#every so often I'm like uhhhh maybe i should reach out and see if he's ready to be a decent and respectful person

[thedreadvampy]

Re some family happenings over Christmas: there is not a single situation where it's a Not Evil thing to do to keep dragging a dog towards you to hit it. It's maybe particularly egregious if the dog doesn't belong to you and its owner is telling you to stop doing that, but there's literally no excuse anyway. If you're in your late 60s and underweight and the dog is an energetic young boxer-bulldog cross it could also be a terminally stupid thing to do, unless you actually want to get maimed and have your son's dog put down.

anyway this winter I'm feeling particularly validated in my division not to offer my dad an olive branch because in the 4 1/2 years since I cut contact with him it doesn't sound like he's become any less unpleasant to be around.

[nonspaced]

A TALE OF TWO SHEILAS !!!

When I first started playing FF14, it was with my friend Jenn. I made a Xaela lancer, and they made a Miqo'te archer. The game didn't really grab either of us at the time, so our characters barely made it out of Gridania before we stopped playing.

A few months later, my friend Jack expressed interest in giving FF14 a try because it was on sale. We decided to make our OCs that we were roleplaying here on tumblr in FFXIV (Sheila and Atticus) and.... Jack really took a shine to the game, but it still didn't grab me.

My issue was the fact that Sheilas as a general rule cannot do magic (not in the way that magic is often portrayed.... what Sheila has going on is more akin to quantum physics, though the distinction is sometimes tenuous), so she felt really out place in a world where almost everyone uses magic to some degree in their everyday lives.

Since she never felt like she fit into the world of FF14, I lost interest in playing and joked that the reason FF14 Sheila never "felt like a true Sheila" was because she was actually dead, and her corpse had been possessed by an Ascian the whole time.

I later tried to play through the game on two other characters (Shirin and Saoirse) but ARR was such an utter slogfest that I lost interest both times right around the part where you need to rescue Minfilia from Castrum Centri.

Shadowbringers came out later that year, and Jack told me I should give the game another try because the story got REALLY GOOD and included a few key themes that were already present in Sheila's original canon (immortality, alternate timelines, traveling to different realities, etc) ... so I decided to give the game one more try, remade Sheila, and committed myself to reaching Shadowbringers so I could see what all the praise was about.

During my playthrough, I revisited the idea of Sheila being possessed by an Ascian, and I liked the idea enough that I decided to canonize the first Sheila I originally made in FF14. She's known as Alpha Sheila, who lived for an indeterminate period of time during the events of ARR and died executing her very own unique limit break. A curious Ascian who had taken notice of her immortality and incredible potential behind her limit break decided to take up residence in her freshly vacant corpse so he could try to solve the mystery of her abilities and use them to travel to an alternate reality where his civilization remained unsundered.

The current Sheila I play is known as Beta Sheila who has absolutely no idea that there was ever a previous Sheila on the Source. Two Sheilas can't coexist at the same point in time and/or space, nor are any of the Sheilas consciously aware that there are, in fact, Multiple Sheilas out there scattered throughout time & space (essentially one for every fandom I ever wrote in 🤷‍♀️). ... but when it's the corpse of a Sheila being controlled by someone else and therefore Not Sheila... *X-Files theme* 👽

Somewhere out there is the body of the previous Sheila, still inhabited by a very nice Ascian man, although I have no idea what he's up to post-Endwalker...

ALL OF THIS TO SAY I've always been charmed by the idea of characters who knew Alpha Sheila later meeting Beta Sheila and not realizing the Sheila they're speaking to now is an entirely different Sheila. And she'd be freaked out by the fact they recognize her and know things about her, because she would know if she had been here before and met them.

Or maybe they do eventually figure out this Sheila is different than the one they knew and have no idea what to do with this information.

alas, that involves roleplaying, and uhhhh i'm too chickenshit to really put Sheila out there for FF14 rp after what i've experienced here on tumblr orz

[sopebubbles]

Chapter Twelve

Summary: How many men will it take to save you? To be honest, you’ve gotten pretty used to saving yourself. Even though you’re far from a delicate thing, Los Angeles is a dangerous place you can’t seem to escape no matter how hard you try. The top 7 members of Bangtan should never have crossed your path, but they soon find they’d do just about anything to help you escape your past and make it safe for you to stay. But will you?

Genre: mafia au, poly ot7, angst, some smut, honestly a lot more fluff than i expected, POC reader/oc

A/n: heyooooo!! I am very happy to be posting this in full. I almost broke the chapter up because I didn't think that all the parts would be ready. As we move forward, please let me know if you prefer long chapters less frequently or short chapters more frequently. Maybe it won't be a problem at all, but I'm starting school again so I'm worried about managing my free time. We're not caught up to what's written yet but we might be soon *cue JAWS theme*

*cue record scratch*

*cue Looney Tunes theme* Th-th-th-th-that's all, folks. Thank you for reading and enjoy the update! ^_^

Warnings: language, gun violence/blood...I think that's the only real warning but uhhhh......buckle up....

Word count: 8K

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Yoongi woke up extra early the following morning. Ever since he had felt you so close to him, he felt like every nerve in his body was a livewire. Seeing the life within you and witnessing the depth of your strength in such small and intimate ways was one thing. Maybe, at first, he could have blamed his protective energy on his profession. You needed his tenderness and care and he was more than willing to give it. But this–this was something different. These weren’t just tender, warm, melt-inside-you kind of emotions. These were burning and aching, wanting to taste the salt of your skin emotions that Yoongi had never known before. If he had convinced himself before that his feelings for you amounted to fondness only, he was now acutely aware of what a shallow attempt it was to placate the ferocity of his desire. How was he going to contain himself in your presence knowing now what it feels like to have the curve of your ass press against him as you wiggle against Jimin unconsciously? How had he survived dinner last night, with you so close to him, knowing how much of you he wanted? And knowing that he would give even more of himself, give himself a hundred times over, to have you in his arms? 

Yoongi wondered if you were still sleeping. His thoughts carelessly wandered away from him and into your bed where you’d let him press against you once again, moving hair away from your ear so he could whisper all the secrets of his heart to you and press his lips against your neck. He knew you needed your space. He knew you needed to invite him in. He knew he would never push you past what you were comfortable with, but if you would, if you could let him in, he knew what he’d find in your arms, what you were both looking for and what he hoped you might feel with him…home.

“Thinking about Val?” Jungkook called out.

Yoongi didn’t even realize he had made it to the kitchen, didn’t even see Namjoon and Jungkook at the breakfast table, sitting close with legs intertwined, clearly sharing an intimate moment that Yoongi had interrupted.

“Sorry,” Yoongi mumbled, reaching for the coffee. Namjoon scooted closer to Jungkook, pulling him on the side so that he could rest his head on his shoulder. Jungkook smiled and kissed the top of his head. They weren’t a couple that often displayed their affection. Not like Hoseok and Seokjin who were nearly inseparable. Namjoon valued personal space and privacy too much. Jungkook and Namjoon had separate rooms, though they were next to each other, but even still Jungkook occasionally would skip the comfort of his bed to sleep outside by the pool on cool nights. Jungkook liked his freedom and Namjoon respected that. Having an open relationship worked well for both of them.  

Yoongi was one of the rare people, even within Bangtan’s inner circle, who Namjoon felt comfortable showing his attachment to Jungkook. They had grown up together as kids, Yoongi suffering the same control issues from his father that Namjoon did his. They had also lost both of their fathers the same night several years ago; an event that left Namjoon in charge and many people within the organization feeling bewildered but relieved. Neither of them talked about their past much. There wasn’t a need to. They understood each other, they trusted each other, and that was enough. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Namjoon said, letting Jungkook wrap his arm around him and trace designs into his shoulder. “We were thinking about her too.”

