table burst into laughter while you felt the heat in your cheeks rise. Taeyong came up behind you and stepped in front. The man looked up and wiped his teary eyes.

“Oh look, it’s the grim reaper himself. I’m sorry for tripping your angel of a girlfriend.” He rolled his eyes. Taeyong was silently boiling. How dare someone touch you and laugh at you. He tilted his head before placing both hands on the table. “Which hand do you use to play with your dick, you fat piece of shit?” Taeyong’s words made you jump as the man raised an eyebrow. He scoffed, “I use both when I’m fucking your girlfriend.” The man let out but before he could take another breath, Taeyong took a knife out from his waist band and stabbed the man through the center of his hand that rested on the wooden table. You covered your mouth and backed away as the blood spewed out from the man’s hand and he screamed out in pain. People nearby screamed too and ran away. Blood decorated Taeyong’s face while the other guys sitting at the table jumped up and ran. 

The man tried to take Taeyong’s hand off of the knife so that he could remove it, but he forced the mans hand away and pulled out another shiny knife, stabbing that hand and pinning the man to the table again. 

More blood spewed onto Taeyong’s face as he laughed. But he didn’t stop there. He dragged the first knife through the man’s hand and up his wrist, cutting it in half with the sharp blade.

“Oh God!! NO!! Stop!! HELP!” The man cried out but no one helped him. Everyone was gone and the food truck workers only shook their heads as they watched. “You’re right, I am the grim reaper.” Taeyong leaned in close to the man’s face and looked him in the eyes with a menacing expression. 

“And guess what? No one can help you. Not even God.” Taeyong said before slicing through his other arm. The man stood up and bled profusely before passing out and falling onto the dirt. You didn’t notice that you started crying in fear. “T-Taeyong?” How could the man you just kissed moments ago become so violent? Was this who he really was? He turned to with a bloody face and smiled. 

“Don’t cry, little mouse, he had it coming.” He walked up to you and tried to hold you with his bloody hands but you stepped back. “Why?” You shook your head as tears fell. “Because I like you! Because he hurt you! Don’t be afraid of me.” He started but you couldn’t stand to be around him, everything felt so wrong. You were hit with the reminder of who he was. 

He wasn’t some sweet gentleman here to show you the beauty of the world, he was a bad person that only knew the dark sides of it. You turned and ran away from him, pushing through the crowd to try to get as far as possible. He would’ve followed you but he knew that it was too much for you. If he had just controlled his anger, he could’ve had his boys handle the man, but he didn’t. He was used to the violence, but he had to give you time. ———— A few weeks past and you didn’t text Taeyong even when he asked you out for lunch. You were scared of him, but part of you missed the feeling he gave you when he was nearby, looking at you fondly, watching your every move. You brushed off your thoughts and visions of him and walked into the practice room for your piano lesson. You always went to piano practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but on this visit, your piano teacher wasn’t present in the choir room you used for your lessons. “Hello?” You called out and looked around “It’s just you and me, little mouse.” “What are you doing here?” Your eyes wide when you recognized the mans voice.

“Well, you didn’t text me back, so I had to come see you.” He stood in the corner of the room with his arms crossed, this time he wore a gray long-sleeve that clung to his arms. He looked irritated, like he hadn’t slept for days. “Don’t worry, I’ll forgive you if you play something for me.” He stepped closer, but your gripped the strap of your backpack and baked away. “Forgive me for what? You nearly killed a man! What did you expect me to do?” He laughed. But slammed a hand down on the piano. You jumped at the sound. “I expect you to thank me for standing up for you!” 

His voice was loud and husky, his dark eyes looked up at you. You wore a pink short skirt that rested above the middle of your thighs with a thin white button down shirt tucked into it. And of course, those frilly white knee-highs that he loved. “How could you leave me?” He stepped closer to you, making you back into the door of the practice room. You didn’t know what to say, he did defend you even though he scared you. “Don’t you understand that I did that for you? I could’ve been arrested.” Taeyong moved a strand of hair from your face.

You looked up at his lips innocently. You forgot about everything. The only thing you thought about was the feeling of them on you.

You leaned in and kissed him first this time. You missed the feeling and closed your eyes while moaning out lightly.

Taeyong kisses you hard this time, biting your lips before pulling away and kissing your neck. He held your body close to his, focusing on your moans and heavy breathing. But he had to hold himself back, he wasn’t ready to take you yet. He wanted you to beg for him. He took your hand and led you back to the piano. “Sit and play a song for me. Don’t mess it up.” He demanded as you sat down and flipped the pages to the song you had practiced with your teacher. 

You gulped, worried for what might happen in you made a mistake.

He sat beside you and you started to play Piano Sonata No.24 by Beethoven. Despite your hands being shaky, you put your fingers on the keys and played. You started off well but jumped a bit when Taeyong breathy voice entered your ears. He whispered “I remember when I first saw you, you were touching yourself, isn’t that right, little mouse?”

You nodded, and stared straight ahead at the sheet music, finding it difficult to focus on the piece.

“Do you really want to know what it’s like?” He continued. You nodded and your breath hitches in your throat as his large, cold and bruised hands run up your thigh. The touch of his hand on your thighs makes you feel a heat between your legs, much like what you felt that night.

He stops his hand and runs his gun along the inner skin on your thigh instead, running it all the way up to your private area. You gasp at the feeling of a weapon being so close to your core, but Taeyong whispers again and drags the pistol back down to your knee. “Keep playing.” You continued, but missed a beat and picked your hands up off the piano. He inches the gun up your thigh but you continue with the song. A few bars later and you mess up again. He pulls the gun up further. You can’t stop skipping notes and playing incorrect rhythms until the gun finally touched your aching core. You pull your hands away and look at Taeyong who is focused on the device between your legs. “I’m sorry, please don’t kill me.” You beg. “Oh sweet girl, I already told you I’m not gonna kill you. You can leave whenever you want to, unless..you don’t want me to stop?” He whispers and continues to rub the gun against your folds.

You grip the piano tightly and shake your head. Everything felt wrong, how could an inanimate object make you feel this way?

“It’s okay, relax.” Taeyong’s deep voice and closeness calmed you down, and you felt the need to embrace this new feeling. You needed to know what others talked about when they talked about sex. “Close your eyes. Focus on the feeling.” He whispered into your neck. His hot breath pushed you along further.

You do as he says and breathe heavily, gasping at the strange, but good feeling you start to have. The cold metal pressing against you through your underwear makes you wet. “Does it feel good? Do you like the feeling of my gun on you, little mouse?” You sigh and nod, biting your lips and grunting as you start to rock your hips. “Why does it feels so good?” “This is what it’s like...I’m gonna make you cum for the first time, sweetheart.” His deep voice echoes in your head. He watches your lips part and your mouth fall open and feels the restraint in his pants. You moan a few more times as he kisses your neck and you move your wet opening against his gun on your own. He listens to your moans get louder, but before you can cum, he removes the gun and stands up from the stool, taking a few steps back and looking down on you as you still sat and breathed heavily, your forehead sweaty and your lips open. “Now, follow my orders, be a good girl.” You nodded, saddened by the withdrawal of his gun for some reason. “Put your hand on your pussy.” He smirked. You shakily lowered your hand. “How does it feel?” “It’s wet..and warm.” You breathily answered. He smiled. “Good, now turn to me and put one leg on each side so that your legs are open, and put your hands out in front.” You moved as he said and jumped slightly at the feeling of the cold leather in between your legs. He put his gun away and took out a switch blade, running it against your thighs, the sharp knife made you chilly. “Lift your skirt and lean back a little, sweetheart.” You moved again as he looked into your eyes while running the blade across the delicate skin of your inner thigh. You bunched your skirt up around your waist as he licked his lips and moved closer. You watched and breathed heavily, unsure of what he’d do next. “My gun made you so wet already, little mouse.” His mouth turned upward into a smirk as he looked at your soaking panties. He used the knife to cut the waist band of your panties and dragged the fabric from under you, making it so that your bare flower was against the smooth leather. “Now, slide forward and backward.” You leaned forward and started to rock your hips back and forth again, but Taeyong wasn’t pleased that you were barely touching the seat. He placed two hands on your shoulders and pressed you down. “Keep moving, yes, just like that little mouse.” He stepped back again.

Your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling and the strange building of liquid under you. You placed your hands in front of you and leaned forward so that your clit rubbed against the chair.

Something was building up in your stomach, you weren’t sure what it was. The aching in your clit made you cry out quietly in the studio. You looked up to see Taeyong recording you with his phone from two feet away. “Unbutton your bra.” “Like this?” You looked up at Taeyong innocently while unbuttoning the top three buttons and still moving back and forth. He nearly lost it when he saw your large eyes through the phone screen. “Yes, sweetheart, and take your boobs out of your bra.” You still held your body as it moved back and forth with one hand in front, but took your boobs out of your bra just like he told you to. “Ah! Cold..” you hissed at the cold air that hugged your breasts once you picked them out. “My nipples..they’re so firm and hard, is that supposed to happen?” Your high pitched and confused voice made Taeyong chuckle. He bit his lips as he watched your boobs jump up and down while you fucked yourself on the stool. “Yes, little mouse, that’s a good thing. Now, move faster.” You swallowed hard and picked up the pace while still holding your breasts. The sounds of your wet entrance against the leather covering filled the air.

You felt weird and raw. You bit your lips to hold back the sounds that wanted to escape your chest. The plush surface of the stool against your folds drove you crazy. How could something so simple make your chest so weak? “Open your mouth, let it out, the louder you are the better you will feel.” Taeyong demanded while still recording you. Your mouth fell open and you were happy to see Taeyong’s approval. Your whines grew louder as your pace increased automatically. “Do you like fucking yourself on the stool?”

You bit your lips and nodded, the strange heat building made your head spin. “Look at the camera and say it, tell me what you’re doing with your sweet pussy.” You opened your eyes and looked the phone. “I’m f-fucking myself with the leather s-seat of a stool.” The words barely left your mouth before the high pitched moans escaped.

“Oh—oh my God.” You whimpered You let go of your boobs and used your both hands in front of you move faster and further down onto the stool.

Taeyong’s pants felt extremely restrictive as he grew. The sight of you slowly losing your innocence made him weak. Your skin was glistening with sweat, your chest moved fast and your full lips stayed open while you cried out the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard. “Good girl, are you going to cum?” He huskily let out. “I-I dont know..everything feels weird. But it feels good..” You whined and moaned loudly. “What feels good?” Taeyong’s calm voice let out. “My pussy..it’s feels so good, Taeyong.” You shut your eyes tightly and moved a few more times before you felt the sudden tremble of your core under you. Your boobs jumped and your legs fell weak as you came. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as your jaw tensed. Taeyong loved every second of it and was glad to get it on camera. Your mouth still open as you moved slowly and came down, he thought of how your lips would look around his dick. But this was enough for today. “Good girl, you came.” Taeyong got up and rubbed your cheek. “Get up.” He helped you up off the stool. “Look at that, little mouse, look at how wet you are.” You looked down and saw the leather completely covered in the liquids that escaped you. “Why is it like that?” Taeyong laughed. “It’s good...” He took your hand as he stood behind you and brought it down to your core. “Do you feel that?” His fingers over yours as he pushed them in between your folds. “Yes” You nodded, still shaken up by your orgasm. Taeyong’s hot breath on your neck made you weaker. “A wet pussy is a good pussy” Taeyong let go and you were saddened by the withdrawal. “Now, little mouse..before our next lesson, I want you to suck a few lollipops.” He looked at your lips. “When’s our next lesson?” You asked, eager to see him again for some reason. You had completely forgotten about why you were upset with him, what he had done.

He was helping you get over your sexual awkwardness and you liked that, even if it was coming from a gang leader. That was all you cared about. He made you feel good and now you wanted more. “A little impatient aren’t we? Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll find you.” He winked and left you alone in the now quiet studio. ———— Taeyong goes about his daily life of crime, but still can’t get his mind off of you He’d have sex with other girls he’d meet at the nightclub his gang controlled but nothing compared to the sight of you. He’d try to get off on the girls as they danced for him but nothing worked, he couldn’t get hard and cum if he didn’t think about your body and the way you moved it on the leather chair.

He pictured your lips and heard the echoing sounds of your high pitched whimpers and moans. When he was alone, he’d get high and watch the video of you on his phone. He’d touch himself as he watched and feel completely blissful as he came while higher than the clouds. But he knew he needed more, he needed another fix. It had been two weeks but he couldn’t shake the thought of you out of his head. When he robbed people, he thought of you. When he killed people, he thought of your innocent eyes. He had to see you. Taeyong goes to watch you play tennis again but you still didn’t know. He liked the way you sweat and move.

So he decides that it’s time for your second lesson.

He waits for you at home, creeping into your bedroom through your window. He saw your parents cars in the driveway so he knew they were home. While waiting in your bedroom, he syncs his phone with your TV so he can play the video he took of you when you get out the shower. He starts to play the video, his head falling back against the headboard while he watches your innocent expressions on the screen. That’s when you came out of the bathroom attached to your room. You clutch your towel around you tightly and jumped in surprise when you saw the man on your bed. “H-how did you get in here?” Taeyong smiled. “Nice to see you too.” You heard panting and light moaning and turned to the TV.

Your eyes widened, it was you in your white blouse moving up and down the leather seat in the practice room. You had completely forgotten that Taeyong had taken and kept the video on his phone. “This isn’t good, you should delete that.” You turned back to him and pointed at the screen. “Oh, little mouse, I kept it so you can remember how good you felt.” You looked back at the screen and your jaw dropped at how you looked like a porn star. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart, come here.” Taeyong patted your bed. You turned to him and walked slowly, still holding your towel around you. “Do you trust me?” He asked as he looked up at your exposed collar bones and the water droplets that dropped from your wet hair. You pouted and looked away. “I don’t know.” “Do you want to feel good again? Look at me.” He touched your hand as you looked back at the gorgeous man. “..yes.” He smiled slowly. “Come here. Get on the bed.” You still held your towel and climbed on the bed, kneeling over his lap as he massaged your thighs. Your moans on the TV echoed in the back of your head. “Listen...you sound beautiful.” Taeyong’s voice was dark and low. He rubbed his hands along the soft skin of your hips, lifting up the towel. He pressed his thumbs on the skin and bit his lips. “I want you to ride my face, little mouse.” You gasped. “You what?” “Ride my face, move just like you did on the seat.” Taeyong worked his hands to your waist. “I’m gonna make you feel good.” You nodded, he pushed himself further down your bed so that his face replaced his lap. You still held the towel as you hovered over him, hesitant to show him your naked body.

“Let me see all of you, please.” His hot breath fanned your sensitive skin, making you tremble in his hands. You nodded and dropped your towel. “Good girl, now lower yourself onto me.” He made you so weak with his husky voice. His hands gently pushed you down towards him and you started to move when you felt his plush lips against your folds. He sticks his tongue in between them, giving you one long stripe as you start to move back and forth. Your breath stays in your chest and you hold onto the headboard for support as your weak and incredibly sensitive to the feeling of his hot tongue on you. Taeyong marvels at the sight do your body above him, the roundness of your breasts, the way your nipples stuck out from the pillowy soft skin, and the beauty of your untouched pussy on his mouth. He lays his tongue flat while you move, kissing your clit every now and then to send shockwaves through your body. He likes to see how jumpy you are at the new feeling.

But he pulls you down towards him whenever you push up away from him, forcing your legs further apart so you had to lower yourself. “Taeyong—“ You breathily call out his name and let your head fall back, while still rocking your hips back and forth. Taeyong hums and dips his tongue inside to give you more. His tongue laps up the juices between your folds and moves from your clit to your dripping opening. You nearly lose it as he explores your pussy with his mouth, moaning and crying out while you get closer to cumming. Taeyong digs his thumbs into your waist, making you yelp out in the unexpected and bruising pain.

“Quiet down, sweetheart, we don’t want your parents to hear, isn’t that right?” Taeyong’s raspy voice lets out. You nod amd shut your lips tightly, trying to prevent any sound from getting out. You move faster, gripping hard onto the headboard while Taeyong passionately circles his tongue around your clit and along your folds. He moves a hand to your clit and runs circle around it slowly while sticking his tongue deep inside you. This new feeling of the combined attacks on your core makes you go crazy, you can’t hold back anymore and cry out his name loudly. “Taeyong!” He slaps your ass hard with his other hand, making you jump. You put a hand over your mouth as Taeyong brings you to the edge with his mouth, moaning into it as tears start to form.

You moved back and forth a few more times before cumming. You tried to lift yourself off of his face as you came but he used his large, veiny hands to force you back down onto him.

You shake uncontrollably and look down at him while he holds you still, your mouth falling open in a silent ‘O’ shape.

He licked everything up while looking you in the eyes. He was so hard, he wanted to fuck you until you moaned so loudly, your parents would think you were being attacked, but he knew he couldn’t. Not tonight.

He finally lets you go and you fall down on the bed beside him, exhausted and weak with the a tired feeling in your legs. He wipes his mouth with the bath towel and leans over you. 

“You were such a good girl for me, baby.” He kissed your forehead while you smiled. “That was amazing.” You let out. Taeyong sat up and flipped channel while you looked at the ceiling blissfully. “There’s a video I wanted you to see.” Taeyong turned to you and held your hand.

You sat up straight and looked at the TV. The video features a man dressed as a priest and a woman dressed as a nun.

“Why are we watching this?” You ask as Taeyong rubs small circles on your back. At first it seems like an innocent video of people in a church, but then you see what it really is.

The nun undressed like the priest tells her too then gets on her knees. You gasp as you watch the nun open her mouth for the priest and gives him a blow job in the church. “Is this real?” “Yes” Taeyong lies, they’re just actors but he doesn’t want you to know that. You gasp at the sight. “Isn’t this..wrong?” Taeyong chuckles at how naive you are. “No, little mouse, they are in love, So this isn’t wrong..now, watch closely.” You observe the way the lady’s head bobs up and down, and how she takes the priests entire length in her mouth. Your head turns and you wonder how it’s possible at a to fit so much in one’s mouth. “If you’re a good girl like she is, you’ll be rewarded greatly.” Taeyong watches your wide eyes on the TV. He gets up and sits on the edge of the bed. He could’ve just laid on the bed and had you between his legs while he rested his back against the headboard, but having you under him on the floor would feel so much more..satisfying. He takes your hand and gets you off the bed. “Get on your knees and be a good girl for me.” You look up at him while he rubs his thumb over your bottom lip. He unzips his jeans and takes his erect dick out. the size is intimidating, not as large as the man’s in the video, but you’re still not sure how you could fit all of him in your mouth. “What’s wrong, baby?” He asks once he sees your sad expression. “I’m not sure..if I love you, Taeyong.” Taeyong smiles and laughs lightly, still moving his hand up and down his member, circling around shaft and spreading the pre cum over it. He had built himself up so much, just the sight of you below him would make him cum hard if he kept moving his hand. But he wanted to feel your pretty mouth on him badly. “Well..do you hate me?” You shake your head. “No, no I don’t, Taeyong.” “And what is the opposite of hate?” Taeyong raises an eyebrow. “Love.” The word barely leaves your mouth. Taeyong is addicting, you can’t push away from him even though the small voice in your head tells you to. 

He’s a criminal, someone that lives a completely different lifestyle from you and hurts others. He went against everything you were taught, he was dangerous, but you liked that.

“See, baby, I love you so much I tasted you and fucked you with my mouth.” The words sounded sexy as they left his mouth. 

“but if you want to prove that you love me, you should take me in, all of me. Do you understand why we must do this now?” Taeyong intertwines his other hand with yours, his eyes large and focused on your soft face. “Yes..”

He was surprised to feel a small pain in his cold heart after he lied to you, but he brushed it away. He wasn’t capable of providing love. He only fucked well and got people to do things for him with that manipulative mouth of his. Love was never an option. “Good.” He smiles. “Now, open your pretty mouth.” He moves his hand up and down his shaft as you hover over it, a heat growing in between your legs again as you remember what the couple on the TV did. “Do it just like she did for Father. You want to be a good girl, right?” “Yes, Taeyong.” You lick your lips and put your mouth on his tip. You do as he says. Doing your best to follow what the girl in the video does, and lower your mouth onto him, taking in as much as you can.

There’s a harsh feeling in your throat as you feel you’ve taken in all you can, but you push even further. You had to be good, you had to make him feel as good as he made you feel. You gag and take him all in, your eyes squinting at the pain in your throat. You pull your mouth off and let your spit drop back onto his tip as you choke.

When you pull away you look up at him with large eyes and ask “Like this?”, Taeyong grunts.

“Yes, just like that, think of it as those lollipops you had this week.” Taeyong smirks and pushes your head back down. “Stick your tongue out.” Taeyong demands through dark eyes. You do as he says and he guides his tip on your tongue. “Lick it, little mouse.” 

And so you do, you lick all around it and in between the small part at the top. You moved your head so your tongue can cover all bases while you place kitten licks on his veiny dick.

“Does it feel good, Taeyong, am I a good girl?” You work your tongue around the shaft as he throws his head back and holds back his loud groans. Your kitten licks drove him crazy “Yes, baby, you’re perfect, now swallow.” He looks back down at you and pushes the back of your head. You feel his dick hit the back of your throat and struggle to breathe as you bob your head up and down. “Yes, sweetheart, just like that.” You move your head up and down like the lady in the video did, drinking in Taeyong’s glorious moans. He looks down at your naked body while you gag and tears start to fall down your perfect face.

You pull away for a brief moment to breathe, and Taeyong watches as a string of spit and his pre cum fall onto your breasts and your chin. “Just a little longer, I’m almost there.” He pants. You look up at him innocently and nod before moving back down onto it. Taeyong grabs your hair and thrusts into your mouth, forcing your head down so that your lips and tongue touch every inch as he gets closer. 

You groan as your throat becomes raw and irritated at the continued attack, but the vibrations make Taeyong go crazy.

You don’t even move your head anymore as Taeyong fucks into it. Your eyes start to water, your knees grow tired on the cold, hard floor.

“Fuck” he whispers as he gets closer.

You tap his thigh to tell him you can’t breathe, but he forces himself into your mouth with one hard thrust and you feel a hot liquid coat the back of your irritated throat.

He’s still holding the back of your head so you can’t pull away and see his release. “Swallow it.”

He groans and curses as he comes in your mouth.

You’re completely ruined as your tears stain your red cheeks and your nose runs. He finally lets go of your head and watches you swallow hard.

“It hurts.” You whined as you look up at him and wipe your chin of his cum. “I know, baby, but you did so well.” He picks you up off the floor. “you were such a good girl.” He sits you on his lap and cleans your face up with the bath towel before laying you down. He zips his jeans up and turns off the TV.

“Now you know what it feels like. Doesn’t it feel good?” He asks as he wipes your face. He doesn’t lay down with you, he only sits on the side of your bed while watching you. “Can I know..what the actual thing feels like?” You look down at his pants, eager to feel him inside you.

Taeyong chuckles and his smile makes your heart shutter. His beautiful large eyes squinted. “You will, little mouse, but not today.”

He wanted to fuck you badly, make you writhe under him and beg for more. He wanted to be the first one to stretch you out and the first to cum inside your beautiful pussy, but he knew he had to wait. 

