#he did legitimately seem to appreciate the art

[untitled-main-blog]

... does anybody else's brain do this when you're getting close to finishing up a piece of fan art? I know it's irrational, because the author will most likely appreciate the fact I made anything at all. But still. The brain thinks what it wants sometimes.

[the-deadly-donut]

I'm not gonna lie, at first I didn't really like Catnap Says very much, because the idea of a dog whistle made me a bit uncomfortable- (I'm fact I kinda thought it was setting up to be a sort of horror comic) but I choose to stick around, and I'm kinda really glad I did. It turned out to be really adorable (I love me some embarrassment), and really sweet.

I still don't really know how I feel about the dog whistle, because the way you portrayed it made it seem like it was legitimately *Really* hurting Dogday, but I think that's just me overthinking it a bit-

As it went on, the comic was quite the treat, and I really did enjoy it in hindsight. (Not to mention, the comic itself is just really great, you did pretty amazingly, the art and dialogue everything is amazing) Thank you for making it. =3

Yeah I've had a few people say something about the whistle. It's just a prop really, has no significance other then to scare Dogday a little. But I understand what you're saying.

I like to think he reacted that way cuz he'd never heard one before, plus the close proximity. (Usually, you use them when your dog is at a far enough distance). And Catnap surely wouldn't know that cuz he's a cat.

But thankyou ♡ I really appreciate you liking my little comic ^^ I hope to make more in the future. I'm working on an epilogue to Catnap Says to finally send this comic off. I hope you and everyone stick around for it. It's gonna get emotional haha 🥺

[koraesrambles]

Thoughts on the conclusion of Gotham War

Alright, so I've made it absolutely no secret that I've been enjoying the crap out of Gotham War. Is it structurally sound with good pacing and clear stakes? HELL no. It's not an air tight story, there are so many holes in all of the characters logic, but it is also an extremely good time.

I don't mind loose storylines in comics like this. Mostly because the premise "full grown man dresses up as a bat and cannot stop himself from mass adopting every orphan that looks like him" is already so ridiculous that anything they posit as a solution in their "war on crime" I think, "Yeah, I can see that." None of the rules of this world make sense.

But I don't really read most things for their air tight plot. Slight detour (There's a point, I swear!), but some perfect examples of this are Puss in Boots and the Last Wish and The Super Mario Bro movie. The last wish is PHENOMENAL. A literal work of art. I've seen it so many times and just basked in it's beauty. Love everything about it, absolutely stellar. But do you know what movie made me look up fan content, read fics, and forced me to buy the digital copy of the movie before the DVD came out? Yep. Mario Bros.

Why? Because I like stories about brothers who love each other and the mario movie gave me exactly that. It's not an air tight, phenomonal story with gorgeous real world applications, but it gave me a fun time where two characters worried about each other incessantly and honestly? that is what I'm here for.

So back to Gotham War. If I'm not actually looking for a ground breaking story (which honestly, I know those happen in these big super hero comic books but I feel like they're usually the *exception* rather than the rule) and just want good character interactions, then Gotham War delivered phenomenally. Especially since my favorite character was the one constantly being wrung through the wringer.

It was a great time. I enjoyed reading it, the art is better than anything I could ever produce even when the characters made weird faces. It was great. But did they stick the ending?

Eh, endings are hard. I would love to see more consequences for Bruce. Him just going off at the end and getting away with the horrible things he did to Jason is annoying. I almost wanted Jason to actually die at the end there, just so that Bruce would feel stupid and sad. If Bruce never acknowledges what he did to Jason (which . . . he probably won't, given the track record) then I'll be pretty disappointed. That's some juicy angst right there that should absolutely be addressed.

And I appreciated that literally every character that interacted with Bruce that knew about what he'd done yelled at him for it. Even Dick's seeming about-face at the end with "I'm sure you had your reasons" came after two weeks of getting used to the idea AND him trying to actually get Bruce to make good choices for once. I mean, Bruce doesn't, but A for effort, Dick. Thanks for punching him in the face last time, that was cathartic.

I surprisingly really like the fact that it wasn't Zur who did this to Jason. It was Bruce. Horrible, wacked-out, messed up Bruce Wayne who is so desperate to control everything around him and so terrified of losing the people he loves that he constantly overrides them like they're his freaking pets. Bruce is in a BAD place, and I sure hope that there will be tons of fics exploring that even if canon never acknowledges it.