“Everyone’s thinking about her,” Yoongi acknowledged, swirling his coffee idly even though there was no cream in it.

“That’s probably true,” Namjoon agreed.

“She’s sexy,” Jungkook admitted, no hint of shame in his face.

Namjoon hummed, “That’s definitely true.”

Yoongi wondered if he should feel jealous of these men who could easily talk about how sexy you were. But the truth was, he understood it. He couldn’t blame them for wanting you in the exact way he did. Though he wondered, maybe selfishly, if anyone else experienced the same degree of torrid longing he did.

“I don’t want to scare her,” Yoongi sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’m afraid of how much I want her.”

Namjoon leaned away from Jungkook, considering his friend carefully, “Have you ever had sexual feelings before, hyung?”

“I thought so,” Yoongi shook his head. “It wasn’t like this. It was never like this.”

There was a girl in college that he enjoyed. But that was it. He enjoyed her. He was happy with her, but he was happy without her. When they had slept together, it was nice, but Yoongi didn’t feel any great desire for it. He didn’t mind meeting her needs, but sex and attraction just weren’t that interesting to him.

Yoongi took another long sip of his coffee, contemplating how overwhelming it might be for you not only to receive his affection, but the affections of every man in Bangtan. What would it take for you to accept that seven different men would do anything for you? How could he or anyone convince you that every part of you was worth being accepted and cherished and praised and adored and loved?

But with you, just holding your hand was enough to keep Yoongi awake for hours at night, “It’s hard to hold myself back.”

Jungkook puffed out a laugh, “If by ‘hold yourself back’ you mean you want to stare at her like a lost puppy dog and not like some kind of wild animal that is going to mount her and breed her for your own pleasure, then I think you’re fine.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, “Not everyone is as kinky as we are, Jungkook.”

Yoongi hoped his friends didn’t catch the shiver that ran down his spine at the suggestion.

“I’m just saying you come across as kind and patient and maybe a little mopey and everyone knows you’re in love with her, but you don’t come across as intense as you make yourself sound,” Jungkook explained. 

“Val will make her own decisions,” Namjoon advised. “The members will support what she wants.”

“We lost him again,” Jungkook mumbled with a nudge to Namjoon, who smiled light-heartedly at his lover.

“Sorry,” Yoongi repeated. “I was just thinking about how hard it will be for her to accept that we genuinely care about her.”

“I know,” Namjoon nodded. “But she’ll make that discovery in her own time. We know how special she is, so she’ll see it too. Even if she’ll need our help pointing it out to her.”

“She doesn’t even have to be with me, I just want her to be happy,” Yoongi’s vision blurred with his admission, but no tears fell. As far as he was concerned, you didn’t have to be with anyone from Bangtan as long as you learned to love yourself the way you deserved to be loved.

What she wants. 

“Her wound is looking good and she’s getting stronger every day. I think some light exercise will be good for her.”

Yoongi realized there was something you wanted desperately and while he couldn’t offer it to you, he knew someone who could, “Jungkook, do you think you could teach Val some low-impact exercises?”

“She’s cleared for training?” Jungkook asked, surprised.

Yoongi thought back to how your shirt lifted as you snuggled against Jimin, your caramel skin exposed and allowing him to catch a glimpse of the way his stitches were nearly healed. He had gently adjusted your shirt, knowing how you were modest about exposing yourself, making you moan against Jimin in your sleep. Yoongi and Jimin had shared a pained look, but kept completely still, not wanting to risk waking you up further. Yoongi cleared his throat.

“Anything for my lovesick hyung.”

“Pilates might be good,” Jungkook wondered out loud. He looked to his partner who nodded in agreement. “Okay, yeah, I can do that.”

“Thanks, Jungkook.”

You had slept in that morning, making it into your bed late after countless rounds of Mario Kart. It was hard to leave the warmth of Jimin and Taehyung, but you weren’t going to ask them to cuddle you all night long. Eventually they’d get tired of you, so you politely took your leave once your eyes started to get heavy. But, despite your drowsiness, you tossed and turned all night, leaving you cranky.

Jungkook found you in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge, “Hey, Val! Do you–”

“Would it kill you guys to have some chorizo around here?” you asked, slamming the fridge shut with a heavy sigh after settling for a yellow yogurt drink you had grown to like since living here.

Jungkook considered a moment. “I can have Jin-hyung make some Korean Army Stew.”

“Does it have chorizo?” you asked skeptically.

“No,” Jungkook conceded. “But it does have some spicy sausage.”

“Hmm,” you pouted as you downed your yogurt, not seeming to notice the way some spilled out the corner of your mouth. Jungkook did his best to keep from laughing. Clearly, not being able to work out was souring your mood, but he couldn’t deny that he found your morning grumpiness endearing. You probably had a lot of excess energy you needed to release. He imagined a morning when he might be able to help you with that. A morning when maybe you wouldn’t mind if he snuck up beside you to lick away the extra yogurt as an excuse to kiss you. A morning when he could sit you up on the counter or hold you against a wall while he rutted against you and hear you beg for more, a morning he could–

“You guys eat a lot of stew,” you said absently as you tossed away the yogurt and wiped the side of your mouth. “Do you have a reason for bothering me?”

“Do you feel like working out?” Jungkook accepted being pulled away from his fantasies if it meant he could give you some good news.

“No me engañas,” You scoffed, but you were unable to hide the excitement in your voice. “You know that Yoongi won’t let me train.”

“Not train, per say. But we can definitely work to keep you strong. That is if you don’t mind learning some new–”

“I’m in. What do I need?” Your administrative tone caught Jungkook by surprise. 

“Just your body. And some clothes you can stretch in.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Stretch?”

“Trust me, you’ll be convinced that it’s enough.”

At first you weren’t. The movements Jungkook showed you were regular stretches and exercises you’d use to get warmed up for boxing and your body was itching for something more. Jungkook sensed your restlessness and started suggesting more advanced poses and techniques, using your body weight to both keep yourself centered and lift yourself off the ground. Soon enough, you were working up a sweat and feeling giddy at the ache in your muscles as your body strained against itself.

“Slowly,” Jungkook stressed as he watched you do lunge squats. “You think that by doing it faster, it means you’re stronger, but your body has to work harder when your movements are controlled. Make your body work.”

“Make you work,” You grumbled, incoherently.

“What was that?” Jungkook asked, raising his pierced eyebrow at you amusingly. 

“You could work out too, you know,” you suggested, trying hard to keep your movements slow and deliberate despite your back-talking.

“Do you want me to work up a sweat too?” Jungkook smiled playfully.

“Solidarity is important in an institution like this,” you asserted. 

“Joon,” Jungkook greeted the leader with a smile, staying on his back as he wiped sweat from his brow, you rising and falling on his chest with heavy breaths.

Jungkook threw his head back in a gleeful chuckle before kneeling down on the ground in front of you, “I’m more than happy to work with you. Grab your left elbow with your right hand, and my right elbow with your left hand,” he instructed. Your arms made a square between you as he matched your movements of rising and falling with your squats. “Breathe. We’re not in competition with one another, the goal is to make fluid movements.”

He knew as soon as he said competition, it was a mistake, as you immediately started pushing toward him. He pushed back, struggling to keep his balance, “Wait, Val…Wait…”

It was too late, you had already tumbled on top of him, laughing wildly at your success of making him lose his balance. You didn’t even mind how his arms wrapped around you to prevent you from hitting the ground, in your eyes you had won and that was all that mattered.