You were like a delicate, expensive toy. He couldn’t treat you like any other girl. You were pure. Little by little, he wanted to open your eyes and take out the hungry animal in you that would beg for his cock every day. He knew if he was the one to bring you to your amazing climaxes every time, you wouldn’t want anyone else, you’d only crave him. You were his, and he wasn’t going anywhere. He pulled the blanket over your naked body and rubbed your side as you fell asleep. You were tired by the new feelings and his attack on your throat, so you fell asleep quickly. “My little mouse, you’re all mine.” He got up and left the same way he came in. Oddly enough, you never asked him how he got in in the first place. ———— Another two weeks away from Taeyong, you felt a strange urge in your stomach to be with him again, to make him feel good. It’s all you thought about. You saw his perfect face and his smile whenever he called you a good girl. You felt his large hands over your body and imagined them in between your legs. You bit your lips and focused on the drive. Your parents were taking you back to college, the last thing you wanted to do was touch yourself in the backseat while they listened to a gospel album and hummed along. You pouted when you looked at your phone. Taeyong never texted you, maybe because he wanted you to come to him. But part of you was upset. You thought he got what he wanted and ditched you. He didn’t even call the next day to give you tips on how to get rid of the god awful sore throat you had. So you didn’t text him to tell him you were leaving town. Why should you? He wasn’t your boyfriend. —— Three weeks later and Taeyong kept an eye on you all the time. That night he went over to your place he put a tiny tracker in your bag. He always knew where you were and this was how he watched you. So he was shocked to see your strange location on the map when he woke up one morning. You were gone, out of the city and miles away. “Where you going little mouse?” He said to himself with a smirk. He was initially offended by you not notifying him of your leave but then he thought to himself, how wonderful this game of cat and mouse would be.

He could’ve texted you but he didn’t want you to know that he was watching. He wanted to surprise you, but first he needed to know exactly what kinda place you were in.

He went on to your social media and found a pic of you and another girl. The caption was “finally reunited with my fave.” He felt a tinge of jealousy, he thought he was your fave. He then looked at the location and saw the name of the university you were at. It was about 50 miles away so it made sense.

It was time for him to get his fix. He wanted to see you again, to feel your warm body and mouth on his again. He wanted to remind you of who you belonged to because he wouldn’t let you go that easily. He picked up his phone and dialed Johnny. “John..I’m gonna be taking a little vacation..I won’t be back for a few days. Make sure everyone keeps their shit together.” He didn’t wait for Johnny to ask questions, he hung up and gathered his things. ———— “Lets get fucked up!!” Your roommate Jessica yelled out over the music in the club while raising her shot glass. It was your first night together since summer break so you decided to have some fun at the nightclub near campus with a few of your friends. So much for good Christian morals. Everyone was drinking and dancing to the pulsating beats covered by profane language. Some kids were making out and some were talking. You missed Taeyong when you looked at the couples, you wanted to dance with him, to feel his hands all over you. “So my boyfriend and I had sex in the bathroom at Olive Garden over break!” Jessica yelled out over the music. You winced and tried to hide your displeasure at hearing the unnecessary confession. “Oh really? wow.” She had so much more experience than you did, and she knew this. While you had a strict Christian lifestyle back home, Jessica rebelled against it and did everything she wasn’t supposed to do.

She felt good when she talked about her sex life because she knew you couldn’t relate, but she didn’t know about Taeyong. You wanted to tell her how he fucked you with his tongue, but you didn’t, you’d only feel impure if you talked about it.

Luckily, your mutual friend Mark came up and disrupted the conversation before Jessica could go into the details. “Hey!! How are you guys?” Mark called out and hugged you both. You smiled widely and hugged him back, happy to see the cute dork. He pushed up his large round glasses and stuck his hands in his jeans.

Seeing him in a nightclub was strange. He was so innocent and sweet, you always felt a connection as he never had a girlfriend either and focused on church and studying. He was kind and just came back from his missionary trip in a country you forgot the name of. “I’m good! How was your summer overseas?” You asked excitedly. The three of your spoke before dancing together. Mark held your hand and spun you around in the typical flirtatious manner he always had. You two laughed and held each other, a bit tipsy from the alcohol.

You didn’t notice the pair of dark eyes that watched you from the bar. Taeyong drank you in, you wore a black body con dress that hugged your curves and had your hair messy for the first time. Your makeup was also darker than usual. You didn’t look so innocent anymore. He licked his lips and watched as you spoke to the man in front you. He was furious that the nerdy boy had touched you, hugged you. He hated the way he smiled and the way you looked at him like he was your entire world. He wanted to be the only man you looked at like that, so he knew he had to make it stop. 

His anger took over, he knew he wouldn’t give a warning. ————— Classes start and it’s been three days since anyone has seen Mark. You were the closest to him so you asked his roommates if they’d seen him but they all shook their heads. You called and texted him but didn’t get a response. That was..until a few hours later. Mark sent a text back and you quickly unlocked your phone to open it. Your mouth dropped when you saw what it was. You quickly walked to the corner of a building on campus and watched the video. It was the same one that Taeyong took, the one of you fucking yourself on the leather seat in the practice room. You close the video and call him repeatedly until he answers, furious at what he had the audacity to send you. Then you heard the ringing sound stop and a breath over the line. “Mark?” You said quietly. There was a moment of silence as you waited for him to answer. “Hello, little mouse.” The voice answers. “..what did you just call me?” Your eyes widen. “Little mouse, you left me all alone..” the deep voice trailed, sending chills up your spine. “T-Taeyong..what did you do? Where’s Mark?” “Your boyfriend’s right here!” You heard Mark’s blood curdling scream and a few loud hits and cracks. Your eyes started to water when you heard the silence. You thought of what Taeyong did to the man at the fair and panicked. “Taeyong..please, don’t do this.” You beg. “How could you cheat on me?” “Cheat? What are you talking about, he’s my friend. And wait, we’re not even dating!” “Oh, sweetheart, you’re mine, I thought I made that very clear.” “Taeyong, you never texted or called me, I’m not yours and I never will be, you’re crazy!” You yelled into the phone, but Taeyong’s haunting chuckle overtook you. “Mmm..little mouse, you’ve gotten brave now, huh? Well..if he’s not your boyfriend and I’m not your boyfriend..I guess I’ll just get rid of him and leave you alone.” “No! Leave him alone!” “Why would I do that?” “Please..Taeyong, dont hurt him, he didn’t do anything wrong..this is my fault, I’m sorry I left you without saying anything.” “And what will you do to make up for it?” Taeyong asked and you paused. You knew what he wanted and you had to give it to him to free Mark. “Fine. I’ll do..whatever you want me to, Taeyong, just leave him alone please.” “I want you to live with me. I can’t breathe without you, little mouse. I need to feel you near me..if you’re too far away, I’m not sure what I’ll do..who I’ll hurt.” He was blackmailing you but what could you do? You had already gone too far. “I-I can’t do that...your life is completely different from my own...and you’re a gang—“ “Then say goodbye to Mark.” “No!” You started but Taeyong already hung up the phone. You hurriedly called the cops and tell them that someone called you from Mark’s phone. You delete the video but showed them the call. 

You didn’t tell them who it was you spoke with, you simply said a strange man answered, but you hoped they would be able to track his phone and find Mark. You didn’t want to explicitly say it was Taeyong. But the information you gave them wasn’t enough, so they left and said they’d put out a missing persons report. When you got back to your dorm, you called Taeyong several times, he didn’t answer so you texted Taeyong after he declined them.

Taeyong knew you called the police because he watched the activity on your phone and heard your conversation. Taeyong used your phone number and gave it to his gang’s hacker, Taeil, so he knew who you called and who you texted after Taeil created a duplicate SIM card. He knew you didn’t tell the cops about him and smiled, thinking of how you protected him because you loved him. To Taeyong: please don’t hurt Mark, I take it back, I’ll live with you The guilt was eating away at your heart, you were terrified of what he’d do. Taeyong could’ve just given in and swooped you up that night, but he wanted to make himself clear, he’d hurt anyone that touched you. ———— You didn’t sleep that night.. you got up to go to class but walked by a crowd you saw gathering around the large cross that was seated in the center of campus. Some students turned away and cried, some students put their hands over their mouths. You finally looked up and saw what they did. It was Mark. Bloodied and bruised and tied to the large campus cross to turn it into a crucifix. He was nearly unrecognizable, it was his large round glasses and his favorite watermelon t-shirt that told you it was him. Your eyes started to tear up, your head started to spin, you knew who had done this and you couldn’t breathe. You looked away from Mark’s body as he barely breathed through a swollen lip. Both eyes were black and his hands and feet were swollen from the blood that had collected while he was tied there for what seemed to be hours. 

You ran away and cried, unable to breathe. You brushed past campus medical and ran to a corner, where you bent over and screamed. How could he do this to one of your closest friends? Mark didn’t do anything, he was someone that was close to you and now Taeyong had hurt him, who knew what internal damage had been done. Mark only did great things for his community, unlike Taeyong who hurt everyone. And when you finally stopped crying, You were furious. You opened your phone and found Taeyong’s number. You knew you shouldn’t have cursed or wished ill on anyone, it’s not why you were taught, but you were just so mad. To Taeyong: fuck you. You closed the text box and blocked his phone number. You didn’t know that this infuriated and intrigued Taeyong. You weren’t his innocent little girl anymore, and while part of him was a bit hurt, he was more turned on by your sassiness. 

He had no regrets for what he did to Mark, he only craved you more when you pushed yourself away from him because he knew that in the end, he’d get you, he’d have you under him, begging for him, loving him and no one else, for forever. Even if that meant hurting or killing everyone close to you. You sat in your room, locked your door and cried. You cursed yourself for not telling the cops about Taeyong. Why were you trying to protect him in the first place? Telling them about him now wouldn’t have made any sense. You had no idea where Taeyong was. They wouldn’t find him, you’d only waste their time again. You couldn’t talk to anyone about Taeyong, they’d say your crazy for letting it get this far. You held your face and thought of what to do, who could keep your information confidential? And then it clicked. You needed to go to the one place that always brought you peace when you had a lot on your mind. ———— Later that day, you went to the campus church, a large and ancient building with incredible high arches and velvet covered benches. You still cried softly as you kneeled in between the benches and prayed for a few minutes. You then went into the confessional box to speak with the priest. You sat on the small bench, resting your back against the walls and exhaling heavily. You couldn’t get the picture of Mark’s messed up face and body out of your mind. “Father..there’s a lot on my mind and my heart.” “Go on, my child.” “I put..my friends safety in great risk.” The tears started to come again as you choked up. “And now, he’s hurt..real bad.. and I know who hurt him..” You paused. “But I don’t know what to do Father..I think I love the man who hurt him, but I don’t know why..and now I can’t even face my friend who is in so much pain because of me.” You sniffled and wiped your eyes. “I’m a coward, father, please forgive me.. I’ve been lustful and ignorant..I’ve put myself before others.” You took in a deep breath and closed your eyes. “Father, I don’t even know if I deserve forgiveness.” “My child..of course you deserve forgiveness. That’s why you are here..you’ve acknowledged your mistakes and now you can learn from them.”

His voice sounded weird, unnatural, but you didn’t question it. “This man..that you love..have you asked for his forgiveness?” Your eyes opened and your brows furrowed. “No, Father, he’s the reason why my friend is hurt, why should I ask for his forgiveness?” “But you’re the one who left him and drove him to violence..it could’ve been prevented if you just did what he asked, if you just went to him and loved him.” You raised your head and your mouth dropped. “I’m-I’m sorry Father, I’m not following.” There was a moment of silence, just the sound of your breathing filled the small booth. “Little mouse, when will you learn?” Taeyong’s voice spoke out from the box, the fake voice you had heard before disappearing. You jumped up and opened the door of the box to run out but Taeyong beat you to it and pushed you back inside. You fell onto the small bench before standing up and trying to push past Taeyong, you opened your mouth to scream but Taeyong quickly put a hand over your mouth while closing the door.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, keeping anyone else in the church from hearing anything. “Did you really think you could run away and block me?” “Why would you run away from the one that loves you the most?” Taeyong looked somber, genuinely hurt that you stayed away from him. He took his hand from your mouth when your eyes softened.

You breathed heavily. “How could you hurt my friend? I told you I’d do anything you wanted me to?” You cried as you remembered Mark’s bloody face. “I had to let everyone know that you’re mine, sweetheart, don’t you understand?” You shook your head and cried while he head your chin and stepped closer to you. “You’re crazy.” “No, little mouse, this is how people show their love for one another. Sacrifices have to be made for the betterment of the relationship.” You sniffled and you listened to the handsome man above you. “I hurt him..because he touched you, he tainted you that night at the club and I couldn’t stand it because I love you!” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him, unaware that he was at the club that night. “He’s my friend! We were having fun!” Your voice raised. He only smiled and ran his long fingers along the side of your face.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but please understand me...do you forgive me?” He leaned down and placed soft kisses on your neck. 

He held your head, softly tugging your head back so he could kiss your collar bone. “Don’t you remember when I made you feel good?” His low voice spoke against your soft skin.

You whined quietly and leaned into him, you didn’t want him to stop. Your mind told you this was bad, but your body was saying something else.

“Yes.” “I can do that again..but only if you forgive me, do you?” Something about Taeyong was so intoxicating. His hot breath on your lips made you weak, he clouded your mind again and you no longer saw Mark’s bloody face. 

You nodded without thinking it through. “Yes.” He pulled back and smiled. Something about his dark eyes in the dimly lit booth made him look dangerously handsome. 

“Good..now I have to forgive you for leaving me...how will you gain my forgiveness? What will you do for me, little mouse?” You looked up at him questioningly.

His lips were just centimeters away from yours, you wanted to feel them again.

“I-I’ll do anything.” You let out as you struggled to focus on forming complete sentences. His closeness was driving you crazy in the small booth. 

The warmth of his body on yours and his touch made you want more. He gave you a wicked smile. “my sweet girl, there is one thing that has been on my mind.. but only if you’re ready can we do it.” You nodded, already knowing what he was referring to. You wanted it too and his closeness to you only brought out the craving you had weeks ago the last time you were together. “I’m ready.” Taeyong smiled and kissed your neck while he ran a hand up your thigh. He sucked hard to leave a colorful mark on your perfect skin. Your head fell back against the wall behind you and you pushed your body closer to his, feeling his bulge through his jeans. You moaned quietly when he placed his finger tips over your underwear, pushing the outward frills of your plaid skirt up so he could hold your skin. “Taeyong—what if someone walks in?” You breathily let out. He rolled hips into yours with his head still buried in the crook of your neck. “They’ll see how good I make you feel, baby. Now, put your legs around my waist.” Taeyong our two hands in your butt and lifted you up so that your legs wrapped around him. He pinned you to the wall to keep you up. He loved seeing you like this in your plaid skirt, white dress shirt, knee highs and pink bow tie. You’re an innocent girl ready to be fucked in the confessional booth in a church, and that drove him wild. “Unbutton your shirt, sweetheart.” His mouth watered as he pulled away and looked at you. His low eyes watching you breathe heavily. You did as he said while he hurriedly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his boxers down. His dick sprung up out of the restricted clothing and hit your thigh. He lowered his head back to your boobs and suck the top. “Taeyong—“ You breathily moaned his name as you felt his wet, tongue on your skin and felt his stiff member on your thigh so close to your throbbing entrance. You heard the people in the church move about like they would on any other day. They had no idea that you we’re committing a sin within the walls of the house of God.

It felt wrong, but it felt good. Taeyong pushes your bra down and your boobs spill out to reveal your hard nipples.

He sucks them, licking and pinching them lightly whisk you cry out his name. “Tell me what you want, do you like that?” He let out in a sultry voice, making you whimper and close your eyes. You felt your legs start to waver as your heat grew. “Yes, Taeyong, please.” You begged and ran a hand through his hair. He backs away slightly and holds his cock, he smirks while he watches your low eyes and parted lips. He knew you’d be begging for this and it turned him on even more. He uses his other hand to push your panties aside then rubs his tip on your clit and along your folds. You moan loudly and hold his shoulder, the feeling making you twitch under him. “Tell me how bad you want it.” Taeyong whispered into your ear, still rubbing his length along your wet opening. He takes a nipple into your mouth again. “Please..Taeyong.” You run a hand down his back to pull him closer to you. “Say it, little mouse. What do you want me to do?” He’s pushing you to the point of begging and you didn’t care. “Please, Taeyong, please fuck me.” That’s all he needed to hear. He pushed into you slowly. He knows it’s your first time so you’re tight. He watches you and waits for you to get used to the new feeling. You cry out at the pain and close your eyes. When you feel like you’ve finally adjusted you nod, and he pushes into you again, this time he rubs your clit. “Relax, sweetheart, you’re doing so well.” “Oh.my God.” You feel tears run down your cheek as he stretches you out and pushes even further into your body, driving you up the wall. He holds your waist to keep your firm against him. He groans and looks down at your small pussy stretching around him.

“Fuck, so tight, baby.” He lets out then watches as he pulls out, his thumb still rubbing circles. You wince as he pushes back in and breathe heavily. “Good girl.” He kisses your lips as he starts to move in and out of you slowly. He pushed into you deep every time and almost pulls out completely. Your dig into his back through his thin t shirt with your nails as he drives your body up the wall of the confessional. Something about the fact that you, the daughter of a pastor, was being fucked in a church by the man they called the grim reaper pushed you further to your climax. It was all so hot. He moves faster as you get even more wet, allowing him to slip in and out easily. Your head falls back and your mouth opens as your moans get louder.You ran your hands along his toned arms as he kisses your neck sloppily. “Taeyong!” You call out his name as the lewd sounds of him pounding into your wet entrance grows and your hand moves faster. You close your legs tightly around his waist. He puts a hand over your mouth to stop your moans as he hits your g spot repeatedly. He nearly goes crazy himself with the feeling of your tight, velvety walls clenching around him. You felt so good around him, it was even better than he had dreamed of. And now hearing your high pitched moans as you sinned for him, drove him to the edge. He kissed your neck and pushed into you hard while still covering your wet mouth with his hand.

Your boobs jumped up and down as he fucked you against the wall. His back was covered in scratch marks as you finally released onto him.

Your body shook while he still pushed into you hard. Your muffled cries quieted down and he kept moving but he let go of your mouth and watched it fall open. The sight of your drooling for him and making quiet, mousy sounds as he fucked you silly, made him realize he was about to cum. He pulled out of quickly and you slid down the wall and onto the small bench. You looked up at him through wet eyes while he pumped his cum out of his long dick. “Open wide.” You opened your mouth and watched as the long strings of cum left his dick and entered your mouth. He moved his hand all over it and made sure that your mouth was covered in his essence. He grunted as some leaked out and coated your chin. He tapped his tip on your tongue while getting out the last amount. You licked it before he pulled away. “Swallow.” You swallowed and closed your eyes, still focused on the feeling of losing your virginity. Taeyong held your hand after zipping his jeans up and cleaning your chin with his thumb. “I love you..don’t ever leave me again.” He held your head in his hand and pulled you in for a kiss. You kissed him back, feeling your sensitive body tremble while he touched you softly. You felt good, so good as the post-sex buzz roared through your body. You wanted to be with him forever and to feel him again and again. But why did you feel like something bad was bound to happen?

[fanmoose12]

Sitting in the damp and cold cell, staring at a small glimpse of moon, visible from a tiny window up above her, Hange had no regrets. She held no blame towards the people of her own village, and she was not angry with them. She knew that they were ignorant and afraid, and it was their fear that led them to such cruelty.

In the end, if Hange was granted another chance in her life, she would have done it all again. Although, sitting there, reflecting on her life, she realized she wasn’t completely honest with herself. There was one thing she regretted – she didn’t get to see Levi one last time.

Hange quietly chuckled as she remembered the first time she met Levi. It was such a long time ago, she felt as though it happened in another life. But still, a wistful smile appeared on her lips, as she thought of her adorable demon friend.

Hange was strolling through the village’s market, desperately trying to find a merchant, who wouldn’t be afraid to look her in the eyes and who would agree to sell her some vegetables. Her own crops this year were less than satisfactory, as Hange had ignored them for most of the season, too preoccupied with the books she brought from her trip to the capital.

Hange groaned, as another merchant closed his stall right in front of her face. What was wrong with those people? So what, if Hange lived on the outskirts of the village, led a mostly solitary life and she was probably the only member of this community, who could read? It didn’t mean they had to be afraid of her. After all, she was nothing but kind to them, always trying to help and doing her best to cure any illnesses the villagers had possessed. And they let her help, but just as soon as they were healthy again, they turned their back on her once more, calling her a heretic and a witch.

It hurt Hange, but she tried not to show it. She understood, why they were like this, and she knew there was nothing she could to change their attitude towards her. Their hatred was rooted in years of living in poverty and fear, and they needed someone to blame. Their king was far away, and they couldn’t possibly hold any grudges towards God, so Hange had to suffer. And she was okay with it, most of the time, but still she wished they could at least sell to her some vegetables and meat. It wasn’t like she couldn’t pay them!

Hange leaned against a tree, wiping sweat from her face and lowering her basket. It was a rather hot day, and she was getting tired of mindlessly walking through the village, hoping that at least one merchant would be kind enough to sell her their goods. Or greedy enough, it wasn’t like Hange was picky.

A pair of children, playing on the other side of a street, attracted Hange’s attention. She looked at them more closely, squinting her eyes. Her eyesight was quite poor and one lens of her glasses was broken, but with her crops dying, Hange didn’t have the time to ride to the town and order a new pair. But another lens was in good condition, and as long as it helped her see, she didn’t mind that the other part was damaged.

The kids were discussing something in hushed tones, and, curious, Hange took a few steps closer, so she could hear what they were talking about.

“My pop just returned from his hunt,” one of the boys began. He was clearly the leader of their group, as the other children watched him intently, hanging onto his every word.

“Did he meet the werewolf again?” the girl asked, her voice a mixture of fear and excitement.

The boy shook his head. “Nah, it was something scarier this time. He said that he happened upon a big dark mansion, hidden in the woods,” the children around him gasped. Satisfied by their reaction, the boy smirked and continued. “Pop says that a demon is living here. He says he saw him – he was tall and had big pointy horns. He probably would have killed my dad, if he didn’t run away.”

Hange smiled, as she watched how children’s eyes widened in shock. However, she was also intrigued by the boy’s tale. She knew that werewolves and vampires weren’t real, they were just scary stories, made to frighten children and discourage young women from venturing through the forests at night, but demons? Of course, Hange had heard about them and she read books about them, but were they real? She couldn’t say.

With a wide, excited grin on her face, Hange turned around and headed back to her small hut. The groceries could wait, when there was a new discovery, waiting for her in a dark, dense forest.

 ***

As Hange moved through the forest, she barely managed to hide her excitement. She walked with a slight pounce to her step and she restricted herself from running, but only because she was trying to save up her energy. She didn’t know the exact location of the demon’s house after all, and she didn’t want to get lost in the woods. She didn’t dare to ask those children the whereabouts of a demon, and even if she did, she was sure they wouldn’t answer her. And they could tell their parents about her question, and if the villagers found out that she was curious about a demon, Hange would surely get called a witch and then she would never be able to buy anything in the market.  

And that was not something she was looking for, that’s for sure.

But even without outside assistance, soon Hange walked out to the clearing and saw a dark, big mansion. She wasted no time and swiftly ran up to it, squealing with joy, when the door turned out to be unlocked.

Hange threw the door open, took a step inside, and in the next moment she felt a strong, clawed hand circle around her neck, as her body was roughly pushed into the wall.

“Who are you?” someone hissed right in Hange’s face.

Hange blinked a few times and then squinted, trying to see her attacker in the darkness. But she saw no one, except a pair of bright blue eyes, which were staring quite angrily at her.

“I…I’m Hange!” she chuckled nervously. The hand around her throat was holding her rather tightly. “I live in the village near the woods!”

“You live in that village? So you must know about me, you must know who I am, right?” Hange cocked her head to the side, giving a figure in front of her another critical look. She still couldn’t see its shape, but the voice sounded almost human, although it was slightly tinted with something else, some echo, that reminded Hange of her books about dark magic. Could this creature be real? Was it an actual demon?

Hange must have ignored him for too long, because suddenly her neck was gripped tighter. “Yes, yes, I know who you are!” she answered immediately. She flailed her hands around, she knew she couldn’t possibly fight the creature in front of her, but Hange wanted to touch him, wanted to see if the rest of his body was as solid as the hand around her neck. To her surprise, her fingers came in contact with something sturdy, which almost felt like a horn… The creature instantly let go of her and took a few steps away.

“Don’t touch me, human!” he hissed.

“Alright, alright!” Hange raised her hands in a placating gesture. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to!” So, it didn’t like to be touched, huh? Hange wondered if that was a demon thing or it was just a part of its personality. For some reason, she heavily suspected the later.