But that's how I deal with comic universes like this. Everyone jokes that "Canon? what canon!" and we all laugh but honestly . . .yeah. Like, seriously. Canon is whatever works for the writer's plot in the moment. They make stuff up and contradict themselves all the time. They're constantly retconning stuff. It doesn't take away from any of the stories I like, I can still read them. And at this point, legitimately, I approach every single comic I come up on as though it's an AU. There is no canon timeline for me, because it's too messy. DC is literally just an AO3 platform that's allowed to make money.

Because the people who originally created these characters are long gone. These guys (gender neutral) writing and drawing the comics now are just fans like we all are. It's all fake. None of it is real. So let's all just have a good time.

I was talking to some friends about this and they pointed out, "It's difficult because people feel like when they're constantly screwing around with things like that why should they even care about the characters?" And they were absolutely right, that's extremely frustrating to deal with. I put a lot of emotional investment into characters, but every writer is going to approach the characters differently and with a universe like DC has, you just have to roll with it. There are no stakes. We all complain about it, but nothing is done to change it because we love these characters and we'll keep coming back for more, and so they keep having to make more content and that means messing with stuff they already have. It's a never ending cycle. These are living legends, mythology that's being written out in real time. Nothing about them are ever going to be cohesive.

Wow this is getting long, sorry about that. Things I loved about the Gotham War conclusion: Jason almost sacrificing himself and being a hero even though he was terrified. A+ content. Gorgeous, you go my boy! Tim telling everyone how to beat up all the rouges (Good job sweetheart, way to be a morally ambiguous little shit like you always are). Even if he claimed to be the second best robin at the end, those are fighting words my man. I also liked Jason's "Go 'save' another one of your sons." jab. That was great. I liked that everyone told Bruce he was wrong, even if it could have been stronger. The rest of the issue was plot stuff that I didn't really care too much about. I really like Bat/Cat, so I didn't mind those scenes too much even though Bruce is still the worst (affectionate AND derogatory).

I didn't really expect anything spectacular from the conclusion, and it really did end kind of like what I expected (nothing's changed except now Jason gets to deal with the Joker when he's sick with Super Anxiety -- which I actually am really excited for). But it wasn't as much fun as some of the previous issues.

That said, I would not mind owning an omnibus of all the gotham war issues, if just to re-read all of my favorite scenes. There were some truly unhinged crap in there, and that's just my cup of tea.

Story telling quality? eh, 6/10

enjoyment had? 9/10

[finsterhund]

ALSO not naming names (of this person)

This can be a very sensitive topic though, because not all stuffed animals even handmade ones, are specifically art dolls, not everyone keeps their stuffed animals on display. Some people most notably children, are going to be loving and appreciating toys in ways that may seem rough to some people and the idea that "you shouldn't tell artists you're giving their stuffed animals to pets" because "animals can potentially destroy them from loving them too hard" can just as easily make people feel extremely hurt about the general wear and tear they themselves might give the toy themselves.

Because ultimately nothing lasts forever and to be loved is to be changed. That and humans are animals too and that accidents can and will happen.

This is coming from me, an autistic boy who did in fact chew on his most beloved stuffed animals, because it helped me self soothe as a neglected neurodivergent child, but nowadays I feel legitimate grief and guilt for having done so because it's been equated to violence (and abuse).

A relatively modern mentality to get big in toy collecting is keeping one's collection as perfect and pristine as possible which unfortunately does make for an air of guilt and shame around those who don't just have theirs for display but give them physical attention too. I'm not saying that we should be giving away handmade pieces willynilly and not caring if they're handled with care and respect, but wear and damage are things to be expected from a toy that's going to see some action. Essentially an unintended message of "don't give these toys to animals, they'll get destroyed" is shame towards anyone, particularly those on the younger side, if they love on their stuffy too much. Which may discourage someone from getting a stuffed animal from an artist and instead pick out something mass produced because they don't think they deserve the former. Because they're just going to "destroy it" anyway.

Not at all saying this was OP's intent, but whenever I see people bringing up how soft sculpture is a collectors item or an art piece so that they mustn't be x y or z it does make me feel unwelcome in these spaces as someone who needs to hold and feel and pet and bring his friends out and about. I'm also not saying that collecting toys and never playing with them is wrong either. People are different. Animals are different. Sometimes we aren't consciously aware of how someone else's notions are different than our own.

My favourite special interest comfort object stuffed animals today are both beautiful handmade artist designed soft sculptures and I am legitimately petrified of destroying them even though the artist herself openly wanted her creations to be loved and get use out of them so it's. Idk. A difficult situation.