Jungkook couldn’t help but also fall into a fit of laughter, half from the ridiculousness of the situation and half at how happy he was to have you so close and carefree.

There was a creak on the other side of the room. 

“We have to go,” Namjoon announced, trying to keep his focus sharp despite how beautiful you and Jungkook looked, sweaty and tangled up with each other. If circumstances weren’t so dire, he would– “Some jjapsae have been sniffing around some of our warehouses. I think they’ve been tipped off.”

Your stomach dropped, you knew this was La Familia’s doing. You shuffled to your feet, trying to fight off the guilt gnawing away at you. “I can help,” you said, looking Namjoon in the eye.

The leader looked you over seriously, more for his own benefit than for yours, his eyes lingering on the way your shorts hugged your hips. But the fact of the matter was, he couldn’t let you walk into danger like that, with or without your injuries still healing. “You know I can’t do that,” he reasoned. “Even if I didn’t think this was a set up, Yoongi would have my head for putting you in action before you're cleared.”

“If you know it’s a set up, then why do you have to go?” You hated the ache in your voice. It betrayed everything you had built in your life about who you were. You had no one in your life to love and rely on other than yourself. So what if the men who opened their home to you and treated you like one of their own were in trouble because of you? Your goal was survival. Your goal was freedom. Following Bangtan into a potential turf fight gave you neither of those things. If they wanted to act out foolishly on your behalf that was their concern, not yours. Right?

“I’m not leaving my men and women out there to get arrested or killed,” Namjoon explained. “I would never put someone else in danger I’m not willing to put myself in.”

Your mind flitted over to Joaquin and all his talks of power and loyalty you had heard over the years. He had never once put action behind his words. He always made sure that someone else got their hands dirty so that he could walk away clean and unscathed. He would have jumped at the offer to use you for his business purposes. That is, if he didn’t have other ideas on how to use you…

You shook the thought out of your head, not wanting to get lost in your emotions while you needed to stay present for the night’s events. “What kind of weapons will we need?” Jungkook’s question brought you back to the moment at hand. Namjoon considered a moment before saying, “The usual stuff, maybe some explosives. I don’t want to lose any product, but if things escalate we might need to get rid of some evidence.” 

You weren’t expecting to run into Hoseok on your way to reach Yoongi. Hoseok had been turning the corner too quickly for you to prevent your collision. His eyes were hard as he steadied you. “Oh,” was all you could manage. You had learned that Hoseok had two modes: playful and deadly. And he was currently operating out of the latter. The look in his eyes made you take a step back subconsciously. 

Jungkook nodded, “I’ll have Taehyung pack some flame retardant suits.” He looked to you meaningfully, knowing you well enough now to know that you wouldn’t sit idly by when something like this was occurring. “You can let Yoongi know what’s happening and help him prepare medical supplies. If this goes as south as we think it might, he’ll have some burn injuries to tend to before the end of the night.” The warning didn’t make you feel better about the circumstances, but you were grateful to have a task.

“Entiendo,” You said, moving quickly to find Yoongi and leave Namjoon and Jungkook behind, not trusting the way your stomach was bubbling with concern for them. 

He blinked at you, not saying anything but seeming to register your thoughts. He relaxed his expression, tension leaving his shoulders as he looked to you with sincerity, “You’ll be staying here tonight?”

You sighed, unease leaving you for frustration instead, “Boss’ orders.”

“I’m glad,” Hoseok said with an easy smile on his face.

“I’m not,” you grumbled, the anxiety making you edgy. There was nothing you could say or do to make them stay, but there was also no reason that you should want them to stay. This was their way of life. One you were familiar with. You told yourself that your stomach being in knots was because you were being excluded from the action.

“Is it so hard to believe that Bangtan wants to keep you safe?”

“Is it so hard to believe I'm not una niña patética e indefensa?” You spat, feeling sorry and hurt as you heard your harsh tone but not being able to stop yourself.

Hoseok turned a bright crimson, not knowing what you said but understanding the force behind your words. He didn’t want to make you angry. If things were his way, he would have the time to make you see how your worth did not depend on being useful to others. But he didn’t have time, and truth be told, he knew from his own experience that being useful was the best protection against feeling useless. He wished he could tell you what it was like on the other side of that, but even circumstances weren’t dire, he wasn’t sure if he could say it in English the way he truly meant it.

You didn’t want to be here anymore, so you turned your heel and headed toward the supply room. Hoseok sighed, wishing he had more time with you, but knowing he needed to return to the task at hand. His priority was getting to the docks before the others to survey the situation. He left quickly and silently, the severity returning to his face.

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok said, looking you in the eye. He hoped that on some level you would understand the depth of what he was apologizing for.

“Whatever,” you scoffed, internally cringing at your callousness. Would Hoseok be okay? Would you get to kiss him again?  “At least tell me where Yoongi is.”

“He’s in the supply room,” Hoseok responded. 

Yoongi was already aware of the situation when you reached him in the supply room, loading a cart with blood bags, saline solution, and humidifiers.

“What are those for?” You asked, pointing to the humidifiers. You could guess the rest.

“If they have to use explosives, there’s a good chance people will end up with burns,” Yoongi explained. “Even third degree burns heal best in a humid environment.”

You shivered at the thought, “What can I do?”

“Sure,” you said, kneeling to rummage through a series of bottles. The gibberish on the bottles didn’t make any sense to you. “What color are they?”

“There are some water soluble antibiotics on the bottom shelf over there behind the morphine, can you grab some?”

His phone rang, “Yeoboseyo.”

“They’re the orange bottles, kind of see-through. They’re behind those white containers,” Yoongi paused. “Actually, take those white containers too, I don’t know if I have enough morphine in the clinic.”

“Where do you get all this from?”

“I have a friend at a hospital in the area,” Yoongi disclosed, loading on the final humidifier before adding, “Well, several. I have several friends at several hospitals in several areas.”

“Ne, ne,” Yoongi tucked his phone between his ear and shoulder, gesturing with his head for you to follow him as he made his way to the clinic. He was silent for a long time and you didn’t bother trying to understand the Korean on the other end of the phone, but when you reached the clinic Yoongi looked at you seriously, “Ne. Josimhae.”

“Oh, fuck,” You gasped. 

“What’s going on?” You asked as you helped Yoongi unpack his cart. You had become pretty familiar with the layout of his office. You weren’t really sure what everything was, but you could easily match up the bottles with those that looked similar and the gauze and bandages were simple enough to distinguish. Yoongi was working quickly, clearly used to the rhythm of events that were unfolding, “That was Jin-hyung. He and Hoseok just arrived at the docks to survey the situation. The cops somehow made their way inside the warehouse and are taking pictures for evidence.”

“Hoseok will take them out.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but smile at your knee-jerk reaction, “There’s only two cops. As long as we get rid of the evidence on their phone, it’ll be fine. And worst case scenario, Jin is good at making things look like an accident.”

“What about the cops?”

“What if they call for backup?”

“They’ll only do that if they see us coming.”

“Won’t they?” You stopped unloading the supplies so you could study Yoongi’s face. You couldn’t explain the reason why you needed reassurance for everyone’s safety in this moment. You had never needed it before. Not for yourself or anyone else. You trusted Yoongi; trusted him in the way that he touched you gently during examinations and never more than he needed to; trusted the way he gave careful consideration to what you like and don’t like; trusted him in the tenderness he shared whenever he looked at you. But right now you needed to know if you could trust him with something else entirely–honesty when you felt insecure and out of control.

The smirk on Yoongi’s face was exactly what you needed to give you confidence when he replied, “Looks like you still have a lot to learn about Bangtan.”