“So you’re actually a demon, huh?” Hange chuckled, looking at the blue eyes in front of her with excitement and curiosity.

“You do know what I am! Then why aren’t you screaming in fear? Why haven’t you run away?”

Hange shrugged. “I’m not afraid of you. Actually, I came here to seek you out.”

“I’m not making pacts with humans,” the demon answered her with audible distain.

“No, no, it’s not about that! I just wanted to get to know you! I’ve never actually met demons, and I was just curious if you were real. Besides, you live here all alone in that big mansion, don’t you get lonely?”

“Lonely?” the demon repeated in a quiet, disbelieving voice. His eyes stared at Hange, like she was crazy.

“Yeah, lonely!” she eagerly nodded. “I just thought that, well, you live alone, and I also live alone, then maybe, well, maybe we could become friends?”

“Friends? You want become friends? With a demon?”

“Yep,” Hange grinned.

“You’re insane,” the demon huffed.

“Oi, come on! It won’t be so bad, I’ll just come here every once in a while, chat with you for some time. It’ll be fun, you’ll love it, I promise!”

The demon sighed. “Why do I get a feeling that I don’t get to say no in this situation?”

“Oh, I didn’t know that demons can see future.”

“Tch,” the demon clicked his tongue. “Smartass.”

Sighing once more, the demon turned around and snapped his fingers. The darkness disappeared and Hange gasped, as the room became illuminated by a warm candlelight. She looked at the demon’s figure and she was surprised to see that it looked so much like a man. He was dressed like a man, too, and, looking at his rich dark blue suit, Hange felt slightly out of a place with her dirty, torn shirt and worn pants. But that feeling was quickly forgotten, as she continued to study her new friend. The boy back at the village obviously lied about the demon’s appearance. He wasn’t tall at all, and was probably shorter than Hange. She also couldn’t see the horns on his head, and Hange wondered if she had imagined touching them.

“Well, are you coming?” the demon asked, turning around and crossing hands on his chest, scowling at Hange. “Or are you going to keep staring at me?”

“I’m sorry!” Hange ran up to him, following the demon into the next room. “I’m just very curious about your nature, that’s all.”

“Tch, I’m not some animal on display at a town’s market. So quit looking at me like that, or I’ll kill you,” the demon promised her darkly.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it!” Hange plopped down into an armchair. The demon obviously led her to his living room.

“So what do we do now?” the demon took a sit opposite from Hange, and was now regarding her with irritated eyes.

“Well, I ask you some questions, and you ask me in return,” Hange shrugged. “We get to know each other.”

“Alright…” the demon said warily. “What is your question?”

“Well, you haven’t told me your name yet, so let’s start with that, yeah?”

“Demon’s name is a sacred thing. I’m not going to tell it to some stranger.”

“But I’m not a stranger, I’m your friend!” Hange grinned. “Besides, it’s not like I’m going to tell it to anyone. You can trust me.”

The demon looked at her skeptically for a long moment. “It’s Levi,” he whispered finally, turning his head away from Hange’s curious eyes.

“Levi!” she exclaimed. “I like it, it fits you.”

“It’s my name, of course, it fits me, moron.”

“Alright, alright,” Hange chuckled. “Now it’s time for your question.”

“What is that shit on your face?” Levi pointed a finger at her and scrunched his face in disgust.

Hange was baffled by his question. Did Levi mean the dirt on her face, or—

“Not the actual shit,” Levi clarified, seeing Hange’s confused expression. “That thing on your eyes, what is that?”

“Oh, that’s my glasses!” Hange took them off and handed them to Levi. “Everything is blurry, when I’m not wearing them,” she explained.

“So you need them to see?” Levi asked, looking at object in his hands from all angles.

“Yeah, can’t do much without them.”

“Huh,” Levi hummed thoughtfully. “And are they supposed to be like this?” he pointed at the crack in one of the lenses.

“Haha, no,” Hange giggled. “I just fell from a ladder one day and accidentally broke them.”

Levi said nothing, just closed his eyes, his right hand hovering above the damaged lens. Hange’s eyes widened, when Levi’s hand suddenly started to glow. However, she didn’t get the chance to study it more closely, as the light disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

“Here,” Levi handed her glasses back. “I don’t know if it helped, but…”

Hange put the glasses back on her face and gasped. She could see so clearly now! “Levi, thank you!” she smiled brightly. “Now they are as good as new!”

“And they don’t look so stupid anymore,” Levi agreed.

Hange opened her mouth to say something, but whatever she was going to ask Levi was interrupted by her wide yawn. “Sorry,” she covered her mouth with a giggle. “Maybe, it’s time I head home. It seems I’m a bit tired.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Levi nodded, getting up from his seat.

“I’ll come back in a few days,” Hange said, when Levi led her out to the front door. “If t-that’s alright with you, of course!”

Levi sighed. “Again, I don’t think I have a choice. Just… wash your clothes and your hair before visiting me. It honestly looks disgusting.”

“Roger that!” Hange agreed with a chuckle.

She bid Levi goodbye and started her way home. As she moved through the forest, there was a happy smile on her face.

She wasn’t alone anymore.              

 ***

“Levi, don’t you have horns?” Hange asked, as she was sitting beside him on the sofa. She knew Levi for a couple of months now, and she was confident they were close friends, even if Levi fiercely denied it every time Hange had brought it up.

But in all that time she knew Levi, Hange had never seen his horns. Levi gave her a lot of books about demonology, and he patiently explained everything Hange was curious about and even helped her translate the texts, which were written in a language she didn’t know. There weren’t a lot of actual images of demons in those books, but a couple of pictures Hange had seen, always showed demons with big, black horns. But as far as she knew, Levi didn’t have any. She remembered touching them during their first meeting, but she wasn’t sure if she hadn’t imagined it all.

“Every demon has them, stupid,” Levi huffed. “And I do, too.”

“You’ve never shown me!” Hange grabbed Levi’s shoulder, getting close to his face and looking him straight in the eyes. “Why?”

Levi turned away, crossing hands on his chest. “Don’t want to,” he grumbled quietly.

“But why?” Hange cried out. “Do you still not trust me?”

“It’s not that,” Levi clicked his tongue in annoyance. “It’s just… well, they appear only when I’m in my demon form. And I don’t want you to see it.”

“Why not?” Hange wasn’t giving up.

“It’s different from my human form. I look… I look different. You may not like it.”

“Levi,” Hange grabbed his chin to make him look at her. When their eyes met, she smiled warmly. “You’re my friend, and I want to know what you look like. I promise, no matter how ugly you look, I won’t be scared of you.”

Levi rolled his eyes, his posture relaxing under Hange’s gaze. “You’re stubborn as a bull, Hange, has anyone ever told you?”

Hange laughed. “You always do.”

“Alright,” Levi shook his head, getting up from his seat. “I’ll show you my demon form, just… don’t freak out, okay?”

Hange gave him an encouraging smile. “You know it’s not that easy to scare me, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Levi grumbled. “You’re crazy, but still, don’t panic. Just remember that I won’t hurt you, under any circumstances.”

Hange nodded. “I trust you.”

Levi ran a shaking hand through his hair and stood in the center of room. He muttered something under his breath, and a bright white light illuminated the room. Hange closed her eyes to shield them, and when she opened them again, Levi’s familiar figure disappeared. The creature in front of Hange was still as short as Levi, but it was hard to call him human. Behind his back was a pair of black wings and on top of his head were two large horns. But the most impressing thing about his appearance was his eyes. They were brighter than usual, and Hange remembered that she had seen the same intense blue color, when she met Levi for the first time.

“Oh,” Hange breathed out in wonder. She slowly got to her feet and took a few steps closer, until she stood right next to Levi. “Can I?” she asked, her hand hovering above his wing.

Levi nodded slightly, his eyes following her every move.

Hange tentatively laid her hand on Levi’s wing, gently caressing thick black feathers. Then she moved to his head, touching his horns. They were smaller, than Hange expected, and curled at the end. She giggled as her hand traced it along the length.

“They remind me of goat’s.”

“Tch,” Levi waved Hange’s hand away, taking a step away from her. “So you’re really not weirded out? Not disgusted by my appearance?”

“Levi,” Hange smiled gently, taking his clawed hand in hers and laying her head on his shoulder. Levi’s wing instinctively wrapped itself around her. “You can look like a giant hairy beast, or some kind of serpent with horrible tentacles, and I still won’t be scared of you. No matter what you look like, I know that you have kind and caring soul. You’re my friend, Levi, and nothing will change that.”

Levi was evidently at a loss of words, as he kept staring at Hange with hopeless, stricken expression.

“C’mon,” she tugged at his arm. “Let’s go to the library. The lighting there is better, and I can take a closer look at your form.”

“Weirdo,” Levi huffed, but followed after Hange without further complaint.

 ***

“For fuck’s sake, Hange!” Levi was at her side as soon as Hange passed his threshold. He instantly began taking off her wet cloak. “There is a fucking storm outside, why did you come here?”

“But Levi!” Hange pouted. “I haven’t visited you for two days already! I missed you!”

“Idiot,” Levi scoffed, but Hange didn’t miss the softness in his voice. “C’mon,” taking her hand, he started leading her upstairs. “Go and change your wet clothes, and I’ll make some tea in the meanwhile.”

When Hange joined Levi in the living room, already dressed in his clothes, Levi wore a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Did something happen?” Hange asked, coming to sit next to him and laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Hange,” Levi sighed. “I think you sh—”

“Oh, no,” Hange interrupted him. “I know where this is going. You’re going to once again ask me to start living with you?”

Levi glared at her. “Yes, and I still don’t understand why you refuse. I can’t understand why you insist on living in that wretched thing you call a house, surrounded by those fools, who hate you!”

“Levi…” Hange ran a hand through her hair. “This is my home, I’ve lived here all my life. I can’t just abandon it.”

“This place can be your home. You can live here, with me. Don’t you want this?”

Hange shrugged, letting out a small laugh. “I don’t know. What about my crops? I can’t possibly leave all my books behind, and what is going to happen to Philip, if I come to live here?”

Philip was Hange’s black cat, and for a long time he was her best and only friend. He was an adorable little thing, who came to nuzzle to Hange’s chest every time she was sitting down. Philip was always so affectionate with her, Hange had never seen him hissing or using his claws to hurt anyone. Until she introduced Philip to Levi. The cat’s pupils delated the moment he laid his eyes on Levi. He bended down slightly, and that all warning Hange and Levi got, before Philip jumped right at Levi with a vicious hiss, his claws aimed at his face.

Thankfully, Levi was able to dodge that attack, but he swore to never again put his foot in Hange’s house, as long as her insane cat was there.

Levi rolled his eyes, flicking Hange’s forehead. “Your crops are a fucking mess, Hange, and you can always take your stupid books with you. And… that thing can come live with you, too.”

“Are you talking about Philip?” Hange’s eyes widened. “You will actually let him into your house?”

Levi sighed. “If it means that you will leave that dirty shack, then yes, that infernal beast can live in my house.”

“Levi!” Hange hugged him to her chest. “Thank you! You are the kindest demon I know!”

Levi narrowed his eyes. “Do you know some other demons?”

Hange smiled slyly. “And what if I did?”

Levi shrugged. “Nothing. I’d just have to kill them, that’s all.”

“Levi!” Hange punched his arm. “You can’t just say things like that!”

“What? I’m serious. Those are demon rules, Hange. I can’t let another demon close to my human.”

Hange crossed her hands on her chest, pouting at him. “I can’t understand if you’re joking or not. Besides, I’m not your human.”

“I know that,” Levi agreed. “But most demons don’t know what a friend is. We live a solitary life. Some demons can find a human to… entertain themselves, and when they do, those humans become ‘theirs’,” Levi’s eyes filled with distain. “They do not care much for those humans, but they’re pretty territorial about them. Demons are territorial about everything,” he spat out. “They act like mindless beasts, but think they’re better than humans. I hate other demons, that’s why I left the Underground.”

“But you’re different from other demons,” Hange said, laying her head on Levi’s shoulder and gazing softly at him.

“And you are different from other humans,” Levi replied in an unusually warm voice.

“Alright,” Hange sighed. “I’ll go back to my house to get all my belongings, and then I come here the next evening? To stay with you?”

“We don’t have to live here,” Levi told her. “Paris, Rome, Cairo… whatever city or place you want.”

“Nah,” Hange shook her head with a smile. “I don’t care where to live, as long as I’m with you.”

“Let’s go then,” Levi took her by the hand and helped Hange get to her feet. “I’ll walk you home.”

Whenever Levi walked with Hange through the forest, he always kept her close. He held her hand or hugged her shoulders and watched her every step. Hange honestly couldn’t understand, why Levi was so careful and what he was afraid of, but she found his overprotectiveness to be very sweet and adorable.

“I’ll walk the rest of the way by myself,” Hange gently freed her hand out of Levi’s grasp. Usually Levi and she said their goodbye at her doorstep, but Hange could see that there was some kind of commotion in the village. It was brightly lit as though by a fire and she could hear shouting. Was there some kind of a festival tonight?

Either way, she was afraid that someone might see Levi, and even if he was in his human form, it still would raise unwanted question. And Hange’s reputation in the village was bad enough without it.

When Hange let go of his hand, Levi’s eyebrows furrowed for a second. But then he composed himself and nodded. “But you’ll come back tomorrow, right?”

“Of course,” Hange smiled. “As soon as I gather everything I need.”

“Good,” Levi leaned in and gave Hange a small peck on her lips. “I’ll be waiting,” he added, before disappearing into the woods.

Hange stayed there for a little longer, staring at the place, where Levi had just been. It was just a kiss, and a brief one at that, but it made her feel all fuzzy inside. She could feel her cheeks burn, and her chest filled with warm, pleasant sensation.  

She couldn’t wait to see Levi again, and she couldn’t believe that he asked her to abandon her home and make a new one with him. Could it be that she wouldn’t be alone anymore? Could it be that she would finally be happy?

However, as Hange began to approach her own house, all of her giddy feelings disappeared. Something was very, very wrong, she could feel it.

And as Hange walked out of the forest and reached the village, she realized that she was mistaken. There wasn’t any festival in the village, no, instead her house, her own home, in which she spent her whole life, had been burnt to the ground.

Hange shrieked in horror and tried to run inside. There was so much books and plants inside, and, oh god, Philip, did he manage to escape? Hange had to enter, she had to at least try to salvage something, but as soon as she got close to the house, her shoulders were roughly grabbed.

Hange turned her face up and her eyes widened, as she saw the people of her village staring back at her, their expressions cruel and triumphant.

“So the witch has finally returned!” one of the woman took a step forward, taking Hange by the hair, making her look right in her eyes. “What have you been doing in the forest at night, huh, witch? Were you summoning a demon? Or were you meeting with others from your kind?”

Hange stared helplessly at that woman and the rest of the angry crowd behind her. She knew all of them. The woman, who stood on the left, - she helped her deliver a baby. And the man in center - Hange brought him home, when he had broken his leg. The woman, who was standing above her, still holding her by the hair - Hange had given her son syrup to cure him from a severe case of coughing fits.

“I don’t understand,” Hange murmured, her eyes filling with angry tears. What had she done to deserve such ire? What had she done to earn their hatred?

“You’re a witch! Don’t try to deny it!” the woman shouted.

“We have found this, your wretched woman,” a man stepped out, holding a book to Hange’s face. She recognized it immediately. It was a demonology book Levi had given her. She had probably left it on a porch or on a bench near her house, and some curious kid or a noisy housewife had found it, while Hange was visiting Levi.

“And what is my punishment going to be?” she asked, her voice defeated. She knew it was pointless to further argue and protest. Those people wouldn’t listen, and even if they did, what Hange could say? How can she redeem herself? Tell those people that she wasn’t trying to practice any magic, that she was just reading this book to get a better understanding of her demon friend’s nature? Yeah, that would surely not soften their anger. Besides, she wouldn’t scoop so low as to lie and beg. If this was the end for her, then she would meet it with dignity and without an ounce of fear.

“You’re lucky, witch,” the woman in front of Hange sneered. “I would have locked you inside your own house and burned you there alive, but the people of this village are kind and merciful. They decided to give you a fair trial, to give your sinful soul a chance to cleanse yourself.”

“And then you will burn me at a stake, right?” Hange scoffed.

“Your punishment will be decided by a just and honest trial,” the woman repeated with righteous fire in her eyes.

She and the rest of the crowd didn’t give Hange a chance to answer, as she was yanked to her feet and then dragged to the village’s jail.

They threw her into a cell, and it was there, where Hange had spent her last night on this Earth. The trial was to begin the next day, and so she just sat there, staring at the moon and remembering all the happy moments of her life.

The priest came in the morning, just before a trial was about to begin. He said he came to hear out Hange’s confession, to forgive her for her sins.

Hange wanted to laugh in his face.

“Please, explain it to me, father,” she began, sitting as comfortably as she could with her hands chained to the wall. “You always say that God is merciful and forgiving, that He is righteous and just, but why is He doing this to me? Why is He punishing me, if I have never done any harm to the people of this village? I’ve always tried to help them, I’ve done my best to care for them, but they have been nothing but spiteful and cruel to me. How can they be such good Christians, if they hate me just because I’m different? Is that’s how God had made them to be?”

The priest was obviously taken aback by Hange’s speech. His eyes widened and his hands, which held Bible, were trembling slightly. But he quickly composed himself, straightening his shoulders and putting a stern expression on his wrinkled face.

“You have sinned, my child. You have turned to dark creatures and magic. The people of this village are not guilty of your downfall, those sins are yours alone. And God cannot forgive you for them.”

“You are right, father,” Hange glared fiercely at him. “I have sinned. I’ve been meeting with a demon. I’ve befriended him, I’ve fallen in love with him. And he had been kinder and more caring with me, than all the people in this village.”

The priest shook his head. “Your sins are much worse than I thought. But there is still some hope for you, my child. Ask God for His forgiveness, renounce your bonds with that monster, and your soul will be saved. You can still go to Heaven and spend your eternity in bliss.”

“I would rather rot in deepest pits of Hell,” Hange spat. “Than spend an eternity with the likes of you.”

“I see there is no salvation for your soul,” the priest nodded, as though Hange’s fate had been decided. “But I’ll keep you in my prayers, child.”

“Just leave me alone already,” Hange sighed tiredly.

“Your trial will begin in an hour,” Holy Father said and then walked out of her cell.

The trial, just as Hange had expected, was a complete farce. The villagers tested against her, each of them telling how they always suspected that she had been a witch. How all the times she had helped them proved that she was practicing magic.

Hange didn’t even bother to listen to them. She knew her punishment already, long before the judge and the jury announced it.

She was to be burnt at a stake this night. Hange accepted her sentence with a surprising amount of calmness. And to think that just yesterday she was excited to start a new life with Levi, but now it seemed that her life was ending.

 ***

Levi stood on his porch, tapping his leg impatiently and staring into the forest. What the fuck was taking Hange so long? She promised to come as soon, as she finished packing. How many belongings did she have?

As he waited for her hour after hour, unpleasant thoughts began to plague Levi’s mind. Could it be… could it be that Hange has changed her mind? Maybe, she had decided that a life with a demon wasn’t for her? Had she finally realized what a monster Levi was? Or maybe… maybe he had made her uncomfortable last night? Maybe his kiss had made her feel uneasy?

Honestly, Levi didn’t know what had possessed him to kiss Hange last night. He just felt like he should do it, it felt right and natural. And Levi… Levi couldn’t resist.

It seemed like he could never resist himself, when it came to Hange. From the first moment that he had seen her, Levi couldn’t stay away. He tried to, knew that it was wrong, demons and humans didn’t belong together, but Hange… She made him feel like he had never felt before. She made him happy, with Hange Levi felt like he belonged somewhere, like he belonged with someone.

He wanted to always be with her.

But it seemed like Hange didn’t feel the same way about him.

Levi’s solemn thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of rustling leaves. His head snapped to its source, and Levi’s heart swelled when he saw Hange’s cat, Philip, walking out of the woods.

However… Hange didn’t follow after him.

Levi quickly approached the cat and took another look at him. Now that he was standing right beside him, Levi saw that Philip was covered in grime and the tip of his left was burnt. Levi’s blood ran cold. What had happened to Hange’s cat? What had happened to her?

Levi crouched down to the cat and tentatively laid his hand on his dark fur. Using his demonic powers, he searched the cat’s mind to see what had happened. As soon as he connected to him, Levi was hit by a wave of hot air and crippling, paralyzing fear. Through Philip’s eyes, Levi saw the burning house and heard the victorious shouts of an angry mob. He saw Hange become surrounded by those people, saw their hatred and her tears.

Levi squeezed his hands into fists, rage filling his mind and soul. He will make them pay, every last of them, every fool, who dared to lay their dirty hands on Hange, who dared to hurt her. They will pay.

Without wasting another moment, Levi began sprinting towards the village. He ran fast, faster than was humanly possible, but still, it felt like this wasn’t enough, like he wouldn’t be quick enough to save Hange.

He couldn’t let that happen.

So he changed into his demon form and flew into the air, reaching the village in the shortest time possible. He landed in the dark alley, swiftly returning to his human appearance. As he walked to the market place and saw a huge pyre, built in the center of it, Levi had to stop and took a deep breathe.

He felt rage burn inside him once more and his mind filled with desire to kill all of them, to slaughter every person in this village. But he knew he couldn’t do that – Hange would get upset, he was sure. After all they had done to her, she still cared for those people.

Levi could never understand her kind and sympathetic soul, he had never met anyone like Hange. Maybe, that’s why he loved her so much. That’s why he would do anything in his power to save her.

A woman walked past him and Levi grabbed her elbow, roughly digging his fingers into her skin.

“Tell me where she is!” he hissed into her face.

His eyes began to glow and sharp claws appeared on his hands, his control was slipping, but the woman didn’t seem to notice any of that, as she wore a blissful, ecstatic smile on her face.

“Are you asking about a witch?” she asked with the same carefree expression. “She is still inside her cell, I think,” she pointed to a small building with thick walls. “Oh, but they’ll lead her there soon. They’ll burn the heinous witch and that fire will cleanse our village, destroying all of our sorrows and hardships. God will forgive us and without that evil woman, we will be able to live happily again!”

Levi pushed the woman away, and hurried in the direction, where that she had pointed him to. His anger at the woman’s words was somewhat subdued, as a sense of relief nearly overwhelmed him.

Hange was still alive, there was still time to save her.

He rushed through the streets and soon he saw them. Two men, dragging unresisting Hange behind them. The look of her face, the expression of resignation – it nearly broke Levi’s heart. Hange shouldn’t look like this, his expressive and cheerful Hange shouldn’t have that defeated look in her eyes.

His anger was returning.

In quick short strides, he reached them.

“Let her go!” Levi bellowed, resisting himself from ripping those men limb from limb.

The men looked at him, their faces instantly paled and their eyes widened in horror.

“A demon…” one of them whispered, as he moved back, stumbling and falling.

Levi paid no mind to him, his eyes staring at the woman in front of him.  

“Levi!” Hange’s face was surprised, as though she couldn’t believe he was actually here. That foolish woman, Levi thought. Had she not expected him to come? Had she believed that he would leave her alone?

“I’m here, Hange,” Levi finally closed the distance between them, placing his arms around her. “You’re safe now.”

In an instant, Levi changed his forms again, turning into a demon. Hange and he disappeared from a market place in a cloud of smoke.

When Hange opened her eyes again, she was back at Levi’s manor. She stared at him, her eyes filling with tears.

“Levi!” she pressed her face into his shoulder. “Why are those people so cruel? They’ve burnt my house, destroyed my books and everything I’ve owed. And Philip!” Hange’s sobs grew louder. “Oh my dear, darling Philip, they’ve probably have killed him!”

“Calm down, Hange,” Levi sighed, patting her hair. “As much as it pains me, but that beast has survived. He was actually the one, who told me that you were in trouble.”

As on cue, Philip ran out of his hiding place under Levi’s sofa and walked straight to Hange, rubbing her feet with his head.