“This is all we have to do?” The cop speaking had a wiry, gray mustache. His face looked too small for its features, mustache seeming to cover half of his face and wide, doe-like eyes with thick, wiry eyebrows to match. His tone was mocking, pleased even, as he took several photos of Bangtan’s contraband items. The warehouse was down by the docks near a garbage barge, an area that cops normally would have no reason to patrol. Most of the warehouses around here sat empty for long periods of time and without people or product; why would they waste their time?

Wiry sighed angrily, “What?”

Unless they get tipped off by a rival gang.

“It seems too easy,” his partner was nervous, pale and clean shaven. His eyes were sunken and sullen despite his youthful appearance.

Hoseok was watching them from the shadows of the catwalk overhead, keeping his footsteps silent as they traveled through the storage facility. He snuck in using the vents so that the cops wouldn’t be alerted to his arrival. If the cops had bothered to look up, they might have noticed the shine of his eyes like a jaguar on the hunt, movements just as fluid and deadly.

Truth be told, Hoseok did feel bad for the men. It was common practice to keep cops on your payroll. Usually, organizations did their research to see which cops might be the most susceptible to bribes. Did they have a history of being corrupt? Did they have secrets that could be used for blackmail? Did they have financial trouble? If the answer was yes to any of these questions, then they’d be approached by someone random, maybe at the grocery store, maybe at the DMV, with an envelope full of directions, cash and a meeting time. If they showed, then the organization would explain the terms of the agreement which would start simply as “Just take the money.”

That was the thing about bribes. Most of the time, there was nothing asked in return. Which made the deal too good to be true. Why not take a bunch of cash when the alternative is threat of exposure or financial ruin? The catch is…one day, we will need you. And on that day, you better do what we ask. Only rule? Don’t ask questions. The tasks were normally simple too. Maybe you’re asked to slow down a response to a distress call. Maybe you’re asked to shred an unknown document. Maybe you’re asked to take pictures at a random warehouse. Fulfill the assignment and you still get your payments.

It’s just business.

“How much more is there?” Sullen asked, looking around like he sensed Hoseok’s eyes on them.

“This is the last row,” Wiry growled, seemingly annoyed by his nervous companion. “You don’t have to be so worked up. This is a criminal organization, too, you know. We’ll be department heroes for turning in all this evidence. No need to have a guilty conscience.”

“It’s not my conscience I’m worried about,” Sullen mumbled, turning to look at something on his phone.

Hoseok smirked. If he was in one of those Marvel movies Jungkook likes to watch he’d jump down and say, “No, I’m the one you’re worried about.” But it would be better for everyone if he went undetected. He had been thinking about you and your aversion to killing. He could easily knock these guys out without being noticed, destroy their phones and dump them on the garbage barge. That would be enough to scare them away from coming back here and Joaquin would know that Bangtan was onto his tricks.

“Hey, look at this,” Sullen said, holding his phone up for Wiry to see.

“We have a profile on this guy for Bangtan.”

“So?” Wiry asked, eager to get to the point.

“He’s also in the system for La Familia and The Triads.” The hair on Hoseok’s neck stood up.

“Oh?” Wiry snatched the phone from Sullen. “Do you think Moreno knows about this?”

“Wouldn’t he have mentioned it if he did?” Sullen snapped, taking his phone back from Wiry’s grubby fingers.

The ends of Wiry’s mustache twisted upward in a devilish grin, “We’ll definitely get a bonus for this.”

Hoseok crouched to see the photo on the phone. His stomach dropped when his suspicions were confirmed. On Sullen’s phone was a photo of Kim Seokjin.

These men would have to die after all.

Once Yoongi’s office was stocked, there was nothing for you to do but wait. Something you hated.

“Are you hungry?” Yoongi asked, watching the way you organized and reorganized the bandages needlessly.

“No,” you lied, deciding that the antiseptic should go to the left of the bandages instead of the right as you began to take them out again.

“I did.”

Yoongi hummed in response, trying to suppress a chuckle. He knew you well enough to see through the way you tried to hide your needs. He stood up, deciding to try a different tactic, “Well, I am, so you should make me something.”

You stopped organizing to peer around the cabinet, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at Yoongi, “Did you actually ask me to cook for you?”

You narrowed your eyes further, waiting for Yoongi to retract his request. Instead he smiled at you haphazardly, like a child who doesn’t know how to pose for photos yet, all gummy and exaggerated. If anyone asked, you would say something like “he’s such a dork,” but in reality, your heart ached for him just enough for you to give in. You sighed, hands on your hips when you asked, “Okay, what do you want?”

Yoongi considered, “What can you make?”

“Enchiladas.”

“Is that it?”

“No, but it’s what I’m in the mood for.”

"Let's check the kitchen. Anything you need, I'll get you." He was smiling again. This one was more natural and boyish than the one before, making your heart race when your eyes met his. You tried not to let your feelings show as Yoongi gestured for you to lead the way to the kitchen.

“I thought you weren’t hungry,” Yoongi teased good-naturedly.

Your cheeks warmed and you decided to ignore his comment, “Do you guys even have tortillas?”

After digging through their refrigerator and pantry you gave Yoongi a list of ingredients you would need and he put in an order to a local store, promising an exorbitant tip for quick delivery, just so he wouldn't have to leave you.

"Could we fill them with kimchi?" Yoongi asked as you showed him how to roll the filling in the tortillas. You had just told him you liked chicken enchiladas best, but you didn't have time for that. You could fill them with anything though, and he was getting creative.

You wrinkled your nose. You had found out you really like kimchi, but it seemed like a strange combination. "I mean, I guess you could. The real question is if you should."

"Can we try?" He seemed excited, voice high and eyes wide and you didn't want to dampen his fun when he was being this cute. You nodded and he went grab a jar of kimchi from the refrigerator. He set the container beside you and waited expectantly. 

"What are you staring at? You want kimchi enchiladas, you gotta get your hands dirty!"

Yoongi snickered but didn't argue as he rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands. You walked him through the steps again, instructing him to add more sauce and not to overfill the tortilla, giving him a good natured "I told you so," when the wrap tore. You agreed to make a whole tray for the others to enjoy whenever they got home. The two of you got into a rhythm working side by side, and the butterflies in your stomach went crazy every time your elbows bumped or your hands touched when you reached for the same spoon in the sauce pan.

As you slid the pan into the oven, the genuine smile on your face made his heart light. Yoongi liked your smile. In watching you, he noticed you somehow managed to get sauce under your eye.

“You have something on your face,” Yoongi said, pointing to the spot on his own. You used the back of your hand to wipe it off, which only ended up smearing it further. “Here,” Yoongi said, getting up to wet a rag in one swift motion and bringing a warm cloth to your face before you knew it. He was gentle in the way he touched you, getting close to your face to make sure it was gone. When he finished, he didn’t move away. Your eyes met and you watched how his eyes flicked down to your lips before he pulled away, clearing his throat.

“Thank you,” you whispered, heart racing again.

“Always,” Yoongi said, cheeks turning red as he put the rag away. He knew what he meant: “I will always try to do things you are grateful for.” But even the small, cowardly admission of that felt childish when said out loud. He hoped he hadn’t given too much away or made you uncomfortable.

If you were uncomfortable, you didn’t show it, moving on by telling Yoongi that the next time you cook together, he better not tear the tortillas. His whole body warmed with a promise of a “next time” and he happily offered to clean up the dishes while you sat and waited.

“You were right about the kimchi,” you conceded between bites when you finally sat down to eat.

“Everything's better with kimchi,” Yoongi said proudly.

“Kimchi ice cream?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It exists.”

“Yeah, but is it good?”

“Everything’s better with kimchi,” Yoongi looked at you seriously, “Everything.”

You rolled your eyes, but that smile was back on your lips.

“My mom used to make enchiladas,” you said once both yours and Yoongi’s plates were clear. There was an ache in your voice that made Yoongi want to reach out and grab your hand. Maybe he would have, but you moved your hands to your lap as you avoided his gaze. “Or at least I think she did. I have this memory of us going to the park, just me and her, and there was a boy there twice my age and he told me I couldn’t play with him because I was a girl, and I told him I came from a long line of luchador wrestlers and he’d be sorry if he didn’t let me play with him. He ignored me so I dove for his feet and made him fall on his face. I tried to run away before he could get up, but he caught me pretty quick and tackled me to the ground. I think I got several smacks to the face before my mom pulled him off of me.”

Yoongi suppressed a giggle, imagining you, exactly as you are now but miniature, chasing down men twice your size to prove a point.

“She wanted me to apologize to him and I told her I would’ve rather he kept hitting me.” At this, Yoongi did laugh, causing you to look up to find his shoulders shaking and head rolling back. You were so lost in your memories you hadn’t considered the ridiculousness of your story. You smiled warmly at Yoongi, leaning your elbows on the table and resting your head in your hands with a sigh, “I guess it was kind of a silly thing to say. I wonder if my mom laughed, too.”

“You don’t remember?” Yoongi asked, leaning forward as well.

You shook your head, “The next thing I remember is crying and going home and my mom made enchiladas. And at some point she said, ‘Mija, eres mi dulce pequeña luchadora. Pero sigue así y te llevarás a ti mismo a una hermosa prisión.’”

Yoongi would have sold his soul to hold you in that moment. There were no tears in your eyes, but he knew you were breaking your own heart. Was it really better to believe that your mother didn’t exist at all than grieve for someone you might have loved? How could Yoongi convince you that you deserved all the love you’ve been denied by the world? Denied by yourself? Watching you hurt yourself in this way, hurt him too. Shattered him. He needed to tell you you were worthy of love. His love. And of all of Bangtan. And of anyone else in the world. Everyone else. He needed desperately to tell you how he felt. You needed to know.

Chills ran up Yoongi’s spine when he heard you speak Spanish. He loved the tone of your voice in it. Warm and inviting. Like coming home. “What does that mean?”

“My child, you are my sweet, little fighter. But keep it up and you’ll carry yourself to a beautiful prison.”

“Sweet, little fighter. I like that,” Yoongi meant it as his eyes traced over the smoothness of your forearms, the richness of your skin, the way your hands cradled your face so delicately. He wished he could hold your face in his hands like that and whisper how you were his sweet fighter.

You hummed, absently pulling your hair out from your ponytail and letting your thick waves frame your face. You didn’t notice how Yoongi scooted ever so slightly toward you. “Sometimes I think it was a dream,” you admitted. “Or maybe a song.” You shook your head. “It’s the only memory I have of her. Or only full memory. Everything else is just imprints like worn out photographs. A smile here, a kiss there. Falling asleep in her arms. Nothing concrete like the playground.” You ran a hand through your hair, trying to comb it out. Keeping your hands busy helped with the heaviness you were starting to feel in your chest. “Maybe she didn’t make enchiladas at all. Maybe it’s a cook or nanny I’m remembering, I don’t know.”

“How did she die?” Yoongi prodded gently.

You shrugged, “One day she just wasn’t there. My dad never mentioned anything about it. Maybe she never even existed.” You laughed bitterly, “You know, I always think my life sucked after my dad died, but maybe it wasn’t that great while he was living either.”

“Val, I–”

Yoongi’s phone was ringing, breaking the spell in Yoongi’s thoughts. Under any other circumstances, he would have ignored it to give his full attention to you. But tonight, his brothers were risking their lives and they needed him and by the way your eyes held his as he answered the phone, he knew you would do anything to help them too. He didn’t have time to even say hello before he heard Jimin on the other end of the line.

“Hyung, it’s Hoseok. He was shot in the chest. It might be his lung, hyung.”

“What? What is it?” You were already getting up from the table, putting the plates away quickly before following Yoongi back to his office.

“Anyone else?” Yoongi asked, motioning for you to grab the morphine in the cabinet behind him.

“No, he was the first to get there. We had just arrived on the scene when we heard the gunshot,” Jimin explained.

“Did he sustain any other injuries?”

“He has some blood on his head. He might have hit it pretty hard.”

“Shit,” Yoongi blanched. He wouldn’t be able to put Hoseok under for surgery if he had a concussion.

“Jin-hyung is driving him to you now,” Jimin continued. “The cops called for backup, but I was able to intercept and cancel the signal. Jungkook is finishing the job. We made it in time. We won’t have to burn any product.”

Made it in time, my ass. Yoongi thought. Making it in time would mean that he would not have to dig a bullet out of his friend’s chest tonight.

“He lost a lot of blood, hyung.”

“Yeah, okay,” Yoongi’s mind was already going through the procedure. Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin and Jungkook were all type A, which he had plenty of. And if need be, he and Jin could donate because they were both O. He tucked the phone against his shoulder as he set up the IV for transfusion. “When will they be here?”

“Less than 10 minutes.”

“Thanks.” Yoongi hung up without a goodbye, knowing that Jimin wasn’t the type to get offended, especially in a situation like this. “Hoseok was shot. We need to prepare for surgery,” he instructed.

Your stomach dropped as you nodded, not letting on to how scared shitless you were. You fought to keep your last exchange with Hoseok out of your mind, knowing that you needed to stay present. You had no skills to help in this kind of situation, but it didn’t change the fact that you could be useful. And for Hoseok, you could do it.

When Seokjin showed up, Hoseok looked small in his arms. There were no words exchanged between you as Seokjin placed Hoseok gingerly, like he was the most precious thing in the world, on the exam table. His breathing was labored and he was barely conscious. As Seokjin stepped away, he let his tears fall freely knowing there is nothing he could do for the love of his life now. He trusted Yoongi, but feeling how his bloodied shirt clung to his body, he wasn’t sure if that would be enough this time.

“I know a fighter when I see one,” You said, placing a hand on Seokjin’s arm as Yoongi took a quick survey to determine the damage. “He’ll be okay.” To be honest, you weren’t sure if you were trying to soothe Seokjin or yourself.

“The good news is that the bullet missed his lung by a good couple of inches, we’ll have to be careful in getting it out though in case the trauma causes a collapse,” Yoongi advised. “He has at least two broken ribs.”

Hoseok moaned and Yoongi tapped his face urgently, “Hoseok, this is very important. Stay with me.”

“Y-yoongi?” His voice was fried.

“Did you hit your head?”

“What?” Though it was more groan than question as Hoseok coughed, making him writhe on the table. “Hurts.”

“I know it hurts, but did you hit your head?”

“No, he-he cut me. The little one cut me,” Hoseok choked out, reaching for where the gash was on the side of his head.

Yoongi sighed in relief, “That’s good. Good job, Hobi. Val, can you fill a syringe with 20 ml of morphine for me please?” Yoongi called over his shoulder and then turning back to Hoseok, he smiled reassuringly, “You’re gonna be okay.”

You squeezed Seokjin’s hand, heart clenched in your chest, telling yourself over and over again the only thing that you’re sure of…You trust Yoongi.