“Philip!” Hange scooped the cat into her arms, pressing him close to her chest. “Oh my dear boy, I was so worried!” she kissed his head, and Levi was confident that the annoying creature was smirking at him, as he enjoyed Hange’s tight embrace. “And is it true that you’ve helped Levi save me? Oh, you’re my little hero,” she cooed. “What would I have done without you?”

“Oi!” Levi interrupted. “He wasn’t the one who actually saved your ass.”

“Oh, I know,” Hange smirked, leaning in and kissing Levi’s cheek. “You’re my hero, too. My adorable demon with shining wings!”

“Don’t push it, Hange.” Levi narrowed his eyes, wrapping his hands around her and giving her a proper kiss on the lips. Philip hissed in Hange’s hands, and she laughed, moving away from Levi.

“I don’t think he likes you that much,” she gazed at Levi, softly ruffling his hair.

“That feeling is more than mutual,” Levi grumbled in reply, closing his eyes and enjoying Hange’s gently touches.

“Levi?” Hange’s voice was troubled, and so Levi opened his eyes, looking at her worryingly. Hange was biting her lip, staring into the distance. “I had been thinking about your proposal… to leave this place. Is it still stands?”

“Whatever you wish,” he replied, taking her hand in his and squeezing. “Whenever you want to live, just say a word, and it’ll be done.”

“I don’t care where to live,” Hange shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll be happy, as long as you’re with me.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad,” Levi nodded, closing the distance between their faces once more and pressing his lips to Hange’s.

[hardinrepublic]

The Comrade Kimmel Show, starring Comrade Jimmy By Stephen Guy Hardin

Have you ever stayed up half the night trying to get through Karl Marx’s treatise, Das Kapital? Were you transfixed by his powerful opium induced insights into man’s inhumanity to man? Or his stunningly articulated vision of a utopia involving men with guns, large dogs, and barbed wire? Night after night you struggle to become enlightened only to find yourself dozing off after reading the introduction in which Marx praises his mother in a way that would make Oedipus cringe. Well, comrades, your time has come, and it is all because of the crazy guys in the Chinese Communist Party. 

The state controlled Chinese animation company, Disnee, in cooperation with the party’s propaganda department and sponsored by the National Basketball Association and Nike has created an animated series on the wacky life and times of Karl Marx. Entitled The Leader, this series will be broadcast on the Chinese live-streaming platform Bilibili.

Disnee, that’s Disney without the ‘y’ and with an ‘ee’, is the creation of The Publicity Department of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of China, or CCCPCPD.  The CCCPCPD is a division of the Communist Party of China and oversees ideology-related work with an emphasis on children's brainwashing...I mean, education. It is not formally considered to be part of the Government of the People's Republic of China, but enforces media censorship similar to the way CNN is unofficially the official news arms of the Democrat Party.

But, I digress.

The animated series depicts a youthful Karl Marx as a handsome, carefree man happily cavorting in the German fields with his BFF Frederick Engels  as they discuss how horrible it is to be rich unless you are a progressive who donates heavily to the cause. Friedrich Engels, co-author of The Communist Manifesto will be featured in later episodes as Marx’ romantic … I mean muse, uh, co-revolutionary. 

The animation will also provide a brief view of Karl's relationship with his wife, Jenny von Westphalen, or das Schmalz to her friends, allowing the viewer to know Marx on a more personal level that transcends his bankrupt ideology and philosophy of class warfare.

Bankrupt ideology, indeed.

The release of the animated series coincides with a state mandated resurgence of Marxism in China. Chinese president Xi “The Yipper” Jinping delivered a speech on the 200th anniversary of Marx’s birth. In his speech he declared that Marx is the “greatest thinker in human history.” He also vowed that Marxism will always be the guiding theory of both China and the Communist Party and if anyone does not agree that the state will provide you with a commemorative Karl Marx red blindfold just before they put you up against the nearest wall. 

As part of this movement to use animation to further indoctrinate young Chinese minds the Communist Party has pirated… created several different cartoons that have replicated popular Western cartoon figures. The use of look alike cartoon characters such as SpongeBob SquarePants and Bart Simpson are being used to teach children how to squeal on their parents and other family members who are disloyal to the state.

In addition to the cartoons, the Communist Party had started development on several telecasts that closely mirror live action television shows in America while also subtly promoting the teachings of Marxism and the Chinese Communist Party. But after extensive viewing of actual American television, it was decided by the highest levels of the Party to abandon the project. It seems that the always frugal Chinese determined it was more cost efficient to just steal, redub and broadcast the actual American sitcoms.

Between The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon, and Saturday Night Live it became readily apparent that the programming execs at ABC, NBC and CBS were happily doing the work of the radical left.  In addition to these late-night anarchists the prime-time slate of mediocre television shows should be rebranded Commie Prime Time as they propagate and propagandize the viewpoint that capitalism and freedom only lead to societal and cultural rot. 

Though one show was so exemplary in the view of the Chinese Communist Party for denigrating and extolling the crimes and corruption of America the party felt the need to co opt it and place its official seal of approval.   The Chinese only made one small change to maximize the power and prestige of the state. Broadcast in its uncensored entirety every evening to 1.38 billion communists, the Communist Party of China did a little title tweaking as it presented their favorite anti-American American show, The Comrade Kimmel Show, starring Comrade Jimmy.

[spirit-science-blog]

“Time not important… only life important.” yep, we’re going there, things are about to get a little bit philosophical now that we’re dealing with the Fifth Element...no..not the Alchemical Quintessence, but close! That crazy 1990s Sci-Fi about a killer planet, the power of love… and… You know, Bruce Willis’s Wacky Taxi Adventures... and all that…

So, major spoiler alert… The fifth element is Love. Well, kind of...it’s this woman called Leeloominaï Lekatariba Lamina-Tchaï Ekbat De Sebat… For short, Leeloo is the fifth element, and in essence: a perfect, supreme being of sorts. In a way, she’s kind of like Avatar Aan, destined to unite with the other classical elements in an ancient Egyptian temple to act as a defense system against this super evil Dark Force called Mr. Shadow - which takes on the form of a cruel planet, whose only goal is to destroy life in a cosmic cycle every 5000 years.

It’s a movie that’s had its fair share of criticism, especially in the gender department… Leeloo is the only real female character, with others appearing randomly throughout as passive objects, sex objects, or with most of their femininity stripped away like Major Iceborg. Aside from the fifth element herself, there’s a real lack of divine feminine in this story, but then again, her nature itself does embody many characteristics of the divine feminine: powerful, unique, and beyond the understanding of nearly everyone that she meets.

Regarding the plot, we have kind of a Raava vs. Vaatu thing happening like from Legend of Korra… and it’s hard not to draw lines to Avatar here considering the whole elemental theme huh? In the intro, we see an archaeologist deciphering ancient words regarding the conjunction of celestial bodies, something we should all do more of you know? Which, by the way, if you haven’t picked up your edition of the 2021 Almanac of the New Age, I might highly recommend it, because it helps you do just that without being randomly surprised by a giant robot-alien! Before they show up though, the archaeologist has to keep yelling to Aziz to wake up, as the kid keeps nodding off… I wonder if this is subtly depicting how humanity keeps falling asleep and thus the light that illuminates sacred knowledge is not currently stable. Yet when the advanced beings come to show the way, the light is blinding… Powerful and concrete.

There’s also a sense here that humans are the custodians of Earth, so we have to protect it from darkness and destruction ourselves, and while these higher beings help when the time is right, they cannot do it for us. While Love is shown as this mythical force that these advanced beings can use to defeat the darkness, it could also be said that Love is neutral energy between Light and Dark, one that is capable of harmonizing both sides, ultimately resetting the cycle, something that is echoed in Zorg’s speech later on.

All this knowledge is of course passed down through a secret brotherhood of priests, acting as keepers through the generations, of which there are many stories of secret societies doing the same in our history, and amazingly in the future where the main story takes place, Priest Cornelius is also an “Expert of Astrophenomenon”. He’s not just an expert on the metaphysical, but also seemingly the scientific study of space, and there’s certainly a sense that he’s got that whole balance thing down to a tee, working to better his understanding of both science and spirit by combining the two fields.  

So when the military fires a bunch of missiles at Mr. Shadow, it’s interesting to see how they treat Cornelius, who tries to explain to them what Mr. Shadow is, to which he is mostly ignored, and they continue trying to brute force the problem. Yet Evil begets more Evil - as Cornelius explains, subtly referencing that the military's weapons, or at least their intentions. Mr. Shadow - symbolic of “our” shadow selves, demonstrates that it will grow in power if you try to destroy it with the same mindset that created it. The only way to truly harmonize the darkness is through love.

Even more impressive is this disconnect between the President of Earth and Earth itself. While, of course, they are trying to protect the earth and all of its life, when we see the world, we have to ask… are those living? Police and robots so heavily control everything, it’s smoggy, you see some crazy representations of people like the guy who tries to rob Korben in his apartment, and I’m not sure I saw a single tree…

Now, Major Dallas, to that end, of course, represents the divine masculine, also fulfilling the warrior archetype. While, of course, he checks all the classic hero tropes of the ex-lone warrior destined to save the world and fall in love with a perfect supreme sacred woman, the way it plays out DOES provides us with a bit of wisdom for ourselves concerning synchronicity. He describes that what he wants is to meet that perfect woman, and she falls from the sky into his cab. Perhaps this is a nod to manifestation in some way, as it’s their love story that’s the key to resolving the movie's conflict. It’s also a reminder for us that when we stumble into synchronicity, we have to be willing to take that leap of faith and follow where it leads us. For Korben, he has an opportunity to give LeeLoo up to the coppers but ends up putting his whole life at risk for her instead, but it’s THIS path that leads to the world being saved. Korben has to ask himself what’s important, following his heart and helping someone in need or earning more points on his taxi license…

Now, Leeloo on the other hand, through her character explores the nature of spirituality, DNA, and the physical capabilities of our souls within a body. A big topic in spirituality today is the science of ascension - we made a whole workshop on that which you can watch for free if you like - and what enlightenment might look like or do to our physical bodies. Leeloo’s DNA is perfect.. But it isn’t inhuman. There’s nothing really out of the ordinary about her DNA, she has the same genetic composition as us, just more of it, more tightly packed, allowing for greater inherent genetic knowledge and potential. Perhaps there’s a message here that the human genome is already whole, we just need to utilize its latent capabilities to find inner harmony, leading to a leveling up of what we are truly capable of.  

So if Korben was like Link and LeeLoo was Princess Zelda, Zorg would be Ganondorf, completing the trinity. Zorg actually drops some pretty interesting wisdom in his discussion with Cornelius. Despite his “evil” role, his whole name is Jean Baptiste Emanuel Zorg, being named after the prophet and saint in many religions, and Emanuel meaning ”God is with us” in Hebrew. Zorg explains that life itself results from chaos and disorder at times. He believes that by creating a little destruction, he is encouraging life to renew itself, so the Priest and he are really in the same business… while it might just sound like he’s been brainwashed by the Shadow, when we look deeper, we do find some hidden spirituality!

His ideology is in alignment with the wisdom of the importance and honorable role of darkness in our reality. Much like the tower or death card in the major arcana or the shells of the Qliphoth in the Kabbalah, agents of darkness often come to give structure, boundaries, and direction for light to move through, as well as clearing stagnant energy to make way for new and evolved paradigms. Much like the cycles and sine waves that move through nature, energy flows through peaks and valleys that balance each other out.

Zorg knows he is a monster and is proud of it. He’s a businessman at heart, powerful from the money of capitalism, and a reflection of society's state of awareness and evolution. As we mentioned, this future society is portrayed as consumerist and still dwelling on issues of pollution and crime, even in spite of great new technologies. Perhaps that’s why the Darkness had to come, to help propel the evolution of consciousness forward and bring about divine love. However, while the love between Korben and Leeloo is highly symbolic, it doesn’t seem to affect basically anyone else, which might call us to ask ourselves… would it have been better for humanity and its pollution to be destroyed? This - at the very least - seems to be the underlying thinking behind Zorgs criminal activity. Ultimately, in the face of darkness, humans must come together to accomplish things and stop evil, something we wouldn’t do otherwise… This is what makes us evolve as a species.

Zorg perfectly encapsulates his philosophy in his quote about glass, saying “this glass is serene and boring, but when destroyed, a lovely ballet ensues full of form and color”. He then knocks it off the table and a bunch of little vacuum cleaner droids come and clean it up. Describing that the “People who created them, technicians, engineers, now have money to feed their children. They are part of the chain of life".

Interestingly though, Zorg is only a monster because life experiences took him there, but he started like any of us. There is a nice lesson from Cornelius about how fickle life is: all of Zorg’s power counts for absolutely nothing when his entire empire comes crashing down because of one little cherry. Cornelius saves Zorg’s life regardless, showing us the virtue of the angels, even towards the demons.

When the team finally makes it to the alien space opera, we get to meet Ruby Rhod and Plavalaguna. Ruby is one of the most unique parts of this movie… Crazy sexual antics aside, he is unapologetically authentic to his true nature, bending gender standards and seemingly embodying masculine and feminine with grace and humor. Perhaps the epitome of the wacky human spirit. And then as for Plavalaguna, she has some very ascended master vibes. The Mondoshawans entrusted her with the safekeeping of the elemental stones, who actually carries them inside her body as a safeguard. From a Spiritual perspective, this seems to describe how we all embody the classical elements within us. She even senses Leeloo's presence behind a wall down the hallway, implying she has some measure of clairvoyance. Interestingly, like the Mondoshawan from earlier, she doesn’t seem overly concerned with her own death, echoing the movie’s sentiment that time is not important, only life. Deeper though, it appears that she knew she was going to die all along, in order for the stones to get out of her…. We’re not even gonna ask how she got the stones inside her in the first place...that’d be one hard pill to swallow, let alone perform an entire opera with these giant rocks in your belly. Mad props to her.

Perhaps the reason superior beings don’t fear death as we do is that they know the bigger picture, they know these lives are transitory, so they don’t mind dying for a cause, as they understand the purpose of this life in the bigger scheme of things. Knowing that the flux and flow between life and death is transient, they’ll be back in the right place and the right time as life requires it. In the same way, in traditional tarot the horse Death is riding, is stepping over a prone king, which symbolizes that not even royalty can stop change. Plava understands her role and accepts her death, after imparting wisdom to Dallas that Leeloo is still fragile and somewhat human, despite her seeming physical evolution.

This idea of Leeloo still being human, however, forms a key part of the ending, as up until this point she has been learning all of human history via an alphabetical database… When she learns of war, she loses hope in humanity after seeing the darker sides of our past. Certainly, we can’t blame her, humans are the only species to cut down a forest to make room for a billboard that says “stop deforestation”, I’d be pretty shocked about our history too. However, Korben’s love shows her that love is an undefinable thing, it’s not a stone like the other elements, but a feeling between people that permeates everything and is worth fighting and caring for.

It’s pretty funny that when it comes down to it, none of the characters actually know how to activate the super-love bomb. Leeloo doesn’t know what will happen, but she continues to follow her divine calling to be on that platform without second-guessing herself, even if she didn’t know at the end how to activate the final “weapon”..she follows her own inner voice and calling and is guided into defeating the darkness, speaking to the importance of following our intuition and own inner guide.

Ultimately love is shown to be something with no boundaries, no clear explanations, but still exists through us, changing our lives in powerful ways. And through thousands of years, it will stay as the most important thing worthy to fight for. It’s no accident that in a time of such modernized technologies and possibilities humanity once again has to turn to nature for help in the form of the elements. It reminds people that technology cannot always provide protection, it is nature that always has been the source of power, as it exists forever. And only things that are eternal, like nature and love, are of true significance. Today, it seems people either love or hate this movie, but whatever way the coin falls, it is undoubtedly a fun experience, and packed to the brim with spiritual wisdom!

So until next time, be mindful of what you do with the gift of life, cause we never know when a sentient evil planet might try and eat us. Toodles!

This video was created by Team Spirit Connect with the team at https://spiritsciencecentral.com/about

[cinnaminsvga]

fox rain | three

→ summary: When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

→ pairing: bts x reader (feat. namjoon) → genre: college!au, crack, fluff, angst → warnings: none unless you count overly graphic descriptions of how stupid namjoon is (oh and like... ant gambling rings??) → words: 15.7K → a/n: this is late by a month and my whole life is a joke. i hope this makes you laugh bc i made namjoon extra dumb for y’all (for no extra charge. suck it, chipotle.) also: check bio for other chapter links for now!

— • masterlist | prev | three | next • —

“This can’t be my fucking life. Can it?” you say to your own reflection, curtains of despair dripping from every inch of your visage. Your reflection stares back, the same dead eyes twitching imperceptibly from the lack of caffeine in your system. At this point, you wouldn’t be sane enough to be surprised if your parallel self would reply, perhaps with some scathing remark about how you were slowly losing your grip on your life. Not that it would be unwarranted, anyway.

After Hoseok’s explosion the other day, your weekend doesn’t exactly feel as exciting as it usually is. Of course, your mood is still a vast improvement from last week when you were out of commission for most it after your mental breakdown. Although, it doesn’t erase the fact that you’re still knee deep in shit and that you have no idea how you’re going to face Hoseok and Jimin the following Monday.

Damn. You could really use some coffee.

The day seems to be in much better spirits than you, and it would be a waste not to let the universe’s good mood try to make you feel better as well. There is a coffee shop just a block away, and maybe you could take a walk in the sunshine afterwards to help relax the dread consistently knocking at the back of your mind. It’s a little bit optimistic, but it’ll have to do.

Shrugging on a thin cardigan over some other semi-decent clothes, you step out of your stuffy apartment with a spring in your step. You didn’t bother with any of your usual morning ritual, seeing as how you don’t plan on meeting with anyone you know from university anyway. So what if your landlady Mrs. Park sees the bird’s nest on top of your head? Who is she going to tell? Her gang of old auntie friends all hate you already for wearing a “TRANS RIGHTS” shirt in front of them, so it’s not like you’re vying for their acceptance.

Other than your less than friendly neighborhood aunties, there are better old people to hang around anyway. Nearby the coffee shop, there is a senior home where you used to volunteer during your spare time until your other commitments forced you to give up your spot to some other benevolent soul. Since you have been meaning to visit the grandmas and grandpas there when you got some free time, you suppose it would be nice to talk to kind ol’ Ms. Kim today and listen to her recount her many youthful adventures (which is, more often than not, a euphemism for her various sexcapades in the 70s.)

The senior home is closer to your home than the coffee shop, so you choose to stop and gaze at the plain-looking white building with its neatly trimmed bushes and white picket fence. It looks out of place in the neighborhood, with its very suburban and Americana design, but you know it is only because the owner of the establishment had gotten her inspiration from Forrest Gump. She has a crush on young Tom Hanks, and you honestly can’t blame her for it; that man… he is a Man, with a capital M.

You’re in the middle of debating whether you should buy your coffee first before visiting the seniors when you hear a distant shout coming from within the house. Alarmed, you take a step back, almost falling on your ass and onto the sidewalk. You pause, tilting your head to try and peak over the fence and through the large windows that showed the reception area within. You recognize Hana, the receptionist, sitting by her desk in her usual green scrubs, her head bowed over a book as if the sound had not fazed her in the slightest.

“Am I crazy? Am I starting to hear things?” You wonder aloud, still staring at the innocent-looking home. Has the universe had enough with your lacklustre existence that it has caused you to hear nonsense? Is this only the beginning of your slow descent into madness?

You don’t have to fret over your sanity for too long because moments later, the shout repeats itself. Like the previous one, this one sounds just as pained and anguished, though you aren’t sure if it was a male or female who had screamed. For all you knew, the person might have either stubbed their toe or gotten a knife stabbed through their chest; it’s not like you spend time distinguishing the subtle nuances of tormented screams. However, you are more certain now that it had come from within the home, even though Hana has yet to react to the chilling noise. She flips to the next page, tired eyes squinting at the small text.

You are stuck at an impasse: do you go inside the home despite the possible danger of entering a secret cannabilist society of which your acquaintance has been initiated to, or do you turn around and go home where it is 100% more likely for you to survive the next 24 hours?

The choice becomes apparent to you, however, when a tall, lanky boy bursts out of one of the doors behind the receptionist, with his arms piled to the ceiling with dinner plates on the cusp of making their way to the floor. Even through the window and behind a fence, you can tell that he is in dire need of help, which Hana does not seem likely to extend. The mess of legs makes a beautiful display of himself, his lower limbs flapping about aimlessly as his body contorts to try and keep himself and the plates balanced.

Finally, after what feels like hours of torture watching the poor volunteer make a fool of himself, he manages to steady himself, his legs crossed together like he’s trying to hold in his piss. Carefully, he squats down, placing the plates on the floor in front of the receptionist desk. For a moment, you feel as though you should be applauding, for whatever reason.

Now without dishes obscuring his face, you can make out the identity of the flailing giraffe man. He turns, fingers combing through his distinctly colored hair––

Oh god. It’s him. You gotta get out of there, fast, before he recognizes you. Maybe if you run quickly enough, then maybe he won’t notice you when he looks out the window around.

“Ha,” the universe laughs, clapping their asscheeks to the rhythm of Ludacris’ Move Bitch Get Out Da Way™️ with a smirk. “Cute of you to think your life isn’t basically a 20-year long trainwreck in motion.”

Inevitably he turns around, his eyes immediately locking on your face despite being half-concealed by the fence. He looks confused for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish until he lights up, recognition flooding his features. Even though you cannot hear him clearly, you just know that he said something stupid, judging by the way Hana has finally looked up from her book to stare at him weirdly.

Please don’t come out and greet me. Please just let me wave at you awkwardly and for you to stay where you are. Please don’t go out and talk to me––

Your prayers go unanswered once more as he sidesteps the wall of plates, his hip just barely grazing it and almost causing it to tumble down. The pile sways precariously from left to right, miraculously staying put as he rushes out to greet you. You can only imagine the mess he’d have to clean up if it did, shards of cheap porcelain left behind in his awkward, fumbling wake.

Luckily (or unluckily for you), he makes it out of the senior home in one piece. He crosses the short path to the fence in two inhumanly long strides, slamming the fence door open with a wide swing. It smacks loudly against the railing, the hinges making a pained groan as it looks to be at the inch of its life––literally. You vaguely remember replacing the screws on it just before you left over six months ago… Surely you hadn’t done such a shoddy job? Although, you know that simply can’t be true. After all, you’re dealing with none other than destruction incarnate himself, Kim––

“Y/N!” Namjoon greets happily, his dimples deeper than you remember. You swallow heavily, trying your best not to sweat under his overly enthusiastic gaze. God, you should’ve gone straight to the coffee shop when you had the chance.

Nothing like facing disaster head-on, as they say. “Hey,” you reply half-heartedly, though the walking inflatable tube man doesn’t seem to mind your lacklustre mood. He grasps your hands for a shake, swinging your entire body up and down with the care of a man who does not know his own strength. You, his unfortunate victim, are left to suffer through his artery-bursting grip.

“Oh god, you have no idea how glad I am to see you! Not that I’m not normally happy to see you at university, but––” He speaks so quickly that it’s hard to keep track of the specific contents of his sentences, so you can only hope that your unenthused nods will be enough to placate the bumbling buffoon. You resign yourself to a fate similar to the bobbleheads on the dashboards of those white suburban soccer moms.

“Wait, hold on.” What on earth..? You are full on gaping at the piece of work on top of his head, not even pretending to be polite as you try to process what is in front of you. “What the hell happened to your hair?”

You know from old Facebook photos that Namjoon has natural black locks, though you can’t say that his wacky hairstyles were also inborn. Ever since you have known him, he has always dyed his hair a sandy brown color, complimenting his tan skin. Now, however…

“You mean the weird blue streaks?” Namjoon says, rubbing a few strands thoughtfully. His hair is a walking disaster, and this is coming from someone who has seen what Kim Seokjin has done to his clients. (There’s a reason his Yelp reviews are terrible… He deserves negative stars, if you’re being honest.)

“Did you lose a dare or something?”