All things considered, the surgery was routine, the transfusions were successful and everything went as well as it could have. Bullet injuries were relatively common amongst the greater Bangtan clan. Remove the bullet, pack the wound and use stitches if necessary. But Yoongi hadn’t performed something like that in such a critical area on someone he cared for so dearly. Under much duress, he had convinced Seokjin to sleep in one of the guest rooms in the house. Seokjin had insisted, nearly hysterically, that he keep watch over Hoseok all night, but Yoongi eventually convinced him that he would be a better help to Hoseok when he woke up if he was rested and alert. 

Yoongi sat tiredly in the seat next to yours at Hoseok's bedside. Leaning heavily on elbows pressed into his knees, he applied pressure to his temples with his fingertips and groaned softly. The sound made you turn your head. The man had been so composed since you'd known him, you'd never heard him complain of anything before.

"Headache?" You asked softly, voice barely coming out at all.

Yoongi hummed and nodded. 

The corners of your mouth curled in a grin, but you tried to hold them down as you sat up and turned your body more toward him, your knees knocking gently against each other, his stiff denim against your bare skin. "Let me." 

Yoongi looked up curiously, watching you rub your hands together. You pressed your palms to the crown of his head. "Sana, sana, colita de rana," you sang softly and slowly before running your hands down the side of his head, your fingertips barely skimming his scalp.

"What does that mean?" He desperately hoped you couldn't see the blush rising on his cheeks because of your hands touching him as you raised them to repeat the motion.

"Heal, heal, little frog's tail," you murmured in response. It didn't sound so melodic in English. 

Yoongi swallowed hard when your hands stopped, cupping his jaw as you examined his dark eyes that looked back at you, full of genuine curiosity. "What is that supposed to do?" He licked his lips.

"Make you smile."

That was enough to make his lips pull up to show you his perfect teeth and gums. His happiest smile. The one that made your heart skip a beat and your stomach flip. You let your hands fall away when he leaned back a little.

"Sorry, I didn't go to medical school."

"It was the least I could do," you shrugged. "I asked Namjoon not to go, since he knew it was a trap, but he wouldn't listen. And it wouldn't even have happened if it wasn't–"

"It worked. Sometimes home remedies are best." His smile dimmed but lingered on the edges of his lips. He looked down and gently placed his hand over yours. "I don't know what I would have done without you tonight. It's been a long time since we had a night like this." His shoulders relaxed as he sighed out, but it had more to do with his fingertips touching the skin of your thigh over which your hands rested. 

Yoongi cut you off with a squeeze of your hand. "It wasn't your fault. None of this is your fault."

"I could've at least gone with them. Maybe Hobi wouldn't–"

"Hobi is going to be fine," he assured you with a shake of his head. His free hand lifted to push hair behind your ear. "I'm glad Namjoon didn't let you go. You have a tendency to get hurt and I can't stand it," he admitted softly. 

You felt your skin burn where his hand rested against your neck. He was closer than you realized. Close like he'd been earlier. Your eyes traced his features, his small cat-like eyes, his soft round nose, until they landed inevitably at his pink lips just at the moment that the tip of his tongue darted out to wet them. 

The mere thought of you laying here instead of Hoseok caused Yoongi unimaginable grief. How was it you had become so important to him in such a short period of time? Why did the possibility of your suffering frighten him more than his friend's, more than even his own? He didn't know but he wished he could keep you just as safe as you were now, in his small clinic, under his warm hands. 

Was he leaning in or were you? It didn't seem to matter once your lips touched. His lips pushed softly against yours, molding to your mouth like they wanted to make a copy, so as never to forget what they felt like. He was warm and gentle, even as his hand shifted slightly to clutch tighter at the back of your neck. 

Your shaking hand moved from your knee to his, fingers feeling his jeans, grounding you and letting you know this was real. This was happening, even if you couldn't understand why. You couldn't have imagined kissing Yoongi; wouldn't have dared. Among all the men you'd ever known, he was probably the only truly good one, clearly far too good to be here locking lips with the likes of you. As good as it felt, it seemed wrong, too. How had you managed to force him into this? You felt for a moment that you should push him away, but just as the thought crossed your mind his hold on you tightened, pulling you closer still. If this was a mistake, maybe you could enjoy it just a little longer.

Your thoughts couldn't have been further from Yoongi's mind. 

He couldn't say just how long he'd dreamed of kissing you, but now that it was happening it couldn't feel more right. He turned his head to get a different angle, your lips smacking weakly before they reconnected and you shifted slightly closer to him, making the butterflies in his stomach flutter madly at the thought of you wanting to be closer to him. Every bit of exhaustion he felt from the long night eased out of his body the longer your lips stayed pressed to his, moving gently as your hand grabbed firmly to his thigh. A small sigh escaped him as you nipped at his bottom lip, teeth grazing the plump, pink flesh, a shade more red than they were a minute ago. 

Your eyes fluttered open for a moment, allowing you to glimpse his serene expression while his eyes remained closed. But it was enough to knock your brain back into reality, where you certainly shouldn't be kissing Yoongi, no matter how good it felt, even though you really wanted to, even if you hadn't known you wanted to until just now. You leaned further away, straightening your posture. You looked down to see Hoseok sleeping peacefully and cleared your throat.

"We should probably get some sleep. It's been a long night," you mumbled.

Yoongi swallowed and nodded, wiping his suddenly clammy hands on his pants. "Yeah, you should get some sleep."

You stood up too quickly, making the chair you were in scrape loudly against the floor. You both turned to look at your patient, but he was undisturbed, face peaceful, unlike yours, which Yoongi didn't fail to notice. Worry and guilt began to churn his stomach like molten lava.

"Val, I'm sorry," he whispered, his fingertips brushing his lips, stinging slightly from your absence.

You stared into his eyes for a moment before you shook your head and ran out of the room.

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[appledotcodotuk]

why the hive fckin suck at its job: a rant

spoilers for tgwdlm ahead!

first of all, it's important to consider what exactly the hive's job is. my answer is... who the fuck knows. literally. what is the hive's aim. what do you want Paul? more like, what do you want hive? let's find out!

it kinda evolves, as the play progresses. the intial aim of the hive, and one that does actually remain consistent is the constant burning need to grow and devour and gain more and more (insert capitalism metaphor here).

however, this is distorted by the people it possess who influence that aim, as we'll see later.

also the fact it crashes into a theatre displaying Mamma Mia gives the hive the motive it need to fit the world around it to the structure of the musical. having no originality of its own, the hive instead just picks up what is given to it. kinda like an evil baby.

it wants uniformity, that is indeed its ultimate goal and desire, no duh. it thinks it can achieve that through musical theatre, shame that the hive is dead wrong. cause the hive fucking sucks at its own job / aim / ultimate purpose / one concrete goal that motivates all its actions.

can't maintain control over its subjects

okay, so, the hive wants uniformity. it wants everyone to be dancing to the beat of its own tune. right? yeah. shame it literally can't keep its own possessed subjects in line at all. at the risk of sounding like the 10th doctor waxing lyrical abt humanity for the 50th time, humans are really difficult to control cause we're not really motivated by an altruistic allegiance to one primary good. we've got icky emotions that often move us to do stupid unpredictable stuff way more. it makes me wonder if the reason the hive wanted to use musical theatre to try and persuade ppl was cause it seems to think that is how theyll get emotive humans; through emotive songs. anyways. let's look at some examples shall weeeee?

Mr Davidson:

so, Mr Davidson. funnily enough, he's the guy whose in part acting as the hive trying to figure out what it wants through his interactions w/ Paul. every person it possess gives it just a bit more humanity and curiosity abt the world it is currently taking over. at least I think so. hence why as the musical develops u get character's like possessed!Alice wondering 'why does it hurt to love?' - the change in music and mood to something much more introspective really suggests to me that the hive is beginning to question the thoughts and emotions of its human hosts.

Mr Davidson is a family man through and through, he loves his wife Carol. she's his muse, his source of light. his feelings for her are not concrete or easy to explain and solve - hence why his sudden ahem demand of her is so hilarious and also jarring. it completely clashes with the 'I want song' which is simple, and often pushes forward a wider cause. not so with Mr Davidson, he just really loves his wife man. enough to break a frickin alien possession.

tbh I think its hilarious that (at least to me) the hive has to force him to forget and continue with the song, like, he straight up is just talking to his wife in that phone call, talking, not singing. so, no possession until he reverts back into song. ergo, the hive cannot maintain the uniformity it wants. even from the get go when theoretically its control should be stronger cause it has less ppl to co-ordinate. bad. at. its. job.

Paul:

this one hurts folks. yes, I know it's generally agreed, though somewhat debated that the state of Paul by the end of the tgwdlm is not purely possessed. I agree. once again, the hive is unable to truly enforce uniformity.

at this point, the motives of Paul and the hive are kinda just mixed, neither fully human nor fully alien. hence the constant shifts between pleeing for her to get away, to hide, to stay safe: 'what if the only choice is you have to sing to survive' and just full on old style hive nastiness 'let me puke in your mouth and just open your food bin girl' (so romantic 🥰 /j).

the hive has gone away from its original aim, and become something... different. no longer stuck to just one type of genre or style of song, it's really clever to show the developing complexity of the hive by showing how it is now juggling lots of different motifs with references to all the old songs from before recontextualised in a new way - its learning. evil baby... no longer uniform.

general miscommunication:

there are several instances of the hive not fully having uniform control over its subjects. for instance, right after not your seed with the three teens having to like... calibrate. they aren't just completely connected then?? also, this is a very small thing, but uhhhh at the end of inevitable when Paul is about to say the apotheosis is upon... the chorus interrupts him with USSSSSSS. interruptions??? not very in sync of u hive.

I think this inability to exert uniformity is also shown in the contrast between genre of musical theatre. my alien abomination cannot decide whether it wants to be the more modern edgy rock musical (join us (and die), not your seed ) or super happy go lucky old style musical theatre (lah dee dah dah day, and inevitable). it tries to do both, even while trying to encourage union, and sticking to one thing. hypocrite!!!!!

2. aims are guided by the people it possess

so, I mentioned this a bit already, but the hive isn't only mutating the humans, the humans are mutating the hive right back. this is more an interesting observation than any actual analysis but let's goooo.

greenpeace girl:

I think it's very likely that greenpeace girl is one of the first to be possessed. This is probably easily debunkable but whatever this analysis is flying by the seat or its pants anywayyyyy. why? cause where else would it pick up that whole 'this planet needs fixing' thing? it's interesting too, cause it morphs from expressing the desire to join hands and sing together, unity and peace with no actual action behind it. this then goes right to the other end, with the hive going 'fine I'll do it myself' and trying to save things by enforcing a dictatorship on the world. it develops and changes, and strays from its original means of accomplishing its aims! speaking oooooof...

3. inconsistent in means of accomplishing aims

okay, ur an evil hive mind. u think musicals are the way to win over these silly humans cause they're all weak and emotive and seem to respond to them. but, wait! schwoopsie! you haven't realised that for emotional depth and growth to mean anything, you need there to be established development and well... growth. otherwise the sentiments are as vague as the ones expressed in What Do You Want, Paul?

this show has genuine emotional moments, just not really during the musical numbers WITH EXCEPTIONS. any strife is smoothed over quickly, and so the development and change that would have to go into such growth is just gone. (see, You Tied Up My Heart) all so it can achieve its own desire to grow and grow and grow, maybe a metaphor for art being killed under late stage capitalism??

what actually matters is the impact the songs have afterwards, in causing a death - because we have a bond and care abt these characters. those short scenes between Paul and Emma are actually way more resonant than any song. except... inevitable, and also not your seed a bit. at this point the hive has learnt a thing or two, and can actually twist human emotion a little. but for it to do that, it has to reject the uniformity it prizes, and be adaptable. point towards being more human than it first thought? methinks so. and yet it's just not enough...

it's also why let it out, to me, feels really ingenuine. Paul has expressed himself in much better ways already. what they're doing is clearly paining him, and hurting the guy. he's terrified bless.

you can't force someone into being emotional vulnerable, man.

it's why all the deaths for the characters who are forced to express themselves are really violent, involving them being ripped open - literally forcing them to expose themselves from the 'inside out' as Alice reflects in Not Your Seed. you can't force genuine emotional connection, it has to be fostered, shown in the much more affecting relationship of Paul and Emma. the only reason the hive actually has power over our characters is because of these genuine emotional connections, which it tries and often fails to take advantage of, resulting in just resorting to brute violence. messy hive, very messy.

at the core, the musical's a kinda attack on that toxic positivity mindst: trying to force people to reach the sort of easy solutions by sharing feelings in a way that feels pretty invasive and deciding you are instantly fixed. the problems these characters face are jarringly not really what you'd expect a character in a musical to face, cheating, a lot of it, mid-life crisis. problems that are bland, or wayyyy too real. this is purposefully done, to reveal just how silly the hive's aim to use musical theatre to solve everyone's problem is. life is more complex than that smh.

4. a human can write a much more expressive, and genuine song than they ever could lol

u know which song I'm talking abt. what more is there to say. so much for making persuasive songs to tempt people over.

5. make me sad cause they took some perfectly nice ppl and funked them up 😭

this was a stupid point lol. basically I'm just bitter that this hive took a bunch of perfectly okay ppl and gave them hive brain. screw u hive. I swear I'm gonna watch Black Friday soon, cause I'm sure it's gonna completely destroy every thought I've had so far, but whateve,,, just take this as a look at tgwdlm like it's a stand-alone piece.

these guys are supposed to all be 'individuals' on one level, but also 'appendages of a much larger organism'. there's a little too much individualism and fracturing to be cohesive enough to do that I feel. the hive to me is not an infallible, unstoppable force, in fact, every human it takes over only brings it closer to understanding us. so that's maybe a slight positive note??? idk ?! I just have lots of thoughts and feelings abt this musical even if this doesn't make sense I'm proud i wrote it down hehe.

[the-fiction-witch]

Hi Jake

TV SHOW ACCUSED

COUPLE JAKE X READER

RATING SMUT

I stood looking at my bedroom checking there wasn't anything out of place and nothing I didn't want her to find hiding the teddy bear of my bed and putting the little three pack of condoms I bought at the store today on my bedside table but not somewhere too obvious so they where kinda hidden.

As I did my phone went off so I grabbed it excitedly

'y/n <3 - just leaving now xxxx'

'jake - okay see you soon x'

I put my phone down and had to calm my self down as I was a little overexcited I knew it wouldn't be long till she was here so I went to the bathroom looking at myself in the mirror and checking my hair, even if I must have done it a million times today making sure nothing was out of place grabbing my deodorant and putting on yet another layer being incredibly scared I'd sweat if I got to nervous around her, grabbing the body spray she had told me she likes on me and pretty much creating my own cloud of it. I checked my clothes putting the belt of my jeans a little tighter incase they decided to fall off checking my light blue shirt I got from the store it has a motorbike on it not completely sure what one exactly but I hope she does, and fixing where my blue check over shirt the sleave had rolled down again so I fixed it and fixed my hair one more time before I heard that familiar noise.

I checked my room again shutting every other door in the house and having a tiny peak out the living room window, I could see in the darkness that like bike pull up Infront of the house. I debated for a moment going out to her or maybe I should stay inside till she knocks don't want to look to eger.