“Uh… Kind of?” He scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I had meant to change my hair color to something more exciting, so I asked the kids at the daycare and they suggested blue. Problem is, the seniors said they preferred my brown hair but I already promised the kids so… Here we fucking are,” he says in one breath, appearing as though what he said was obvious.

“So your solution was to compromise… by coloring half your hair blue, like some botched version of Death the Kid?”

“Exactly!” He beams, glad that you understand him perfectly.

Oh my god… He’s… No words are coming to you right now, but you get the picture.

The thing about Kim Namjoon is… he’s not… bad. Or dumb, for that matter.

Okay, not the best compliment out there, but it’s true. You’ve known for as long as you’ve been a university student, and your first meeting is certainly one for the books. You wouldn’t exactly consider him a “friend,” and an acquaintance is a bit of a stretch on most days, but he’s a nice guy. He’s eccentric in the most positive way, and not at all in the same chaotic and evil way that Seokjin is (for which you are thankful for.) It has always been a bit tricky to get close with him, as his head is always so far up in his work that it almost feels like he’s being reclusive on purpose.

If you ignore the fact that he has that odd propensity to volunteer himself in any job on the face of the earth (with him being unqualified 9 times out of 10), it is easy to see why people think so highly of him.

He is a scholarship student with a 4.0 GPA, is the youngest candidate to ever receive the university president’s yearly public commendation, and has already released two reputable mixtapes with high praise from critics nationwide. He’s nothing if not a prodigy, and he’s amassed a hefty following for his accomplishments. As a music major yourself, it’s hard not to be a little starstruck with him if you’re being honest.

Most of all, you remember the first song that you had ever heard from him: Moonchild. You still can’t quite believe he let you hear one of his many masterpieces when the two of you had just been total strangers. The lyrics had been so heartfelt, so intimate, that you felt as if you were intruding on his personal space or something. But he had let you listen, let you take a peek at what goes on inside that nebulous brain of his. When he does things like that, it makes it easy to understand why people might think your love poem might be about him. He’s just so… easy to admire.

The poem isn’t about him, but. It could have been, in some other life. (Or maybe it is.)

(Was.)

(Will?)

Regardless, you still have to convince him otherwise. You just simply aren’t ready for that type of development, much less with him. Despite all his good sides.

Thus, Kim Namjoon leaves you at a standstill. Why do you feel so fucking weird about harboring this idol crush on him? How can he be so dumb and so smart at the same time? He has blue fucking hair for crying out loud! He’s causing you cognitive dissonance just by existing, and it’s giving your meagre amount of brain cells a workout.

Oh shit, have you been ignoring him? You were totally zoning out this entire time, haven’t you?

Somewhere around the time you were having your mini mental breakdown, Namjoon’s mouth had stopped moving, giving you an expectant look. Oh shit. He probably asked you something. Embarrassed and unwilling to give away that you had not processed even a single word out of his mouth, you nod and give him an approximation of what you assume is a friendly smile.

For a second, you think that you might have gotten away with it when Namjoon’s face breaks out into an enormous grin. He grabs you by the shoulder and envelops you in an chokehold-like embrace. You let out a wheeze, clawing at his biceps with your remaining strength to try and prevent your untimely death due to asphyxiation. “Namjoon..?”

He lets out a shriek at a higher octave than you thought a man of his size was capable of. Somewhere out there, a dog probably perks up at the supersonic sound. “Y/N, I knew I could count on you! Thank you so much for agreeing to help me with the elders for Zombie Tea Time!”

Now that caught your attention. You pause in your squirming to fix him with a confused expression. “I’m… I’m sorry? What did you say?”

His smile never falters. He presses his cheek against yours, rubbing it happily with a hum. In any other scenario, you might have fainted from how adorable he was being, but seeing as how all your blood is still trapped in your upper extremities from his vice hug, it is difficult enough trying to remember how to stay alive.

“Every Saturday, the senior home hosts this event called Zombie Tea Time where the old people all get to have their faces painted with fake blood and all the volunteers have to pretend to be innocent civilians trying to get away from them!”

The more Namjoon speaks, the more you feel your sanity dripping out of your ass like diarrhea. “Ex. Excuse me? Say that again?”

“Yeah, it’s a new thing the volunteers are trying out this month,” Namjoon says, finally (finally) releasing you from his hug. You don’t know if your flushed cheeks are from embarrassment or a stroke. “Like I said, we’re a bit shorthanded today, so I’ve had to wash the plates from breakfast AND pretend to get eaten by senile zombies. It’s… a lot.”

“Oh, I can tell.” You grimace, patting him on the shoulder empathetically. You freeze. “Wait. So that’s why you were screaming a while ago?”

“Huh?” Namjoon pauses, before his face does something funny where it looks like he’s either going to sneeze or take a shit. Thankfully he does neither, but instead reaches his hand around his back like he has an itch he needs to scratch. He makes a pained yelp, plucking something out from his asscheeks and pulling out what appears to be––

You stare at the object in his palm. “Are those… dentures?”

“Hmm…” Namjoon stares at it, too tired to be disgusted. He just nods his head sagely. “Must’ve been when I was too slow to dodge Mister Lee’s lunge. I was beginning to wonder why my ass felt like it was being eaten out.”

“Please, never say that sentence to me ever again.”

“Yea,” he agrees, sighing faintly. He pockets the teeth much to your horror, patting it gently like he hadn’t just placed a pair of dentures in his fucking scrubs. He dusts off his hands, his lips pursed so that his dimples stand prominently on display. You barely contain yourself from sinking your finger right into their hypnotizing abysses.

He looks at you hopefully. “So… Uh. You said you’ll help me?”

Oh right. You fucking said you’d help him fend off a hoard of virulent old people in face paint.

You look to the right, where the coffee shop is just within sight. Sweet, sweet caffeine, tantalizing you with its saccharine presence, dangling its wretchedly addictive power over your head. If you breathe deeply enough, you think you can smell the coffee beans from here.

You turn back to Namjoon, and you can physically feel the weight of his hopeful gaze on your shoulders. Your defenses have never crumbled so quickly in your life. Fuck him and his stupidly handsome ass.

You sigh, resigning your fate to eternally being whipped for a pair of pretty long legs and size B man titties. “Let’s fucking do this, I guess.” Easier said than done, but you already have one foot in elephant shit, so might as well submerge your whole body as well.

You follow Namjoon closely, having to take two extra steps for every one step that he takes. He crosses the reception area quickly, sending energetic finger guns at Hana which unsurprisingly goes unrequited. You take the more inconspicuous route and wave shyly at her, intimidated by her even after you have long since stopped working here. She levels you with one of her infamous hundred yard stares, lips turned downwards as she appraises you.

“You’ve decided to come back?” she asks, leaning back on her chair with a huff.

Namjoon is in the midst of trying to once again carry all the plates in his Play-Doh arms, so you’re a bit distracted when you shake your head in response. “Uh. N-no, Namjoon just asked me to help with the dishes, that’s all.”

“That’s a shame,” Hana says, no trace of disappointment in her voice whatsoever. She returns to her book, buzzing open the double doors to let the two of you pass. She flicks her hand lazily at the commotion happening behind her. “Better hurry back in there. The seniors are getting antsy.”

The doors open automatically, and you almost topple over when you are immediately bombarded with the terrifying symphony of old people hollering obscenities at frantic volunteers trying desperately to get away from their gnarled clutches. The hoard hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, and you fear to wonder what type of horrors that you will have to face once you step through those doors. You absolutely refuse to die on this hill, not when you haven’t even had your first kiss yet.

“I don’t think we’ll die,” Namjoon says, as if he can read your mind. You look at him skeptically.

“You think?”

He clears his throat. “I can’t promise we’ll come out of this unscathed, though.”

He takes a tentative step forward, the pile of dishes wobbling dangerously on their perch. You are quick to steady the leaning tower of Disa(ster), managing to transfer half of it into your own arms. You grunt, adjusting your stance so that you do not accidentally lose your grip. “Dude. How the hell did you get all those plates out here in the first place?”

Namjoon stands up straighter, the weight significantly easier for him to manage now. He smiles cherubically back at you, eyes crinkling cutely. “Oh, I was literally on survival mode and trying to stop lil Mrs. Sun from gnawing my leg off. The elders can smell fear you see, so they were definitely going to climb on top of me like World War Z and probably kill me.” He pauses, deep in thought. “Although, I think I dropped a plate or two while I was escaping, so watch your step!”

He says all of that with the same eagerness as man who is about to do something crazy, like jump out of a plane or walk a tightrope over a 100 ft canyon. Though, you have to admit that this entire scenario feels like it is on the same calibre.

“Is it me, or are the old people here 10 times crazier than I remember when I volunteered here?”

“You used to work here?” Namjoon says, amazed. “Oh, I didn’t know that! I only started a week ago when some other person resigned due to mental health issues or something.”

“You sure that this place isn’t the cause of their mental decline?” You say it like a joke, though you mean it seriously. Maybe the universe had been looking out for you when decided to get out of this place.

“Hmm… Maybe. Although, we only received this shipment of old people fairly recently.”

Pause. Rewind. “S-shipment?” you repeat, staring at him wildly.

Like the lovable airhead that he is, Namjoon fails to notice your astonishment and instead takes the first brave step forward through the double doors. He tilts his head towards the hallway, gesturing for you to follow him. The plates rattle dangerously from his movements. “C’mon, we gotta get these plates cleaned before the lunch crew comes to take over their shifts!”

Walking to the kitchen is easier than you thought, especially after you take into account the fact that all the old people completely ignored you and chose to only attack Namjoon, for whatever reason. You like to think that it is because the seniors still remember you back when you were still volunteering here and that they hold some semblance of endearment for you, but Namjoon begs to differ. In fact, he screams out his hypothesis as to why you have been left unharmed, all while two older women climb his back like demented crabs.

“Y/N! I think they can’t attack you because you’re in civilian clothes! They only attack scrubs!” Namjoon says, swatting away one of the women off his back with a surprisingly coordinated headbutt. She shrieks as she falls, landing on all four legs like a cat would do. She hisses lowly at you, before scuttling off to somewhere unseen.

“Let’s hope you’re right,” you wince, watching Namjoon unsuccessfully trying to spin quick enough to dislodge the remaining senior.

Namjoon perks up when he catches a glimpse of his attacker’s face, giggling and appearing as if he isn’t currently being assailed by a senior citizen. “Oh, Ms. Kim! I didn’t see you there. I love the zombie make-up you got going. Who helped you?” He looks at you, as if imploring you to compliment her as well.

“Uh. Yes. You’re looking very… yellow.”

Ms. Kim snarls, baring her teeth. “It’s the jaundice,” she says.

Not wanting to stand in that hallway any longer, you carefully place the plates back on the floor before you gently unclamp the old lady’s talons from Namjoon’s poor biceps. You wince, feeling the length of her nails and knowing that Namjoon is going to have some nasty scars.

You tell him so, but he only shakes his head. “Nah? I think they’d be pretty neat! Battle scars are cool right?”

You grimace at him. “If that’s… what you think, then sure.”

After grabbing your plates and hurrying after him before the elders make note of Namjoon’s survival, the two of you share a sigh of relief as you both slowly start piling them into the dishwasher. The task is menial and repetitive, and despite what Namjoon’s earlier chattiness might have suggested, he is quiet while he works. The silence is not as awkward as you feared, and honestly the peace is a welcome respite after all the chaos that you had to endure in such a short period of time. Although, silence has never been a good friend to your overworked mind, as it allowed you to stew inside your own head for much too long––and you have found in your 20 years of existence that it is probably for the best that you are not left without external stimulation for too long.

But here you are, forced to do exactly that. You would have engaged in some conversation with Namjoon to stop yourself from getting in over your head, but you are afraid of what sort of embarrassing topics might spew out of your mouth if you do. Heaven forbid that you start geeking out on him about your unhealthy obsession of collecting miniature glass horse figurines––that is a secret best kept between yourself and the tentacle monster under your bed.

You begin reflecting on the events from the past two weeks, replaying them second by agonizing second and ruminating on the state that your pitiful young adult life has become. The more you allow these memories to simmer, the more you slowly realize the weight of the accumulated stress that has long since made you hunch over like a goblin.

Hoseok and Jimin’s argument comes to the forefront of your mind, the unexpected heat coming from both of them confusing you to no end. You still don’t know the source of their ire towards one another, but what baffles you the most is how you could have missed it in the first place. Sure, you had thought they were at least more than acquaintances; one does not simply challenge a near stranger to a dance off in the middle of a library three times a week, for more than two months and counting. Friends might have been a stretch, though you can’t say you’re familiar with how their schedules look like outside your tutoring sessions together.

The question is though… should you interfere? Normally, you would have stayed far away from anyone else’s drama––you just aren’t the type of person to stick their noses in other people’s business. Yet somehow, you feel as if your poem was the catalyst to this violent chain reaction, that you have inadvertently caused the foundation of a precarious building to explode and bring the whole thing crashing down. To think that your silly love poem for a boy who hardly knows that you exist has become the center of so many people’s lives… the entire thing is giving you a headache.

Speaking of headaches… you should probably confront Namjoon about the poem as well. It is probably best that you plan your approach better this time, seeing as how your two previous attempts have been anything but stellar. Namjoon can’t be that difficult to convince, right? And even if he does see right through you, he doesn’t seem like the type of person who would laugh cruelly at you in the event that he figures out that you are the author. Not like Seokjin, at least. Luckily no one is like Seokjin, the fucking rat bastard that he is.

(In the distance, Seokjin has the sudden animalistic urge to slip anthrax in your milk tea the next time he sees you.)

You glance at Namjoon from the corner of your eye, definitely not ogling the way his arms flex as he loads the final couple of plates. The breath catches in your throat when you realize that some time while you were busy swimming in your junkyard of a brain, he had rolled up his sleeves up to his forearms, displaying his god-like veins for the eyes of the deplorable (you) to feast upon.

Your mouth feels dry, even though other parts of you feel more moist than you remember. Oh god, now is not the time to remember how hot this fucking nerd is.

Despite the fact that your biological clock is screaming “HORNY HOUR” at your monkey brain, Namjoon continues to be thankfully unaware of your internal panic. He closes the dishwasher door shut, clicking it on with a relieved sigh. He gives you a megawatt smile and makes your heart leap into a somersault, probably knocking around some vital organs along the way.

“Thanks so much for the help, Y/N! Couldn’t have done it without you!” he cheers, clapping you roughly on the shoulder. You wheeze under the impact, waving away his concern despite feeling like your lungs have probably slipped out of your asshole.

“It’s no problem, Namjoon…” you sigh, gazing sadly as Namjoon begins to do a final sweep of the kitchen before inevitably going to sign off for the day. You know your window of opportunity has already closed, and if you had not spent so much time staring at his beautiful man tiddies, you are sure you could have been a little more productive with him. Curse him and his damn chest.

But now, at least you’ll have more time to think of how to approach him and bring up the poem when you aren’t, like, seriously decaffeinated and on the cusp of a heart attack. You are about to bid him farewell with your tail between your legs when his hands cup your cheeks, catching you off guard.

You splutter incomprehensibly, arms flapping about like a fish out of water. “Wha––?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention! After my hours here at the senior home, I have the afternoon shift at the daycare center near our university and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?”

If Namjoon’s cool, large hands holding your face like a delicate flower had caught you off guard, then his sudden invitation only exacerbated the furious blush blooming across your neck like a rash.

So what do you say?

“Meep,” is what you say, like the verbose poet that you are. Y/N, renowned campus poet, has the vocabulary of a five year old.

“Is that a yes?” Namjoon smiles, letting go off you in favor of looping his gangly arms around your waist. Another unflattering noise escapes your throat at his proximity and his firmness. “That’s so great! The kids love seeing new faces, and I bet they’d love to have a pretty girl around instead of plain ol’ me all the time!”

You gape at him. Did he just say…

“P-pretty?”

“Yea, sure!” Namjoon says, his stupid grin still on his stupidly handsome face. He does not appear to be embarrassed at all by his brazenness, which is starting to make you think he is either a well-seasoned flirt or just plain oblivious to the implications of his own words. Knowing him, you wouldn’t put it past him that the latter might be the reason.

Compliments and unintentional flirting aside, you really did not feel up to another harrowing experience with Namjoon at one of his other volunteering stunts. You are but a woman in clown shoes, and even the most seasoned clowns must have their rest.

“Listen, Namjoon… I don’t think I can go with you. I have to go, uh,” you pause, your hamster brain working a mile a minute. “Water… my dog? No, I mean… feed my plant.” You cringe, mentally slapping yourself.

Namjoon, the sneaky bastard, hits you with his strongest and most potent puppy dog eyes in his arsenal. It was super effective! “Please, Y/N? I won’t take too much of your time! Just play with the kids for two hours and I promise to leave you alone!”

C’mon, Y/N. Focus. Are you the type of woman to break down her defenses for the wilful fancies of any man? You’re made of stronger stuff than this. Surely you can look him in the eye and tell him straight to his face that you would prefer to go home and rest on this beautiful Saturday than go frolicking with a bunch of snot-nosed children––

“Oh, sure. Why the hell not?” you say, like the dumb fucking idiot that you are.

Namjoon’s dimples deepen even further. You glare menacingly at them, knowing full well that they were entirely the cause of your weakness.

“Thank you so much, Y/N! The kids will really appreciate your presence! C’mon, we haven’t got time to lose!”

Namjoon does not even give you the time to fully comprehend your own pitiful existence before he nearly tugs your arm out of its socket as he maneuvers you to the local daycare just a few minutes away from the senior home. You don’t get to say your farewells to any of the seniors or your old work colleagues, but it might be for the best… You will need all the sanity left in your body to survive the rest of the day with Namjoon.

On the bright side, that means you’ll have the chance to talk to him about the poem, though you’re still hesitant to do so with how badly your previous stunts had ended up. But then again, when else would you get another good opportunity to talk to your crush acquaintance about this? You suppose you’ll just have to wait and see what happens next, and hope for the best.

You have been at the daycare for almost three hours now, and there are still no signs of you ever bringing up the poem. You might as well sign your last will and testament with the macaroni art supplies currently decorating your body, making you look like a morbid pasta dish monster from hell. You hope to god that the sticky stuff all over your skin is just cheese… White, rubbery scented cheese…

“Ain’t this fun?” Namjoon calls out from somewhere, presumably under the mass of ten or so toddlers all climbing him like a tree. You are caught in a state of déjà vu as the children start feasting upon any exposed areas of skin that their kid-sized incisors can find.

You just wanted to talk about the fucking poem for fuck’s sake! Instead, you have to deal with thirty 2-foot children and one 6-foot manchild during one of your only free days in a week.

A miniature demon tugs your sleeve, forcing you to tear your eyes away from Namjoon’s slow demise. You bend down to the little gremlin’s height, mouth twitching upwards in what you hope is a somewhat decent smile. Judging by the kid’s unimpressed face, you doubt it.

“Yes?”

“Miss Y/N? Can you tell your boyfriend that Jake peed in the ballpit again? Aera slipped on the puddle and now she’s crying and disturbing the younger kids.”

Record scratch, freeze frame. Now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that. Out of all the things the kid had said, you are sure that his implication that you were Namjoon’s girlfriend should not have been on the top of your list of priorities, and yet here you are, your cheeks as flushed as a baboon’s ass.

“He’s not––We’re not––” you stammer, waving your hands as you try to explain to this unenthused six year old that what she said was entirely impossible. “Namjoon is just a friend!”

You turn to look for the man in question, desperate for him to back you up when you realize he is no longer there. Confused, you leave the huffing child in search for him. You leave the main playroom and search the nearby nurseries, the kitchen, the bathroom… all of them with no Namjoon in sight. Just so you can cover all your bases, you decide to check one of the supply closets too, not really expecting to find anything except––

“Namjoon? What the fu––fudge?” You quickly correct yourself, noticing that not only is Kim Namjoon inside the cramped broom closet, but he is also surrounded by five other children huddled around what appears to be a series of tupperwares connected together by plastic straws.

Namjoon hastens a glance at you, before refocusing his attention back onto what he deems to be more important. He nudges his shoulder against the smallest of the bunch, stage whispering into her ear. “Jihyo, did you bet the three lollipops on Ant #3?”

Jihyo shakes her head, looking mildly offended. “Oppa, do you think I’m dumb? I bet all of my chocolate bars on Ant #6.”

Namjoon whistles lowly, impressed. “All-in? You’re one smart lady.”

You clear your throat. “Namjoon.”

Namjoon has the audacity to hold a finger up to silence you. “Give me a sec… Okay, Seungcheol. You said ten hard candies for Ant #2?”

“Namjoon. Are you seriously running a gambling ring in a daycare?”

He peers up at you, smiling sheepishly. “I’m, uh… Teaching them about capitalism.” He deposits the candy bets into his pocket before starting the timer on his phone. The children begin to cheer raucously, little fists pumping up as they watch their bets race towards a slice of cake.

“I can’t believe this,” you groan, wanting nothing more than the earth to swallow you whole.

Eventually, Namjoon exits the closet, gently closing the door. The shouts of the children become muted immediately. When you gaze inquisitively at him, all he does is shrug his shoulders. “What? Secret clubs allow people to explore their interests.”

At this point, you don’t really want to argue anymore. And so, the hectic day goes by, full of running after the children and occasionally having to reel Namjoon in when he does something bordering on negligence. The parents slowly start filtering in by five in the afternoon, most of whom pat Namjoon affectionately on the back and thanking him for his stellar daycare service.

“Oh, Namjoon! My little Jihyo absolutely adores you! She hardly wants to leave whenever I come to pick her up.” Jihyo’s mother smiles, slipping a small tip into Namjoon’s waiting palm. The little shit pockets it, bowing graciously at her.

“All in a day’s work, madame. I just love children, you know?” he says, sighing dramatically.

From behind her mother, Jihyo gorges herself on her prize winnings, shoving a whole packet of M&M’s into her mouth. She swallows them quickly when her mother turns to bring her home.

“I hate this,” you say to yourself, smiling through the pain.

“Oh, before I forget!” Jihyo’s mother dashes back inside, startling you. She approaches you, grasping your hands in hers and shaking it wildly until you can hear your joints pop out of their sockets. “Your name is Y/N right? Thank you for taking care of Namjoon, too. It’s so nice to see that he’s finally snagged a girl as pretty as you.”

It is a testament to how dead inside you truly are by how nonplussed you are by their unfounded accusation. At this point, they could congratulate you on your recent engagement to Namjoon and you probably wouldn’t bat an eye.

“Thanks.” All in a day’s work of being a madman’s little bitch for the day.

After the last child is taken away, your Saturday finally ends. There had been no poem discussion and no progress made; only your respect from one of your long-time crushes being whittled away like the soaps on those ASMR channels until you are left with useless cubes of Irish Spring scented granules.

On your way home, you pass by Seokjin sitting languidly on the bench outside the coffee shop that you had originally intended to go to this morning. The closed sign greets you impetuously, and your wounds are salted further by the sheer presence of the most annoying man on the planet.

Seokjin sips on his venti iced Americano, Gucci sunglasses tipped downward on his nose. An odd, high pitched windshield wiper sound escapes his lips, and you belatedly realize that he must be his version of laughter. “Y/N. So nice to see you. I’m guessing that you just came out of a… fishy affair?”

You grind your teeth, flexing forward with the intent of hitting the rat bastard. Fish crackers fall out of your hair in clumps from your movement. “I’ll eat your toes if you say another word about this.”

You say that, but you know that there will be photos of you out on Facebook by the time your head meets your pillow for the night, as you hear the telltale sound of a camera shutter go off as you limp sadly back home.

The following Monday, you resolve to talk to Namjoon during your History of Music class together.

Now normally, you would never subject yourself to sitting near Namjoon in class. No, it is not because of your debilitating crush, nor his eccentric personality, nor something unexpected like insanely toxic body odor (which he does not have, by the way. He always smells alarmingly like cotton candy.) In fact, nobody likes to sit near Namjoon, made apparent by the two row radius of empty chairs around him. As much as everyone adores and idolizes him for his talent, no one can stand his propensity to overachieve like the infuriating know-it-all that he is. His hand is perpetually up in the air, begging to be picked for recitation, always with something profound to say.

“Sir, I don’t think your notes are correct. From my research, that type of music would not have existed until the 1600s––”

“Namjoon,” your professor seethes, Powerpoint clicker clutched tightly in his fists. His left eyebrow twitches concerningly as he tries to calm his breathing. “I would prefer it greatly if you do not question the actual expert in this area, is that okay with you?”

Yeah. He is definitely not someone you’d want to sit beside.

Though, he really makes it hard not to want to be around him. Despite all the imperfect parts of his personality, Namjoon always looks like the cover model of what a perfect college boyfriend should dress like. Terrible dyejob aside, his hair is slicked back in a fashionable way, revealing his beautiful forehead for all of humanity to behold. He is wearing a fitted graphic tee under a denim jacket, with loose brown slacks that look good on his endlessly long legs. To top it off, his signature wire-frame glasses sit daintily on his nose, making him appear as smart as he is.

You are suddenly reminded of the true scale of your crush on him as sweat begins to build on your neck and down your backside. How the hell are you going to approach him now that you are perfectly aware of how good he looks? It is people like Kim Namjoon that remind you of this universal truth: attractive people only exist to cause the less fortunate to forget how to use their basic motor skills.

Focus. Remember how much of a crackhead he was last Saturday? Okay, retain that information. Remember how fucking stupid he is, and this will be much easier on your heart and your loins.

Taking a deep breath, you make your way to where he is seated, right at the front of the class. It is a long way down the auditorium to where he is, and you can feel the stares of a few of your classmates as you make the treacherous journey right into the proverbial lion’s maw. You do your best to ignore them, quietly sliding up next to him and waiting for him to notice your presence.

From the corner of your eye, you can see that he is jotting something frantically on a notebook, a mess of words in more languages than you can speak decorating every available space on the smooth white pages. At the top of the paper, you can see what might be a tentative title for a song, perhaps? You can’t be too entirely sure, as Namjoon is part of so many clubs and organizations that he might as well be writing next week’s lunch menu for the cafeteria.

(Highly doubtful as Namjoon has a reputation for allowing inflammable things to catch on fire, but you wouldn’t put it past him to at least try and apply for a culinary position.)

It seems that Namjoon is too immersed in his writing to greet you himself, so you have to be the one to steel yourself and strike a conversation with him instead.

“Uh. Hey… Namjoon?” Smooth like butter. Seokjin would be proud.

Namjoon doesn’t reply. He keeps scribbling along, humming something indistinct under his breath.

You clear your throat. “Namjoon?”

No response. Again, “Hello?” You wave a hand in front of his face. His blinking slows for a second, but he continues to ignore you.

Starting to get pissed off, you huff quietly to yourself before bringing your palm backwards and slapping him upside the head. “HEY PANINI HEAD! YOU FUCKING IN THERE OR WHAT?”

That manages to bring him out of his headspace, thankfully. “Huzzat?” Namjoon jumps, cradling the back of his neck gingerly as he stares at you, confused. Recognition filters through his eyes as he realizes belatedly what had just happened. He blushes slightly. “Oops.”

“Oops is right. Were you really going to ignore me for the rest of the class if I hadn’t slapped you?”

Namjoon shrugs, grinning in that cute goofy way that he does. “Sorry. ‘M not used to people sitting beside me, is all. Glad to have a friend in this class though! Have you always been in this class?”

“Yea, but I usually sit in the back.”

Namjoon nods, turning back to his notebook. “Sorry for ignoring you. I really didn’t mean it. When I’m in the middle of writing, it’s kind of hard to get me out of my own brain. Plus, this draft is due in two weeks and I’ve scrapped three pages worth of lyrics already… I’m kind of in a panic right now.”

You peek over his arm, trying your best to decipher some of his words. Your interest is piqued, always having wanted to see his draft notebook ever since that first time he showed you Moonchild almost a year ago. “Lungs have capsized… I am drowning in my own body… Wow, those are some dark stuff.”

“You think so?” Namjoon squints at his own messy handwriting. “I got inspired by the fish in the aquarium I volunteer in. I’m actually excited to go back there, because I want to play it for the fish and see if they like it.”

“Isn’t it better to play it at the daycare of senior home so you can actually get… human feedback?”

Namjoon gasps, hand to his heart, offended. “How dare you assume that fish can’t give quality feedback!”

“Right,” you cough, raising your hands in defeat. How dare you, indeed. “Sorry.”

Namjoon sniffs, closing his notebook just as the professor walks in to start the class. “You better be. The fishies get really offended when people say stuff like that.”

The professor begins the moment he sets down his things, so you know you won’t have time to bring up the poem, not when Namjoon is already starting to fall into his overachieving know-it-all student persona. You tap him lightly on the shoulder, gaining his attention.

“Hey, I have to ask you something later after class. Will you stay behind for a few moments?”

“Sure,” Namjoon replies cheerily, flipping on his laptop to start taking down notes. He stops in his tracks before gazing warily at you. “Hold on. If this is about the fishies again…”

You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes, so you sigh instead. “No, Namjoon. This isn’t about the fishies.”

Appeased, Namjoon returns to listening attentively to the professor drone on about dead musicians and their impact on musical culture. You hardly take any notes, still nervous about talking to Namjoon about the poem. What would be the best way to approach the subject, you wonder? Your previous attempts with Seokjin and Hoseok had featured a lot of yelling and arguing, and you would prefer not to leave a bad impression on Namjoon of all people. Additionally, you don’t want to know what arguing with Namjoon would entail, because you have a strong feeling that any debate with him will only leave you second guessing your entire existence with how good he is at flipping the subject. Or, you could always kick him in the knees, but that would be like overpowering a baby––you’d be a monster for taking advantage of him.

The short one hour lecture flies by quicker than you would like. To your surprise, Namjoon only interrupts the professor twice, so you suppose that’s a win for everyone else.

“Alright class. Please remember that the research paper regarding 17th century music is due on the Friday before your break,” your professor says. He points a stern look at all of you, and maybe you’re imagining it, but somehow you feel like he pauses just a second longer when he passes his gaze over you. “And please, try not to send your paper to the entire student body to air your secret little crushes like a bunch of lovestruck idiots.”

Your ears turn an unflattering shade of red as most of the students chuckle at his little joke, all of them probably not knowing that the lovestruck idiot was just a few seats away.

“C’mon, Namjoon.” You sigh, shrugging on your backpack as you wait for him to finish packing up. Namjoon watches you curiously, brows furrowed.

“You seem dejected. Are you having trouble with class? Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“N-not… not really,” you say, shaking your head. “Can we talk about this outside? People for the next class are starting to come in.”

Namjoon follows you dutifully from behind, and you can hear him bid his farewells to a few giggling freshmen as the two of you exit the lecture hall. They coo openly in his presence, with one of them bold enough to compliment his fairly generous bosom, her fingers twitching as if she is only one push away from grabbing them by the fistful.

You walk towards the small cafe near the entrance of the building, grabbing one of the empty chairs and gesturing for Namjoon to sit across from you. He does as you say, confusion still gracing his handsome features.

“So, will you tell me why you’ve called me out here now?” Namjoon asks. Before you can respond, however, he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a half squished sandwich. He offers you the less crushed half, like the gentleman that he is, but you find it hard to accept when you feel like your stomach is turning inside out with nerves.

“Umm… How do I say this…” You groan, leg bouncing so incessantly that the poor table begins to shake. Namjoon doesn’t even try to stop his other sandwich half from sliding over, instead giving you a concerned glance.

Fuck it. Better to rip the band-aid off in one swoop, right?

“Y/N––?”

“Namjoon, are you aware that people think someone wrote a stupid love poem about you?”

His previously open mouth clamps shut, then. He stares at you in confusion, a dollop of mayonnaise hanging off his jutting chin. “What?”

Panicking slightly, you’re quick to continue your train of thought, probably to your own detriment. “NOT that the poem is about you, by the way. Well, it could be? No? I DIDN’T WRITE IT!” Pause for heavy breathing. “A-anyway, that’s not the point… I just wanted to ask if you were… umm… aware of it. Yeah. That’s it.”

Ohhhh my god. You stupid idiot. Fuck fuck fuck fuck you fucking stupid piece of shit ass tit fuck what other swear words are there oh yeah FUCK!!!

In the midst of your personal mental beatdown, you fail to see Namjoon’s genuine look of confusion, his head tilted to the side as he watches your face turn red. He chews on his sandwich thoughtfully. “Uh? No? I’m not aware? I really have no idea what you are talking about, Y/N.”

You finally stop swearing at yourself. “Wait, really?”

Namjoon nods his head. “Really. What poem are you talking about?”

“Please tell me you’re joking. I don’t really like being teased; I get enough of that from Seokjin.”

“No, I’m serious!” Namjoon raises his hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t joke about something that is clearly giving you distress.”

“It’s not causing me distress!” You screech back, voice cracking from your tone going up a pitch. You clear your throat. “Um. Wait. So that means you haven’t heard about the huge rumor going around about a love poem being about you?”

He shrugs his shoulders, lips pursed. “Not a clue. Am I supposed to?”

Huh. You stare at the imbecile before you, his previously handsome looks starting to look less appealing by the minute. Is this shithead for real? Did you really spend hours worrying over how you would approach him about the poem, only to find out that he has no clue what you’re talking about? Like, how is it even possible for him not to know? You can’t even spend a minute doing anything without someone bringing up that stupid mistake of a poem. How the hell did you ever have a crush on him?

“Pardon? Did you say crush something?”

“Oh shit,” you curse, slapping a palm to your mouth. Did you fucking say that out loud?  

“Sorry,” Namjoon swallows thickly, a large bite of his sandwich visibly going down his gullet. “I was chewing too loudly so I didn’t hear you properly.”

You heave a sigh of relief. Okay, maybe being an idiot has its benefits.

“It’s fine. It wasn’t anything important,” you say, already arranging your things to get up and leave. If Namjoon is oblivious to all the poem shenanigans that have been circling campus, then who are you to inform him? All you can hope now is that he remains ignorant of the poem at all, and chalk it up as a success in your book. It’s not like he’s going to be curious to find out more anyway––

“Wait! Don’t go! You’ve piqued my interest now. I wanna know what you were talking about,” Namjoon pipes up, leaning his lanky body sidewards so as to block you from leaving. You halt in your movements, surprised by his sudden inquiry.

Sweat starts to form in the middle of your back at his earnest curiosity. “I––it’s nothing, Namjoon. I was just messing with you. Don’t worry about it.” You laugh nervously.

“I don’t think you were?” Namjoon rubs his chin thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t have been so adamant to call me out here just to be joking.”

“Listen, I really have to go. I have another class soon and I wanna grab lunch before I––”

“You said something about a poem.” He remains undeterred, pulling out his phone. “And it’s about me? Well, not about me, if that’s what you’re saying…”

“Hold up!” You snatch his phone out of his hands, holding it behind you to keep it from his reach. Even though you know his inquisitiveness is not his fault, it doesn’t stop you from wanting to punch him square in his cute little nose. Hell, you don’t recall wanting to fight anyone as much as you do right now.

(Seokjin sneezes somewhere in the distance, feeling offended for whatever reason. “Y/N should only be punching me,” he thinks to himself as he dumps way too much purple dye on this poor lady’s head.)

“Why are you being so weird right now? Give me back my phone!” He pouts at you, not at all knowing that your resolve is already quickly crumbling before him.

“I…” You gulp, foot tapping restlessly as you try to think of what to do. “Okay. Fine, I’ll show you the poem. Just… don’t read too deeply into it, okay? It’s just a stupid thing that got too many people excited over nothing.”

“Sure,” Namjoon nods his head, acquiescing quickly. “I don’t really like paying attention to much of the rumors and trends that happen on campus. I just want to see what this poem is all about.”

“Just… don’t let it get to your head,” you mutter, returning his phone to him. You direct him to the university confessions group page, watching as his fingers fumbled with his keyboard. Eventually, he gets to the post (pinned to the top, forever mocking you for your stupidity) and reads the short piece in record time.

There is a pause where neither of you speak. You know he has finished reading it from the way he has started to scroll down to the comments, though he quickly jumps back to the top when you glare at him to stop. He leans back into his chair, closing his phone and stares at you expressionlessly.

You click your nails across the coffee shop table as you observe him suspiciously, his lack of response making you more nervous. “Well?”

The left side of his mouth quirks up––but not in a way that might suggest glee or satisfaction––and he stays frozen like that for a bit. You have the sudden urge to wave your hand in front of him to check if he’s fine, and being the type of person to submit to your urges, you do as you please.

Thankfully, he snaps out of it, blinking quickly as if he’s forgotten that you were there. He scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Oh, yeah. The poem, uh… How do I put it…”

“What?” What on earth could he have a problem with? Does he genuinely think the poem might be about him? “If you’re starting to think that the poem may be about you––”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Namjoon opens his phone again, peering at the poem questioningly. “I was just going to say that this poem is a lot less impressive than you were hyping it up to be.”

Excuse me??????? He did not fucking just say that.

“You did not just fucking say that,” you verbalize, glowering at him. You can feel the fumes start to steam out of your ears, but Namjoon remains oblivious (as per usual) to your emotions. He just hums, shrugging his shoulders with his nose upturned in the air, as if he had just smelled something horrible.

“It’s just… the meter is all messed up… Like, I’m all about free verse or whatever, but I can tell the author is trying waaaay too hard to keep whatever rhythm they had going on in the first verse.” He scrolls through the poem some more, before stopping somewhere in the middle. He shows you one of your favorite verses with a look of something akin to disdain. “And what’s up with all the moon references? That theme is so overused.”

“YOUR MIXTAPE LITERALLY HAS A SONG CALLED MOONCHILD! THAT’S WHY PEOPLE THINK THE POEM IS ABOUT YOU!” You explode, spittle flying everywhere from the force of your shout. A group of freshmen sitting nearby jump up in surprise, though most of the older, more dead-eyed college students do not even bat an eye at your spectacle. This university is full of cuckoos, is what they are probably thinking.

The biggest cuckoo of them all looks at you defensively, frowning somewhat irritably. Namjoon continues, “Yeah, but I used the moon in my song in a classy way! I would be offended if someone would write this poem for me after being inspired by my song.”

Is it possible for blood to boil inside your veins? Because you’re really starting to feel heat trail up your back up to your neck, causing you to see nothing but red and the tantalizing vision of your hands around his neck. Easy, Y/N. You can’t afford anger management therapy; you have a tuition to pay.

In all seriousness though, you cannot take this any longer. You have suffered long enough while having to follow Namjoon around like a bitch for two days, and if karma still wants to use the strap on you, then she’s going to have to do it some other day because you cannot physically stand being around Namjoon for another ten seconds if you can help it. And this is coming from someone who is around Kim Seokjin at least twice a week, so it is obvious that your patience and sanity is truly at its limit.

“I’m done.” You are barely able to keep yourself from slamming your head against the table. Instead, you stand up hastily, chair legs screeching against the tiled floor. You shoulder your bag quickly, waving at him without even turning to face him. The sooner you get away from him, the better. “You can think what you want. Just live your life, man. I’m done.”

“Okay? Well, have a nice day, Y/N!” Namjoon calls out a cheery goodbye, though his tone obviously still sounds confused even as you walk further and further away from him, a trainwreck of a human being. You resolve to yourself to call Hana the next morning to ask her to slip some opened sweets into his jean pocket so the ants at the daycare might climb out of their shelter to bite him in the balls.

How did you ever have a crush on that bastard? I guess that mystery will have to remain… unsolved.

Unluckily, your mood does not improve after lunch, nor do you calm down after your next class either. In fact, you are still steaming when you arrive to your tutoring session with Hoseok, so much so that you have completely forgotten to be worried about him after the events of last Friday.

(Record scratch, freeze frame. Pause. What the hell happened last Friday again? Your overworked brain cells can only handle one stressful event at a time, so you suppose that problem with Hoseok and Jimin will have to be solved another day.)

Hoseok, the caring boy that he is, also forgets to retain his moodiness from Friday’s argument when he spots you looking like you were about to pop a blood vessel at any moment.

Hoseok sits hesitantly in front of you, even placing his textbooks gently onto the table as if any sudden sounds might cause you to self-combust and splatter your guts all over the library floor. The only thing really keeping you from doing exactly that is because you wouldn’t want poor Jungkook the library assistant to have to clean up your mess.

“Umm… Hey, Y/N. You okay? You look kind of… red.” Hoseok says carefully, smile twitching on his face.

The suddenness at which you slam your hands on the table causes not only Hoseok, but also Jungkook who is three whole bookshelves away, to jump up in surprise. The former makes a terrified scream to accompany his leap into the air, staring at your frantically with his fists held up in defense.

“AHH? Y/N, what’s going on––”

“SHUT UP!” You point a finger menacingly at him, making him shriek once more. Your jaw is clenched, teeth grinding audibly. “YOU FUCKING KNOW WHAT, HOSEOK? I’LL WRITE THE NICEST POEM IN THE ENTIRE WORLD FOR YOU, OKAY? YOU DESERVE IT! FUCK WHAT ANYONE ELSE THINKS! I’M A GOOD WRITER AND NOTHING KIM NAMJOON SAYS WILL CHANGE THAT!”

Hoseok’s mouth opens, agape. He doesn’t know how to respond, not quite understanding what you were saying in the first place. A lot of angry words spilled from your lips in such a short amount of time, and Hoseok was more impressed with your flow than anything. Were you a rapper, by any chance?

Unaware of Hoseok’s musings, you huff loudly to yourself, slamming open your lecture notes and shoving them aggressively towards him. “ALSO, I TOOK THE LIBERTY OF WRITING A REVIEWER FOR YOUR MIDTERM! PLEASE READ THROUGH THEM IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS!”

“Umm… Thanks?” Hoseok says, not really sure which part of your loud declarations he is specifically thanking you for. He sneaks a glance at the front desk, thankful that it is only meek little Jungkook in charge today and not the cranky older librarian who already has a personal vendetta against you and your tutoring group for being public nuisances (not that she was unjustly pointing fingers, of course).

Your mental collapse aside, the rest of his tutoring session goes smoothly, with Hoseok still walking on eggshells around you just in case you might feel like exploding again. You know, for fun or something. Although, he does end up asking if he can leave a few minutes early, saying something about a paper due at the end of the week. The excuse doesn’t make you bat an eye until Jimin arrives for his own session, his grin faltering when he sees his hyung not there to greet him with their usual dance battle in the library.

“Ah… Guess Hoseok-hyung really is still mad over what happened…” Jimin sighs, slumping into his chair. He thumbs his textbook thoughtfully, tongue sticking out like a puppy.

“I’m sure it’ll blow over soon,” you say hopefully, though your heart isn’t quite in it either. Coughing awkwardly, you pluck his textbook out of his hands, desperate to talk about something else other than your crumbling interpersonal relationships. You pause at the page, however, before staring incredulously back at Jimin.

“Jimin.”

“Hmm?” Jimin is still listless, head pillowed by his arms on the table. “What?”

“This is a book on differential calculus. I’m supposed to teach you about writing academic essays.”

“Oh yeah,” Jimin sighs, closing his eyes. “I stole that book from some freshman on the way here. The English textbook I usually bring is with Taehyung right now.”

You pause. Actually, now that you think about it… “Jimin, do you actually even go to this university? What the hell is your major, even?”

“Wha-?” Jimin yawns, fanning his mouth with his hand. He blinks sleepily at you with a big, doofy grin. “Sorry, I played MapleStory for hours last night and I haven’t gotten much sleep. Can I just sleep during this session? I’ll still pay you or whatever…” he trails off, stretching like a cat under a patch of sunlight. Before you know it, the soft sound of Jimin’s snoring fills the silence.

Thankfully, Monday ends without much more commotion. You may have come out of this experience a little bit more broken inside, but hey! That’s what character development is all about, babey. You are just glad that Tuesdays are usually your quietest days, as you only have two classes to worry about. It is also one of the days when you have Creative Writing with Sera, who usually manages to rope you in to get greasy fast food after class. Despite the traumatic experience that particular class has indirectly inflicted upon you, your usual zeal and excitement does not diminish in the slightest. After all, writing will always be your first love, so there isn’t any way some silly poem mishap will make you detest it.

Hopefully nothing else will go wrong, because you aren’t so sure your sanity can take much more of a pounding.

(Fwip. Do you hear that? That’s the sound of karma putting on her strap.)

“Alright class, see you guys on Thursday. Don’t forget that we have a quiz at the beginning of class on Thursday, so please don’t be late.” Professor Puth says, his eyelids blinking out of sync. You hate to be someone who assumes what other people do during their off days as it is none of your business, though the perpetual cloud of marijuana that clings around him can only do so much to mask what his recreational activities might be.

“Dude, I think Prof Puth is finding Nirvana soon,” Sera says loudly, earning the giggles of a few classmates nearby.

“I’d be surprised if he could even find the exit of this building,” you snort, just as the man in question trips over air and nearly faceplants on the ground. Like the model students that you are, you both pretend to be busy doing something else, leaving some other poor soul to help your professor.

Two girls that you vaguely remember from somewhere approach Professor Puth. They are quick to help him straighten up, if his groaning and gasping are anything to go by. He thanks them gruffly and waves them off, but the girls seem adamant to stay put.

“Professor, I have a question…” One of the girls asks, nervously tugging on her ponytail. Her friend giggles surreptitiously beside her, urging her to continue. Their odd demeanor causes signals to go off in your brain, telling you to stop and listen. You tug on Sera’s hand, halting her from leaving.

“Wait. I wanna hear what they’re gonna ask,” you mutter, ignoring Sera’s complaints about being hungry. She can wait for her McNuggets for another five minutes, no matter how much she pretends that she’s starving. You had seen her eat two whole burritos before coming into class today.

Professor Puth raises his brow. “Yes? What do you need?”

“We were just wondering if you could… tell us anything about the identity of the author from that poem?” The girl manages to get all of it out in a rush, cheeks flushed as her friend nods fervently beside her.

“Yea, Prof! We’ve been dying to know! The suspense is killing us, knowing that the mystery author is in one of your classes!” The other girl continues, glittery excitement practically exuding out of her in waves.

Professor Puth sighs, leaning heavily on his desk. He appears about as done as you feel. “Listen… You can badger me all you want, but there’s no way I can tell you. Privacy laws prevent us from sharing information like that without prior consent, even though that student in question might have accidentally sent her assignment to the entire school.” You might be imagining it, but you think Professor Puth points you with a knowing look. You gulp, hastily bowing your head and pretending to fiddle with your phone.

“Aww, Prof! It’s been days and the university hasn’t shut up about it! Surely one of the theories on who the author and muse are must be true, right? You can tell us that, at least.”

You can’t bear to keep listening any longer, though Sera has started to become more interested in the conversation as it progressed. “Wait, wait… I wanna hear the Prof’s opinion,” she says, grinning despite your nails digging crescents into her arm as you try to pull her away.

“No can do! Remember, I have your freshman Halloween pictures saved on a harddrive, and you wouldn’t want me to accidentally send that to the entire student body as well, would you?”

That manages to snap her out of it. Quickly, the two of you leave the lecture hall and away from possible discovery by your poem-frenzied classmates. You are also relieved to be able to breathe in fresh air once more, after being stuck in that class surrounded by liberal art students for two hours. You always do feel a little bit more relaxed after class with Puth, although that might just be from all the secondhand drug use.

Perhaps the fumes really did dull your reflexes, as it takes a while before you realize that Sera has been nudging your shoulder.

When you finally glanced at her, there is a sneaky grin on her face: never a good sign. “So,” she begins, a singsong quality in her voice

After having been her friend for long enough, you have become adept at telling what Sera is going to say next. Call it intuition or whatever, but you like to think of it is a self-defense mechanism. As much as she is your friend, she does love digging into your personal life like it is the cover story of some shitty tabloid. You have to prepare yourself to be interrogated.

“You’re going to ask about the poem, aren’t you?”