But I went out into the dark trying not to blush as I looked at her.

She sat perfectly on her battered old motorbike, it used to be her dad's but he gave it to her for her birthday so she could get around, her thick boots on my path, her tight black jeans hugging her every curve as she had a tight belt on around her waist like a corset, her leather jacket a little to big for her but it made her look so sweet she sat up a little more turning off the bike slipping off her gloves and then pulling off her helmet revealing her beautiful face and letting her hair down, the second she did all I could think about was kissing those beautiful red lips

"Hi Jake" she smiled

"Uhhhh... Hi y/n" I smiled

"You okay?" She asks getting off her bike and fiddling around with the box on the back "am I early? Is your mum and gran still here?"

"Oh no there gone they've been gone since this morning" I told her "why do you ask?"

"Humm you just seemed a little nervous that's all" she smiled getting her bag and pushing her bike into the drive so it wasn't on the road she smiled at me giving my cheek a kiss "come on then" she laughs going inside so I happily followed her shutting the door as she puts her helmet and gloves down by the door slipping off her boots too "you look handsome" she smiled

"Ohh thanks y/n, you look beautiful" I told her

"Aww your too sweet" she smiled kissing my cheek again and she laughed "this for me?" She asks pulling on my shirt

"Uhh kinda" I blushed

"Awww Jake, your so sweet" she laughs sitting on the sofa so I went and sat with her "you don't have to do all this for little me"

"Well I wanted to" I blushed "so you gonna take the rest of your gear off?" I asked curious as to whys he still had her jacket on

"Really I've been here five minutes and you already want me to take my clothes off?" She laughs

"No no that's not what i-" I began

"I know it's not what you meant Jake I'm just fooling around" she laughs

"Ooh, you scared me" I blushed "guess I'm still getting use to your sense of humour" I admit "so, what did you want to do about dinner?"

"Order pizza?" She offers

"Fine by me honey" I smiled getting my phone she smiled nuzzling into my neck so I put my arm around her as we looked for dinner "okay that everything you want?" I asked

"Maybe some ice cream?" She giggled

"Really y/n? I invited you to come stay with me you think I didn't buy us some ice cream" I laughed kissing her head we put our order in and it said it would be a little while so we sat cuddling a bit more "uhh look y/n I really need to tell you something"

"Sure what is it?" She asks

"I Uhhh I've never had a girl stay over with me before" I blushed "let alone has a girl in my room"

"You stay over with me all the time" She laughs

"I know but that's your house, and this is my house and my bedroom and my bed, and all that" I blushed

"Jake if you don't want me to-" she began

"No no no I want you to stay, I just I'm a little nervous that's all" I admit

"Aww Jake, you don't have to be nervous, you stay over at my house all the time there's nothing to be nervous about" she smiled "plus I've seen your room in video calls" she laughs

"I know, it's just... A week is a long time, I mean we'll be sharing a bed, we'll likely have to go to the store at some point, probably gonna have to arrange some sort of system for the shower"

"Jake, it's okay, we share my little bed sometimes when my dad's not home, and honestly I don't care about the shower, I don't mind you being around or even us shareing," she explained "it's nothing I haven't seen before" she laughs kissing down my neck I almost moaned so desperate for those perfect lips

"Your right, sorry just a little overthinking again" I told her as her kisses turned harder she was going to move away once I answered her but I held her hair "please don't stop" I begged her and she giggled pulling away she smiled wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing her lips to my own I instantly kissed her back putting my hands on her waist. The kissed began slow and tender but soon turned more passionate, I tested the waters a little running my tounge across her bottom lip she opened her mouth and I opened my own our kiss turning into a snog i didn't want to push much more Incase she thought I was too forward or something but I couldn't help it teenage hormones took over me as I pulled her to sit on my legs my hands moving up and down her back as we made out both of us desperately kissing often moving our heads to get better angles as our tongues battled for control her hands ran up and down my chest sometimes even digging her nails in my back with gentle moans which often made me moan too I slipped a hand down running my hand across the rough fabric of her jeans crawling up he leg and running my hand around her arse ummm it felt so good before I noticed something and I gently pulled away not that I really wanted to "are you wearing underwear?" I asked as I couldn't feel the lines of anything under her jeans

"No" she giggled

I was breathless instantly unsure how to respond I simply pulled her back to our make out feeling up her arse with both of my hands rubbing and squeezing it as we kissed she pulled my neck a little pulling me closer as our little moans continued

I was beyond horny for her, I was desperate and I think she knew I was as she gently moved her hips against my erection making me moan into her mouth alot groping her arse much harder as we kissed I tried to slow her down a little but she wasn't having it moving her hips constantly to grind on me moving herself as if she was riding me I could barely take it I held her hips tightly and just as I did she began to push on me so I pulled down down too so she laid ontop of me as we laid down my sofa making out lustfully our hands exploring every inch or each other I reached my hand up to undo her Jacket and maybe her jeans too if she let me but the door knocked and she pulled away

"That'll be dinner, you answer the door I'll go make some drinks and stuff' shs says going to get off me but I held her tightly

"No please, don't stop" i begged her "don't go honey"

"After dinner" she says kissing me deeply again before she ran off so I sighed getting up and going to the door the guy gave me a funny look but I imagine I likely gave him one as I felt increadly frustrated I shut the door putting the food on the table and I noticed in the mirror my hair was all over the place, my shirt all over the place to, my jeans doing a piss poor job of concealing my erection and I had y/n's red lipstick smuged all over my mouth and a little down my neck I laughed a little cleaning it off and fixing my hair as we sat down to dinner.

Once dinner was over she went to get ready for bed so I put the left overs away and went to my room figuring out what the hell I was gonna wear to bed, I got one of my better t shirts and my best pair of boxers I could find getting quickly into bed as I heard her come out the bathroom I tucked myself up a little still really nervous

"Hi Jake" She smiled leaning on my door she had a little sex red a black nightie that hugged her curves and left little to my imagination

"Uuuuuuhhhh Hi" I blushed

she giggled seeing my reaction "your so sweet jake"

"Uhh I Uhhh well uhh you look beautiful" I told her

"Thank you" she smiled getting into bed beside me I couldn't stop looking at her boobs as they almost burst out her nightie each time she takes a breath "I like your room"

"Thank you, I uhh I cleaned it all up for you coming"

"You didn't have to do that for little me" she giggled

"Well I wanted to" I blushed

"I like your PJ's" she giggled

"Thanks, I like your nightie" I told her trying to take my eyes off her but I couldn't

"Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna keep going?" She asked putting her hand on my chin forcing my head up a little to look at her face and not her boobs

"Yes please" I blushed and she giggled laying down in bed and opening her arms I didn't need any other sort of instruction as I pretty much jumped ontop of her getting back to the make out we had on the sofa...

I yawned as I turned over checking the time it was about time I got up so I yawned again having a stretch as I got out of bed rubbing my eyes as I walked downstairs, as I did I could smell the sweet alluring scent of pancakes and syrup I turned the corner to the kitchen and saw a beautiful sight

Y/n stood in my blue checked overshirt from yesterday some buttons done others not so it hung off her body In a beautiful suggestive way, her hair a mess and not a single bit of make up done as she hummed a little tune making some pancakes I leaned on the door watching her a while

"Hi Jake" she smiled as she saw me

"Hi y/n" I smiled going and giving her a cuddle "good morning"

"Good morning" she smiled back giving me a little kiss on the cheek as she worked

"I love you so much"

"Awww I love you too" she giggled turning around to properly kiss me.