Sera rolls her eyes, like you shouldn’t have even asked. “Duh, of course I am. What else would I want to talk about?”

You shrug your shoulders, pretending to think. “I don’t know. Maybe you could have asked ‘Hey, Y/N! How’s your mom been? Have you been eating and drinking well?’ You know, like a normal person.”

“Well, firstable, your mom is literally my friend on Facebook and I saw her go out to that bougie high tea place with Jennie’s mom the other day, so I know she’s fine,” Sera says as the two of you round a corner, heading closer to the parking lot where her car is. “And secondable, you don’t fucking drink water, because you like pretending to be a dehydrated piece of jerky.”

“I just like drinking apple juice, okay? Water is weird,” you say defensively, kicking a pebble as you walk.

“Nah, you’re weird,” Sera counters, ever the creative debater. She remains undeterred, however. “So. Any updates on the poem situation or am I going to have tickle the details out of you?”

You groan, pushing her away from your sensitive sides. “Please don’t… I have no upper body strength and I won’t be able to push you off!”

“That’s the point.” Sera laughs, pinching your cheek. She snatches her hand away, only narrowly escapes getting bitten by you. “Why don’t we skip my torture methods then and go straight to the juicy bits? It’s been ages since I’ve seen you!”

“What if nothing has happened since I last saw you?” You grumble, miffed that she really isn’t letting it go. You just want to have one relaxing day, is that too much to ask?

Apparently, it is. Relaxation is a rare commodity these days. Sera snorts, patting you condescendingly on the back. “Nonsense. You’ve got that post-mental breakdown glow around you. You look absolutely radiant with stress!”

The conversations pauses for a bit when you make it to the parking lot. You don’t have to walk too far, as her car is parked relatively close to the exit, which is just another display of how lucky Sera often is in comparison to you. While your unfortunate plebeian ass is busy drowning in shit, Sera is off somewhere aboard a yacht, getting a massage from some Instagram thot.

She hops into the driver’s seat, waiting for you to put your seatbelt on before backing out with one hand on the wheel. “McDonalds?” she asks, though it is pretty much a given that is where you are going. The last time you both tried diverging from your usual hang out spot, you got intense food poisoning from eating at Chipotle. Sera came out completely fine though, that lucky bitch.

She continues her questions on the drive there, and you relent by telling her most of what has happened to you over the past few days. You gloss over the argument between Hoseok and Jimin, not really wanting their spat to suddenly go viral on Facebook as well. Everything else, however––

“Wait, so you talked to Kim Namjoon? The Kim Namjoon? The Namjoon that you had an embarrassing crush on during our first year?” Sera laughs maniacally, almost driving off into the wrong lane. Luckily, you are quick to latch onto the wheel, saving the two of you from becoming roadkill.

“Watch where you’re going!”

“No, but Y/N! That’s literally so fucking funny!” Sera’s laughter has simmered to a giggle, despite the fact that she is still trying (and failing) to furtively glance your way when you hit a stoplight. “Is he like how you remember? God, do you remember how you were after you first met him? All starstruck because your senpai showed you a draft of his single? ‘Oh, Sera! He has the most amaaaazing flow! I’m going to suck his di––’”

“Shut up!” You whine, slapping her in embarrassment. “Believe me, that crush has died, along with any respect I may have had for him. Men are scum, and I’m going to only date girls from now on.”

“Fine by me! More dick to suck for me, I guess.” Sera teases, whistling innocently. Bold of her to assume that there is any innocent or pure bone in her body; you’ve seen her thirst tweets and no amount of holy water can cure the disease that your vision must have sustained.

“I just want the rumors to die down… It would make my life way more bearable.” You murmur to yourself, sliding down your seat.

Sera is silent for a while. The McDonalds is just within sight, so Sera waits until she has finished parking before she turns to face you fully, uncanny sincerity in her expression. It unnerves you how serious she is, not when you know that this is the same girl who would snort sugar packets if you bet her $5. She places her hands on your shoulder, fixing you with a meaningful look.

“Listen, Y/N. I know all of this is tough right now, but I’m sure it’s going to be alright, okay? The rumor is going to die down soon enough, and everything will be back to normal. Stay strong for now.” Her voice is soothing, sympathy dripping from every word. As mortifying as it is to admit, the tears flow down your cheek effortlessly; perhaps it is the consequence of having to bear this burden on your own for so long without anyone actually telling you that it’s going to be alright.

“Thanks… I think I needed that,” you say after a while, sniffling just a bit. Sera grins fondly at you, wiping your tears.

“No need to thank me. I may be a chaotic shithead, but I’m also your friend.” She unbuckles her seatbelt, gesturing for you to do the same. “C’mon, let’s go in. I’ll even share my nuggets with you.”

Despite her best efforts at comfort, you still feel a little bummed. You allow yourself to wallow in your self-pity for a bit, as McDonalds is a prime location to feel shitty about your life choices anyway. The heart attack inducing food, the barely hygienic facilities, the minimum wage high school employees… Nothing else screamed “I’d rather be dead but it could also be worse” quite like Mickey D’s often did.

You wait by one of the booths while Sera goes off to order for the both of you, leaving you with her phone and other belongings. She promises to let you eat four out of the twenty nugget pieces, which is asking a lot considering who you are dealing with. Sera could probably eat sixty nuggets if she so desired, but only stops herself so she can be physically well enough to continue being a thot. Chasing men all day requires physical fitness, or so she says.

When you go to place her things on the other side of the booth, you notice that Sera had accidentally left her phone unlocked. You can see that she had been previously looking at one of those popular forum sites for your university, where most of her repertoire of gossip is usually sourced from. You aren’t usually the type to frequent those types of pages, with good reason too. That exact forum is the reason of your current stress, where your most private thoughts and feelings were revealed for all to see. Any sort of positive opinion you might have had for that site was immediately dashed the moment that cursed poem was released into the wild.

It kind of pisses you off that Sera still uses that forum despite knowing how much anxiety it has caused you, but then again, there is only so much you can expect from her. Her appetite for drama and chaos is her way of life, her only other hobby aside from writing. You also vaguely recall her saying that she gathers inspiration for her short stories from some of the more outrageous posts made by your fellow schoolmates.

In the end, curiosity gets the best of you as you stare at the open webpage, tantalizing despite the murkiness that lies within. Oh, lighten up. It’s just a confessions page… Besides, you also kind of want to see what people are saying about your poem, and whether the commotion might have died even slightly over time. (Unlikely, but you remain hopeful.)

“Let’s see,” you murmur to yourself, sneaking glances at the counter to see if Sera is close to ordering. She appears to still be next in line to order, so that might give you enough time to read a few of the comments on the post. It doesn’t take you long to find the original post either, since Sera seems to have been perusing the same thing just beforehand.

“Typical Sera...  Sympathetic in the streets, a nosey bitch in the sheets.” You snort, scrolling quickly through the comment section. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary, except for a few overenthusiastic responses from a couple of people who have bombarded the forum so much that it takes you a few moments to navigate past their thread. You catch a few words here and there, mostly the names of the seven possible muses and not so much the names of any of the possible authors. Honestly, you are more than happy with these turn of events, perfectly content as long as your identity never sees the day where it becomes associated with that disaster piece.

You sort the comments by popularity, wanting to know what everyone’s biggest guesses are. You want to remain hopeful, but as the results start to load, the wave of nausea that suddenly hits you may have been the first warning signal that you should probably stop before you read something that you will regret.

posted by u/SeokjinGod [3d ago]:

[+103, -4] i’m really hoping that kim seokjin is the muse of the poem!! has anyone seen the ads for the new play he’s staring in? he totally looks like the lead actor in a romantic comedy ^^

➾ [+54, -69] psh. that idiot, the muse? PLEASE anyone who has ever worked for kim seokjin KNOWS that it’s physically impossible to form a human connection with that man

➾ [+2, -1] lol seconded

posted by u/namuwuchild [1d ago]:

[+88, -3] WAIT why am i not seeing kim namjoon’s name more often T_T he deserves more love!! stream moonchild or else i’ll bite your ankles

➾ [+1, -6] lol i miss when namjoon used to do actual hiphop… fucking hippie dippie go fuck a tree and some crabs while you’re at it

You sneak a look over your shoulder. Sera is at the front of the line, reciting her orders while the harried employee has to quickly punch in the inordinate amount of food items. Okay… While no one’s looking, time to downvote a couple of these and maybe report some of these assholes… No way in hell are you letting anyone think Moonlight Sonata is about either of those Kim idiots. You would honestly rather out yourself than let anyone think they are worthy of such public displays of love and humiliation.

You are just about to close Sera’s phone and vow never to set foot on social media ever again when the next post catches your eye––the first one where you actually see your name. In fact, your name is generously sprinkled a number of times in this one specific thread.

“Wait a second…” You squint at the top of the thread, reading out the username of the original poster. Is that… Is that your name?!

“User Y/NKook… Oh my god!” You shriek loudly, almost dropping the phone from your sweaty palms. It must be the same person who had organized that merchandise booth in the cafeteria the other week! The number of upvotes on the post isn’t making you feel any better.

posted by u/Y/NKook [3h ago]:

[+98, -5] idk why you noobs are even trying… intellectuals KNOW that y/nkook is real and i won’t take no for an answer… give me my childhood friends to lovers fic RIGHT NOW because this slowburn has been going on for years now and i can’t stand it!!!

➾ [+11, -0] omg op do you know them personally?? how’d you know that they were childhood friends?? i go to the same drama class as y/n and jungkook but they never sit together… are you sure it’s them??

➾ [+20, -1] of course!! they’re even neighbors… besides, haven’t you heard what his nickname is? his friends call him moon eyes for a reason! they say that y/n is the one who gave him that name ^^

You feel your eye twitch, disbelief flooding your senses. Why is this weirdo shipping you with Jungkook? You guys haven’t even spoken properly since elementary school… How does this dude know who you are? Are you being stalked? You whirl your head around, scanning the restaurant for any suspicious people who may or may not be following you. Is this what celebrities feel like when they get shipped with their friends? You feel a sudden surge of respect for them, unable to grasp the situation that you are in. God, you really hope Jungkook hasn’t read any of these.

You go to switch Sera’s phone off, feeling less accomplished than ever before. Maybe it is best to save yourself the anxiety of seeing your world fall apart and try to delude yourself into thinking that the past two weeks have never happened at all. However, there is a certain appeal to reading things that you know you should not, like watching a car crash and unable to look away. The urge to keep scrolling and gaze upon your own personal hell is hard to stop when you have already gained momentum.

“One last post, then I’m done…” You are hard set on that promise, not wanting your apprehension to destroy your peaceful afternoon completely. The next post on the forum greets you with a high upvote number, sending a lick of fear to run down your spine at what you might find. Please don’t be about Y/NKook, you pray helplessly. Little did you know, there are worse things to worry about other than being shipped with your friends.

posted by u/triceratops 👤 [1h ago]:

[+154, -5] hey guys i’m back again with another update! so i’ve managed to shorten the list a bit since last time i posted, and i’m 100% certain that kim seokjin is not the muse! sorry, gamers… our prince is in another castle it seems. worry not, though! that only helps our search better and shortens the list. on the other hand, the authors list has also been edited! turns out that neither jodi nor melody is the author, as they both submitted poems about something else. if you are interested to see the updated lists for both muse and author, please head to my profile and look for the original post titled “Mystery Moon Author & Their Mystery Muse” :-)

You have never clicked on a profile as quickly as you did in that moment. Not even a notification from UberEats could make you move that fast.

Lo and behold, the post that started it all is right at the top of the user’s profile, with the significantly shorter list that they had promised. Sweat begins to build on your temples when you realize that the authors list has decreased to seven names, with your name still obstinately sitting at the end of the lines. When will your suffering end?

There is still something that doesn’t sit right with you, however. As you peruse this user’s profile some more, you feel as if there is something weird about it that you can’t quite place. You never did like using this forum, so maybe you are just not used to the layout of the website? What is it about this user’s profile that is making your stomach coil with nerves?

Wait a second… Why is there an edit button beside their profile picture?

“Y/N! I’m back! Sorry for taking so long; I think I ordered too much again. You’re fine with BBQ sauce on your nuggs, right? That’s all I asked for––” Sera had been happily chirping away, sliding into the bench across from you before finally noticing your stoney face. She pats her face, rubbing her cheeks in confusion. “What? Do I have something on me?”

“How fucking dare you!” You hiss, slamming her phone on the table. Unfortunately, you had accidentally locked the phone in your anger, showing only a black screen.

Sera flinches backwards, bewildered. Her eyes flick to the screen and then to you. “Huh? I thought you liked BBQ sauce on your nuggs? I mean, I can ask for sweet and sour sauce if you want…”

“Unlock your phone right now and explain to me why you have triceratops’ profile logged in.”

Your words begin to click in Sera’s mind. Her face grows pale, her body unconsciously sliding further into the booth to hide from your glare. “U-uh… Haha, what on earth are you talking about..?”

“Don’t even try to lie, Sera. I saw everything, and I honestly don’t know if I’m madder that you betrayed me or that I was stupid enough to believe that you were my friend.”

Sera splutters incomprehensibly at first, waving her arms in panic as she tries to save her ass. “I––! You––! It wasn’t like I––”

You lean forward, peering at her coldly. “Oh yeah? What wasn’t it like? It wasn’t like we were friends?”

“No, of course not! I mean,” she backtracks, tongue-tied. “We are friends! It’s just… I made that post before I knew you were the author and I originally sent the poem to just a couple of people because I was so impressed, and I just wanted to––”

“Hold on,” you interrupt, holding up a finger. She squeaks, staring at you fearfully as you slowly get up to your feet. You cry out, “You were also the one who released my fucking poem to the world?!”

“Anna ou––” Sera whimpers, slapping her palm to her mouth. She lowers it, whispering ruefully. “I… didn’t mean to say that…”

“Oh, so you were meaning to lie to me even more?” You seethe, ready to burst into flames.

The poor McDonalds employee who had come to deliver your order to your table seems too frightened to approach the two of you, her arms shaking both with fear and the weight of five orders of 20 piece chicken nuggets. “Uh, is this a bad time?” The girl asks, eyes darting away from your heated glare.

Instead of answering, you grab the tray from her hands and dump the contents on the table. Sera squawks pitifully when a few of the nuggets fall to the ground, though she absolutely yells when you start chucking them at her head like tiny oily cannonballs.

“What the fuck––Dude stop!” Sera has her arms up in defense, shielding her face from your fiery attack. The sound of you ripping open a BBQ sauce packet has her straightening up, however. “No, not the BBQ sauce! Anything but that!”

“Give me one reason why I should show you mercy.” Your hand is poised to pour the sticky sauce all over her white Valentino bag, ready at a moment’s notice.

“Please, Y/N! I’m really sorry!” Sera jumps out of the booth, and goes on her knees. She clasps her hands together, shaking them frantically. “I really didn’t know it was you at first!”

“Well then, why didn’t you fucking take the post down the moment you did know it was me? I thought you were my friend!” You clench your fist around the BBQ sauce packet, causing some of it to spill onto her bag. She makes a desperate noise.

“I just… I like the attention?” She knows this is the wrong answer, judging by your unimpressed expression. She sighs heavily, head bowed in shame. “Look, I’ll fix this, alright? I genuinely didn’t do this wanting to hurt you… I just got so caught up in the clout that I didn’t really think about what would happen if you found out!”

“‘If’ I found out, huh…” You echo, more disappointed than angry now. You slump back into your chair, taking care to grab the napkins and cleaning the sticky mess on your skin as best as you can. “You really were going to continue doing this for as long as it took, huh?”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.” Her voice is soft, repentant. It doesn’t do much for your sympathy, however.

“Fuck you, honestly. If you really are sorry, you’ll fix this mess as soon as possible.”

You reach for your bag, your movements jostling a few more nuggets to tumble to the floor. You don’t bother saying goodbye, not wanting to see if Sera is doing her Crying Face Emoji impression to try and soften you up. Not this time. This time… you don’t think your feelings can recover after this.

You have read enough stories about heartbreak and longing, but you don’t think any of them top the experience of losing a friend you realize you never even had.

The next morning, there is a new post on the forum from user triceratops.

posted by u/triceratops 👤 [0s ago]:

[+0, -0] Hello, friends. I think I’ve found the author.

It’s Lee Sera.

[kiwi-strawberry-banana]

So, was spitballing ideas with @thewiglesswonder about skekGra and urGoh, so here is a more concise timeline and my thoughts on the two:

379 trine seems to be the length that skekGra and urGoh were banished before Rian and friends came upon them. We also know that there is some time between the show beginning and the movie ending, as well as the fact that the Great Conjunction happens every 999 and one trine. So, making a guesstimate, it is likely that 400 trine passed between when skekGra and urGoh were banished and when the movie takes place.

Which means that the two had around 500 trine between becoming divided from the Urskeks and being banished.

I bring this up because of the known plans we have seen skekGra and urGoh implement. They had extremely detailed puzzles, ranging from Lores puzzle in the Vapran Capital (which I will return to in a moment), to the extensive puzzle that was hidden in the Caves of Grot for the Duel Glaive.

(For the Duel Glaive trials, I know urLii says that Mystics can't fit through to reach the Duel Glaive, but he never said anything about Skeksis being unable to reach it. Or perhaps skekGra and urGoh made the entrance smaller after hiding the Duel Glaive. Whose to say.)

Now, think about it; how would skekGra, a banished Skeksis, not only be able to put multiple extensive puzzles that lead to tools specifically used to end Skeksis rule, but put them in locations that are heavily populated with Gelfling?

Because, skekGra and urGoh made many detailed plans before seeking out the Skeksis and Mystics, before their exile.

Think about it; skekGra may be popular as the crazy, goofy grandpa that lives in the desert with his husband, but skekGra is still a Skeksis. He was once the Conqueror, and as he says himself:

"They called me the Conqueror when I was young, from sea to sea my victories were sung..."

"...Vile and cruel deeds, from which I was famed."

We have seen from multiple Skeksis that they will not hesitate in killing, such as with skekVar and skekMal, but to have one that is famed for his cruel deeds? That puts skekGra on a completly different level from the other Skeksis in multiple ways.

So, think about this: You're the Conqueror, doing your Conquering thing. Killing and maiming your way across Thra when suddenly a vision hits. Now, you meet with your Mystic half. You want to reunite, but you're no idiot. The Skeksis are cruel, violent, and won't take kindly to becoming Urskeks again.

So you, as Conqueror, make several plans. You're a famous Skeksis, so it's easy enough to secretly put a rock golem under the All Maudras throne, and you're so feared that no Gelfling would dare talk back to you. Perhaps you put various other clues and plans in other places for Gelfling to find, plans that have yet to be discovered.

But that isn't enough and you know this. You need something great, something grand, something to use against the Skeksis if needed.

Somehow, you get your hands on the Crystal Shard, the one that is meant for the Crystal of Truth. There is no way the Skeksis will just let you put the missing shard back, however, and you're smart enough to know that, despite your strengths, there is no way you could battle through every single Skeksis.

So instead, you take that shard and put it into the hilt of a blade, a large one. The Duel Glaive. It is perfect, especially against the Skeksis. If they won't listen to reason about reunification, you can use force. You are the Conqueror, after all.

But something goes wrong. One way or another, the Skeksis discover the Duel Glaive, as well as who owns it. They don't know of the crystal shard hidden in the hilt, but they know it is dangerous and must be destroyed. If that happens, you will never be reunited with your other half. So instead, it is hidden away, and you are forced to make your pleas with the Skeksis.

Or, perhaps you try and use the Duel Glaive against the Skeksis, try to force them down so that you may reunite the shard with the Crystal, so you may be reunited with your Mystic half to become an Urskek once more.

Either way, things go wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong, and you are exiled.

You won't be killed, but you must be careful. As a fugitive, there are too many risks in being out in the open, so you go into hiding with your other half. With him, you learn that it is, in fact, the Gelfling that will be the answer to your problems.

So, you must wait until your plans are discovered and messages are found and hope that, perhaps, the Gelfling will listen.

There are likely some timeline issues with my theory, especially given that the timeline is... Honestly, kinda confusing, but my main point is both skekGra and urGoh are not only fairly intelligent, but also more than capable of making detailed plans and waiting hundreds of trines to see those plans come to fruition.

They are not to be trifled with.

[rwby-redux]

Deconstruction

Worldbuilding: Aura

Our first official foray into the worldbuilding category: Aura. The chakra-like soul-energy that functions as the primary fuel source for Semblances, along with a handful of auxiliary features. Despite arguably being one of the cornerstones of RWBY’s lore, the page for it on the RWBY Wiki is worringly short. Like, no joke, it’s not even 2,000 words long. Suffice to say, that’s not a good sign.

Before we get started, let’s make sure everyone’s on the same page by quickly brushing up on our definitions. Aura is the physical manifestation of one’s soul, depicted as a colored emanation around the user. This effect is first visible when a person engages their Aura, and can be seen again when a person’s Aura is close to depletion. As Aura is drained through taking damage, staving off inclement weather, or using one’s Semblance, it begins to rapidly flicker. Upon depletion, it’s represented as either a full-body shimmering effect or a particle effect with “fragments” of Aura falling away from a person’s body, signifying that they’re susceptible to physical damage. Aura is vital not just for its inherent failsafe against injury, but for the other functions it offers, including: an innate healing factor, thermoregulation, conduction of Aura through inanimate objects, extrasensory perception, and unlocking dormant Auras within others. The only prerequisite for possessing Aura is having a soul, something which all life on Remnant (except for the Grimm) has.

You know, it’s amazing just how convenient Aura is. It almost makes you wonder why

EVERYBODY ON REMNANT HASN’T FUCKING UNLOCKED IT.

Seriously, why didn’t Pyrrha use her fame as a platform to raise public awareness on Aura? We know that trained Huntsmen can unlock them for people who have no prior training (looking at you, Jaune). Couldn’t her manager have found the time in-between signing deals with Pumpkin Pete’s to get a campaign going, so she could be sponsored to travel around the country doing exactly that? Why is 90% of Remnant’s population leaving themselves deliberately vulnerable to Grimm and bandits? Seriously, RWBY, what the fuck?

Sorry. Getting ahead of myself. Deep breaths.

Let’s set aside the histrionics for a moment. Aura as a combat mechanic is pretty ingenious when you think about it. It capitalizes on a pretty well-established trope already found in the genre. If you’ve familiarized yourself with the manga and anime scene in the last decade, chances are you know what Naruto is, even if you’ve never read or watched it. Having a magical soul-powered fuel source already gives you the license to justify all of the crazy acrobatics your cast is going to be doing, and given its parallels to chakra, it isn’t going to require too much explaining to a genre-savvy audience. In theory, anyway.

I think part of the problem is that RWBY’s writing relies a little too heavily on fans having at least a vague pre-established understanding of the concept behind Aura. It lets the show dodge having to answer problems that arise from under-developing its world. Aura’s utility as a combat accessory, coupled with all of the extra functions I mentioned earlier, creates the problem of: If this tool is so useful, why doesn’t everyone have it?

If you’ve never seen Hello Future Me’s video on magic systems, I highly recommend you check it out. Without even mentioning RWBY, he manages to pinpoint the flaw with Aura (and by extension, the common flaw with most fantasy magic systems): differentiating between limitations, weaknesses, and costs.

I’ll let him take over from here:

“The most common form of limitation is a vaguely-defined limit of strength, or training, or mental acumen of the practitioner. Avatar: The Last Airbender is kind of like this. There’s no explicit limit to how much fire a person can conjure, or how strong a wind they can muster, but we know it’s kind of limited by their training, willpower, strength, and talent. Think of it as the rule of: THERE’S ONLY SO MUCH AWESOME ONE HUMAN CAN HANDLE. If you’re really trying to differentiate your hard-magic system from this common trope, then think about not relying on this particular limitation, but maybe something else. Perhaps certain powers can be negated or are affected by certain things in the environment around them, like the moon, certain plants, or minerals. That way, your magician has to be aware of their surroundings at all times, or it can be used against them by their enemies.

Secondly: weaknesses. Weaknesses in magic systems can create interesting dynamics in a story where magic would usually make a character a lot more powerful than those around them. Maybe they can transform into a werewolf at will, but that makes them vulnerable to silver bullets, though, once again, making these limitations to your magic too simple can make them…uninteresting. […] If you have multiple different powers in your story, it could be interesting to have the use of one power making them more vulnerable to another, so your character has to be cautious about using their powers around someone who could take advantage of that. …I personally feel the best magic systems affect the way your characters think or act or change the way your fictional world operates.

Finally and thirdly, perhaps the most common way that people create rules for their magic system is through magic costing something. […] Perhaps the most common magical cost is that of bodily energy. In The Wheel of Time and The Inheritance Cycle, doing something with magic exhausts you, which is fine until you try and be too magically heroic, and you overdose on magical heroin and die.” [1]

Seriously, go watch this guy’s video. He’s great.

With all of that in mind, let’s take his thesis and apply it to Aura:

Does Aura have any limitations? Not really. We’re vaguely told by Kerry Shawcross that it’s possible to increase the amount of Aura a person has, but that it’s “impractical.” Most people try to get more efficient at using Aura instead of trying to get a “bigger gauge.” [2] Unfortunately, the show hasn’t provided any evidence of what “getting more efficient” looks like—whether that’s simply increasing your training, or undertaking a specific kind of training. Is Aura like a muscle that becomes stronger the more you exercise it? We don’t know. The show hasn’t given us a definitive metric for measuring training progress, so it’s up for debate.

Does Aura have any weaknesses? Sort of. You could argue that there’s a trade-off between using your Semblance versus simply relying on Aura to tank hits. A combatant’s innate defense system draws from the same energy source as a Semblance, which could create an interesting choice between offense and defense. Do I rely on my Semblance to win, or should I conserve Aura for other things, like activating Dust or staving off hypothermia? My issue with this being a credible weakness is that we don’t really see characters grapple with this dilemma on-screen. Taiyang tells Yang to decrease her dependency on her Semblance, but that has more to do with Yang’s Semblance enabling an aggressive attack style that gives her opponents more openings, than it does anything to do with conserving Aura for other things. [3]

Does Aura have any costs? That’s a resounding no. A Semblance costs Aura to use, but Aura itself doesn’t demand anything in exchange for activating it.

From every conceivable angle, Aura sounds like a pretty sweet deal. And that’s the problem: there’s no believable in-lore explanation for why the entire world doesn’t simply have a Huntsman unlock it for them.

So how do we rectify this?

What if having an unlocked Aura made a person more likely to attract Grimm? We already know that Grimm track people primarily through detecting negatively-valenced emotions and the presence of nearby souls. If we wanted to give Aura’s aesthetic appearance some more significance beyond simply being cool to look at, what if Grimm can sense that emanation? If a person with a locked Aura is akin to a matchstick, then what if a person with an unlocked Aura looked like a bonfire by comparison? The very tool used to fight Grimm has the drawback of also attracting Grimm, or worse, causing Grimm to prioritize you as a target.

Not only would this give us an answer for why the entire world doesn’t unlock their Auras, but it opens the floodgates for lore and worldbuilding ideas: If unlocked Auras can attract Grimm (even when not in use), do governments have an incentive to regulate how many of its citizens have unlocked Auras? Are only certain members of the population allowed to unlock their Auras, like Huntsmen or soldiers? What happens if you accidentally unlock your Aura? Would the government force you to pay a tax, or make you choose between conscription into either the military or a Huntsman Academy? There’s an entire afternoon’s worth of ethical debates right there.

But let’s say that unlocking your Aura doesn’t attract Grimm, in which case, maybe there’s some sort of societal stigma against it. What if you’re afraid of unlocking your Aura because that means, by extension, opening up the possibility of discovering your Semblance? What if you’re afraid of getting a passive Semblance that causes misfortune? What if you gain a pyrokinetic Semblance that’s hard to control, and without training you run the risk of hurting yourself or others?

We can even take this a step further if we consider how Aura and Semblances can be abused by others. What if at some point in history there was a monarch that would forcibly unlock their citizens’ Auras and force them to serve in their army? Skip forward several generations and picture a well-meaning Huntsman passing through a village. They stop to chat with the locals, and an inquisitive child comes up to them and asks about what it’s like being a Huntsman and having an unlocked Aura. The Huntsman, unaware of the history of the region, offers to unlock the child’s Aura for them. Cue the parents and nearby townsfolk panicking as their thoughts immediately go toward the tyrannical monarch from long ago, and the number of child soldiers forced to bleed for that king.

If we wanted to make Aura inconvenient, we could even introduce Aura- and Semblance-specific diseases transmitted via Grimm. Take a moment to imagine what it would be like if you lived in a world where you never had to worry about getting the flu, as long as you refrained from doing one specific thing. How’s that for an incentive? Now apply that to RWBY, and suddenly there’s a whole list of Grimm-based illnesses that you’re automatically immune to as long as you don’t unlock your Aura.

The possibilities are endless.

With a little creativity it wouldn’t be hard to give realistic, in-world answers for why unlocked Auras aren’t more prevalent: everything from mechanical drawbacks, limitations, weaknesses, risk factors, cultural taboos, stigmas, you name it.

I wanted to complain more about the vagueness of Aura’s healing factor and how it relates to Aura depletion—like how the hell Hazel stabbed himself with Dust crystals while his Aura was still active; wouldn’t the healing factor have caused them to just shoot out of his arms like magical splinters?—but this post is getting long, and I want to wrap things up. I think I’ve made my point.

Join me next time when I put another one of RWBY’s core concepts on the chopping block.

-

[1] Hello Future Me. “On Writing: hard magic systems in fantasy [ Avatar l Fullmetal Alchemist l Mistborn ]” YouTube video.  February 07, 2018. [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iMJQb5bGu_g&list=WL&index=351&t=0s]

[2] Shawcross, Kerry. “CRWBY AMA.” Reddit interview. February 12, 2018. [https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBY/comments/7x3w4s/crwby_ama_w_miles_luna_kerry_shawcross_and_paula/du5bpdm/?context=3]

[3] Volume 4, Episode 9: “Two Steps Forward, Two Steps Back.”

[senadimell]

Hm...Usually love Sanderson but the White Sand novel/la from the newsletter really didn’t do it for me. Spoilers below. ETA: uhh, and a rant. 

This just felt...old. Like I’m getting major Elantris vibes. 

The problem with trying to put so many plot threads is that there were really no red herrings? Drile not being the betrayer was painfully obvious to me because there was zero doubt in Kenton’s mind, so of course it was wrong. As was Acron being more than he seemed--duh, showing someone’s reaction to a pile of CORPSES as “wow, this is neat” immediately checks the “hey this man is suspicious--when’s he going to betray us” box.

The whole Eric plot was really strange and forced to me, then it ends with him knowingly asking his friend to do something that will break him? No explanation, no reconciliation? IDK, just not super satisfying, and I’m usually all for tragedy and pyrrhic endings. 

Then there’s Ais, which was more of the same. The whole book was pretty set on how much he hated Kenton, but since Kenton saving the Diem is the Obvious Goal of the story, that he would eventually turn towards him was a given. This was like what’s his face the militant missionary in Elantris, but less satisfying, which is saying something. 

CANNOT STAND KHRISS/KENTON. Which is probably not a surprise. Any duo whose thoughts read like  “I hate you! Suffering curious woman!” and “I hate you! Maddening barbaric man!” are my guaranteed NOTP. Like…I really can’t imagine ever being attracted to someone that constantly annoys me. I’m not sure I buy opposites attract. Plus, there was very little subtlety in the way they acted around each other. If it weren’t for their screaming thoughts of “why do I care so much about him/her?” I wouldn’t have seen anything resembling romance. 

No, actually, that’s not romance, and it would have been far more romantic to remove all of the thoughts and just show them observing each other and starting to work better together. I’m also kinda unnerved by how they keep doing things to unnerve each other, AKA Kenton using sand to pick Khriss up/knock on her door/etc (then she slaps him, I’m still not down on “well  men slapping women is abuse but women slapping men is Funny”), and Khriss going to spy on the Sand Masters when there’s an explicit reason given why Kenton is opposed. It just feels like they’re ignoring each other’s boundaries. Then on top of that I’m supposed to believe Khriss is just so devoted to her country? She’s not. She wants to prove herself. So doing something in the name of country when I suspect a selfish motivation just rubs wrong. 

Khriss kinda felt like a mashup of Siri and Vivenna, or else Sarene. Kenton felt like a cross between Elend except better at figuring leadership out on his own. 

Called the whole Gevin thing a few chapters before it happened. I did appreciate the single line of internalization that showed he wasn’t just heartless about Khriss, but doing what he thought he had to to make sure she stayed away. 

The whole plot hinged on dramatic irony. The audience knew SO MUCH, and SO MUCH of the personal tension was “I know something you don’t.” The goal-oriented plot was much more fascinating. I was vested in seeing how Kenton convinced people to vote for him, and for what Khriss found out about how sandbending worked. But so much of the plot was “character A knows the answer but character B is asking the wrong question.” I don’t really like “I have a secret plots (so Ais was almost painful to read), and the sheer amount of them was just annoying. 

The unfortunate thing about the Cosmere is that it encourages you to read all of Brandon’s works, and when you do that, you see major trends. Leadership as a burden, including responsibility, compromising some ideals or moral standards, and maintaining an image? Check. Arranged marriage providing plot structure? Check. Very Religious person with a Strong Sense of Justice, an ideological Crisis (and a taboo against entire lifestyle of others?) Check. I Hate My Father and Rebel Against Authority syndrome? (looking at you, Elend and Kenton). (Though I am so glad Brandon doesn’t treat arranged marriages as “Oh NO! an arranged marriage I’ve been expecting my WHOLE life? My entire family who are in their own arranged marriages arranging it for me?! Oh the Shock! The outrage! How Dare they!) Side order of I Like Dressing Pretty and Balls, as well as I look Drunk and hedonistic but I’m actually Shrewd. Not that there’s anything inherently wrong with any of these things, they just come across as repetitive when you read them across many books. 

Very idiosyncratic things only tangentially related to White Sand but that have resurfaced: Brandon drives me crazy every single time he tries to pun. Like, friend, you’ve made it clear that this is Not Earth and these people are speaking Not English and so making puns heavily rooted in English? Stop. Just stop. (side-eyeing Wit and insults/in-sluts. Bad Brandon). Also random peeve is HalfWord capitalization. Also not a huge fan of BioChroma because...meh. Living color. I get it. I feel like his linguistic sensibilities are way better in Stormlight than usual. 

The thing that’s maddening is that it was well-paced and used a mystery structure, so I wasn’t every bored and felt compelled to finish to answer my questions. 

So. Satisfying things. Kenton finding out that just because he can master less sand, he’s still best at one ribbon and there’s not a Magic Power answer. Drile killing himself in the duel via his own personality traits. Dirin getting promoted, plus the re-structuring of the Diem (though if using sand mastery for money is taboo enough that Kenton instinctively reviles against it at the beginning of the book, I’m wondering where the pushback was from the Diem. I guess it’s explained by everyone being young or just siding with Drile?). The Lady judge in general. Delius’ turnaround. 

I...just need to stop now...

[dontmindthefangirling]

Catfish {t.h.}

part 8

gif by @peteparkrrs

Summary: What happens when you start to fall in love with a boy online, completely unaware that it’s Tom Holland behind the computer screen?

Warnings: angst, anxiety

part 7 | series masterlist

-

peter_king liked your post

You felt as though you couldn’t breathe, and suddenly all of the emotions that you were able to move on from came flooding back. Your chest was tight and your vision began to blur as you stared at that one notification, beginning to wonder if you were seeing things or if it was actually real. All you could see was red, and the words began to mold together as you felt a sob start to bubble in your chest. You closed your eyes tightly and forced yourself to hold it back so that you wouldn’t wake Jane, but suddenly you felt like shaking and crying and calling Tom and yelling at him over the phone because how dare he. How dare he like your post, knowing that you would see it and force these emotions to come back and how dare he still look at your posts and your account. 

You put your phone down and closed your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing. By the time you opened your eyes, you realized you had to get out of bed if you wanted to make it to class on time. You forced yourself to jump down from your lofted bed, and your legs felt like lead because all you could think about was Tom looking at your profile and liking your picture. 

Walking slowly, you trudged to your closet and pulled out a pair of leggings and a long-sleeved shirt before slipping on your Converse. Jane was still sleeping soundly, and you figured she wouldn’t be getting up for class for another hour, so you quietly slipped out of your dorm to brush your teeth before heading into the brisk spring morning. 

You put your headphones in, trying to drown out your thoughts with music, but it didn’t help. You were finally able to push Tom out of your mind and your life, only feeling pain when you saw his face on movie posters, but this was a whole new type of pain. This was like you were back in your room at home, crying on the phone while Tom tried to apologize to you, and you hung up on him before he could. 

You shook your head, turning your music up louder as tears brimmed your eyes. You had to focus on class, but so many different emotions were coursing through your body that you felt like you were going to explode. You quickened your pace, hoping that once you were in the academic building you could focus on your classwork instead of Tom. 

But as soon as you sat down in your seat of the large lecture hall, you felt suddenly and completely lost. Every guy who walked in, you were expecting it to be Tom, and you tried to pick out his distinctive English accent among the low murmurs of students, but when you realized what you were doing, you knew it was crazy. 

You ran a hand through your hair, tugging at it as you felt like you were going insane as Tom was able to have such an effect on you from one click of a button. The more you thought about it, the more pent up you got, and before you knew it you were shaking in your seat. 

You grabbed your bag and briskly walked out of the lecture hall. 

Once you were in the hallway you pulled out your phone and logged back into Tumblr, scrolling through your notifications to see if it was real or if you were imagining things, but once you saw the notification again, your heart began going through a gymnastics routine. 

You quickly clicked on his account, and wrote him a long and detailed message. 

-I don’t know what your angle is, but why are you going through my Tumblr? In fact, why are you even on my account in the first place? Didn’t you cause me enough pain and-

You froze your fingers when a group of students walked by, and their words caught your attention. 

“Did you hear that the new Marvel cast is doing a group interview in the city?” one of them said. 

“Yeah, I heard the Spider-Man cast is going to be there!” a girl exclaimed. 

“Wait you mean, like Tom Holland? He’s literally so cute,” another one chimed. 

“Yes! They’re selling tickets at the campus center to the first one-hundred students, and then they’re shuttling them to the city,” the first guy said. 

You froze as their voices got out of earshot and you stared at them. Tom was here. He was in your city and granted the city was an hour away from your campus but he was here. 

He was an hour away.

You practically ran to the campus center, disregarding the message you were in the middle of typing. 

-

“You alright, mate? You seem distracted,” Harrison said, coming up behind Tom as they sat in Tom’s dressing room. They were getting ready for the press interview that was taking place in a few hours, and by getting ready that mostly consisted of them lounging on the couches playing Cup Pong on their phones with each other. 

“Huh?” Tom asked, looking up at his friend. Harrison narrowed his eyes at Tom, watching him from across the room.

“Yeah, fine,” Tom murmured, swiping his finger as the fake ping pong ball flew through the screen. 

Harrison knew Tom was lying, but he didn’t know why. 

Tom knew they were in your home state. He knew you were in this state, and he hadn’t thought of you in days, maybe even weeks, but when the press tour was scheduled to be in your state’s capital city, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you’d show up. 

Even if you didn’t, Tom was pretty sure this was the closest he had ever been to you, physically, and he just kept wondering how far away you really were. He wished you were still in contact. 

He wished he never lied to you. 

“Bro, you suck at this game,” Harrison laughed as Tom missed every single cup he threw the ping pong ball at. Tom rolled his eyes and threw a small pillow at Harrison. 

-

You stared out the window of the coach bus filled with other college students as they were buzzing about potentially being able to ask questions to the cast of Spider-Man, but all you could think about was being close to Tom, seeing him in person, and yelling at him. 

You watched as the bus entered the city, and you looked down at your phone realizing that you had several missed texts from Jane asking where you were. You sighed as you told her quickly that you’d be back later tonight and you’d keep her updated.

You had no idea how you hadn’t heard about the promotion your university was doing for the Spider-Man cast, but you figured it had to do with your obvious and vigorous avoidance of anything even slightly Marvel related. 

As you watched the buildings grow taller and the trees get scarcer, you began to second guess your impulsive decision, and wondered if you could possibly run and hide. 

What were you thinking? You were probably going to see Tom in person and that was going to hurt your heart more than any like he could possibly give you on Tumblr. What were you possibly thinking?

You quickly called Laura, hoping she wasn’t in class. 

“Hello?” she picked up almost instantly. 

“Laura, I made a mistake,” you almost cried, leaning your head against the cold window of the bus. 

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong, what’s going on?” Laura asked frantically. 

“I...I, uh, I got on a bus,” you began. “To...to go see Tom.”

Laura was silent for a moment, and then you heard her let out a deep breath. 

“Could you explain more, please?” Laura sighed. 

“My school was giving away one hundred tickets to students to go into the city to a live group interview with the Spider-Man: Homecoming cast,” you said in one quick breath. 

“And you went?” Laura asked. 

“Yeah, I’m on the bus right now.”

More silence came from the other line and you closed your eyes as you were expecting Laura to yell at you and tell you how stupid you were for getting on that bus. 

“Why would you do that, (Y/N),” Laura said heavily. “You know it’s just going to hurt you.”

“I know,” you murmured. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“What are you going to do?” Laura asked. 

You inhaled sharply as you looked out the window again, realizing that you were actually now in the city, which meant Tom was minutes away. 

“I don’t know,” you said. 

The bus turned down a smaller street, and the chatter among the students began to become more excited as the bus began to slow down. 

“I have to go,” you whispered. “I think we’re here.”

“Keep me updated, please,” Laura pleaded.

“I will, love you.”

“Love you too.”

You clicked your phone shut and stood from your seat with the rest of the students. Your heart was hammering against your chest and you tried to steady your steps as you followed a line of students off the bus into the warm air. The skyscrapers loomed over you like they were waiting for your next move, and the wind pushed your hair out of your face. 

You looked up and read the signs promoting Spider-Man: Homecoming and that’s when you saw the crowd of fans standing outside of a tall building across the street. They were holding posters, calling out names of the cast members, and holding objects that they were hoping would get signed. 

You felt like you were walking through Jell-O as you crossed the street with your fellow classmates, and your legs suddenly felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each as you stepped closer to the building that held Tom. Paparazzi were to your left, their cameras ready, and that’s when you knew it was real. They were in that building. 

“I’m so excited, do you think Zendaya will sign my hat?” a girl next to you squealed. 

“I want Tom to sign my poster.”

“I want to see Jacob!”

Every voice became muffled as you stared at the doors. Apparently all the fans were going to wait to see the stars come out, they were going to say hi, and then everyone with tickets was going to go inside for the interview. 

Every time the door opened, revealing someone who wasn’t in the cast, your heart would pick up speed and then crash back down. You didn’t know what would happen when they walked out-

Suddenly, the screaming of fans was so loud that you couldn’t hear a thing. Zendaya walked out first, followed by Jacob. 

And then he was there. 

You felt yourself drifting through the crowd like you were in a dream, making your way closer to the front as your vision tunneled and all you could see was Tom smiling and waving to the fans. You couldn’t even feel the people pushing around you because you felt like you were in a trance. You didn’t even know if you were breathing, and your blood was pulsing in your veins being the only sound you could hear. Everything else was muted. 

He was right in front of you. 

-

A wave of euphoria washed over Tom as he waved to fans, saying an infinite amount of ‘I love yous’ as he walked towards them and signed some of the objects they brought.

He turned and a girl in the front caught his eye. She was staring at him, wide-eyes, and her mouth slightly ajar like she was in shock. From where he stood, Tom could see the way her fingers trembled along the fence. She wasn’t screaming his name like the others, she wasn’t crying, she wasn’t even smiling. She just looked as though she were in complete and utter shock. Almost like she was in a trance. 

He had never seen a picture of you during the time you two had been talking, but he knew in that instant, that had to be you.

Suddenly, everything else around him was drowned away by his own heart beat and he walked slowly towards you. 

As he got closer, the color drained in your face. The fans around you began crying and shouting louder as he approached them, but he was only focused on one of them. 

Once he was close enough, tears suddenly brimmed your eyes and you took a step back as he took a step forward. You were right in front of him. 

“(Y/N)?” Tom asked. He hadn’t spoken your names in months, and hearing it against his tongue felt so foreign but so right at the same time and when your face broke at his voice, he knew it was you.

“It’s you,” you cried.

Hearing your voice, hearing it in person, hearing it right in front of him sent a flood of emotions running through his entire body. How could he forget your voice? He fell in love with it. The rest of the world was suddenly blurred, and all he could see was you. You were more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t stop staring as you stared right back. The world was melting around the two of you, and your hearts were beating so loudly you were both sure the other could hear it even over all of the fans. He could still see your hands trembling, and now Tom’s own were shaking. In fact, his whole body felt like it was shaking. 

Tears suddenly began to fall from your eyes, and it broke Tom in more ways than one because he knew he was the cause of your tears. 

“Tom, we have to go inside,” Harrison said, coming next to him. Tom wanted to say no, he wanted to grab your hand and take you some place quiet and just finally talk to you. 

Before he could respond, security was whisking him away and into the building. But his eyes never left you until the door was shut behind him. 

-

You watched as Tom was brought to the door by security, but he stumbled over his own feet as he tried to continue to stare at you. Once the door was shut behind him, the yelling of the crowd began to simmer down as fans were lined up to enter the building. 

You were frozen. You felt like your feet were glued to the cement. He saw you. He saw you. And he knew it was you. He remembered your voice.

The way the look in his eyes changed so dramatically when he heard you speak just confirmed that he knew it was you. 

You were pulled from your dream-like state when one of the security guards asked to see your ticket to get inside. You fumbled to pull out the ticket from your pocket and handed it to him, but you felt so completely dizzy and not yourself that your vision was blurry as you took the ticket back. 

“Right this way!” one of the security guards said, leading the line of fans through the same doors that Tom had just entered along with the rest of the cast. 

You inhaled sharply as you tried to clear your mind, hoping that you didn’t look too out of it. You thought about calling Laura, but you didn’t think your fingers would stop shaking by then.

You took another deep breath and entered the building. 

-

whoop whoop they met :)

btw, I think I got everyone who asked to be on the taglist, but if I didn’t, just let me know and I’ll add you!

part 9 

taglist:

@slythxr // @greenarrowhead // @your-daily-dose-of-fangirl // @loxbbg // @didanyonesaybuckybarnes // @strang-ersclub // @roaringgoodshow // @skeletalwolfcat // @peterbrokenparker // @jackiehollanderr // @krispykreeme // @eye-of-the-owl // @  eternal-l-appel-du-vide // @lifeandloveandhappiness // @16wiishes // @snifelisnifsnif // @fxded-jackgyeom // @dxftprettyboys // @spookyconsultingcriminal // @yourwonderbelle // @too-much-spidey // @savethebabyseals // @apseventy // @starkslovebot // @binaruma// @lifeisabitchandsoareyou // @iloveyouthreethousand-o6 // @just-a-littlebit-of-everything // @sweetcoldpeach // @spideyyeet // @mlt2000 // @ being-your-average-fangirl // @asmilinghopelessromantic // @clairestarkparker // @ thedaydreamingwriter // @itsmejessicasstuff // @queenattentionseeker // @huiqingohuiqing // @thedanteofthe52ndstreet // @coach-vixen // @sweet-sunflower-ghost // @trust-me-im-joly // @stickyqueenbouquetsstuff // @americaswritings // @euphoniumpets // @gwiyomi-princess-trash // @pixiedustsupplyco // @nerdypisces160 // @yeahimcrying// @thenaturalbond // @cookinggurl43 // @rageyoudamnednerd // @bibliophilesquared // @stickyqueenbouquetsstuff // @justanormaltrashcan // @aestheticgaybish // @jackiehollanderr // @spidreling // @adi-angel // @multific //