Additionally, and back on the subject of how somebody else's notions can be different from our own, the "a toy for a pet is intended to be destroyed. This isn't a compliment" is an assumption rather than fact. A toy for chewing or tugging is meant to be destroyed, yes, but especially in mammals, a toy intended for cuddle and downtime emotional regulation is extremely beneficial even if you have to train the individual to fully understand the concept at first. Which if anything makes this a misunderstanding. For someone who's used to their dog bringing his lovey to bed every night may not realize that a stuffed animal artist who lives with Buster Destroyer of Socks wouldn't have positive connotations being told their toy is in proximity of a pet. Without the added context. And vice versa.

You seem to go into this automatically assuming a pet is going to destroy a toy, which from my experience is a relatively alien concept, I've only recently had dogs who are destructive chewers and them destroying their toys is a NOVELTY TO ME that hasn't gotten old yet. My entire life for the most part has been dogs that are about as rough with their toys as the average seven year old. So it's reasonable to assume good intentions and that these pet owners aren't adding your own personal addendums of "so that they can chew on it and pull it apart" to their statements by default, and that this isn't something that crosses their minds even potentially. Despite it being the case for you.

I think the go to for this topic to avoid hurt feelings is for artists to set age ranges and care guides for their designs and for people to specify that the toy is being well looked after by their current owner. That way it can get rid of assumptions on both ends. The page on my stuffed sculptures artist's website explaining how to clean and repair many of her designs legitimately helps me feel better about potentially needing to someday. She understood that life can be rough and for many a stuffed animal is the protector and comfort during these dark times. Protectors and comforters don't always get away without scars.

I guess I feel the need to chime in on this (and sorry for the wall of text) because this mentality does indirectly dehumanize people who may be rougher (than neurotypicals) on things they care about. I know this is also a larger issue in toy collecting as a whole with a lot of "normies" treating individuals who were loved too hard as like "Body Horror" or something. I remember reading something, possibly owner of Bohug specifically, that they were hurt by mean comments about the appearance of the original Bohug(?) (if this wasn't Bohug I apologize my memory is shit) but as someone with a toy in a similar appearance as the original Bohug I've often been made to feel bad and somehow morally judged for him showing his age quite as much as he does.

It's not nice having another child think the closest thing you have to a parent looks "creepy" because they ended up bearing the brunt of your neglect-induced behavioral issues.

I'd also like to point out that the notion that pets destroying their toys is "the default" is also disingenuous. Pets likely don't intentionally ruin things for the thrill of it and going into this with the assumption that it's deliberate and inevitable may contribute to assigning too much blame on a naughty pet for getting into something they shouldn't.

I'd also like to point out this quote from Maurice Sendak:

“Once a little boy sent me a charming card with a little drawing on it. I loved it. I answer all my children’s letters — sometimes very hastily — but this one I lingered over. I sent him a card and I drew a picture of a Wild Thing on it. I wrote, “Dear Jim: I loved your card.” Then I got a letter back from his mother and she said, “Jim loved your card so much he ate it.” That to me was one of the highest compliments I’ve ever received. He didn’t care that it was an original Maurice Sendak drawing or anything. He saw it, he loved it, he ate it.”

and yeah, it is important to note that there are not just animals of different species, but fellow humans, who may have love languages we might not understand.

And as someone just starting to dabble in soft sculpture himself, I think personally that I'd rather have a dozen of my pieces be the tatty dragged around comfort object brought for reassurance every chemo appointment and torn up by tooth and washing machine alike than dozens sitting on shelves either because of a scalper or an inaccessible price tag.

Anyways this post is in memory of the original Mister Pengin. The first year of grief I regretted him being cremated with Cazza, and not keeping him. But you know what? She needed him, she loved him, and I don't regret it anymore.

(And for the record, other than some slobber... not a hair on his head was ever harmed)

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 12 - Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation Vol. 1 by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu

So, like everyone on tumblr, I was at least peripherally aware of The Untamed, if only as ‘the C-drama with the impossibly pretty men everyone loves shipping about necromancy or something.’ (Also the one crossover porn fanfic with so many tags that it broke AO3.) So I wasn’t quite coming into this blind, but I think I came pretty close. It sure as hell wasn’t anywhere close to my vague expectations.

Anyway, this was fun! Also absolutely let me cross off reading something from an entirely unfamiliar literary subculture off my metaphorical bingo card for the year. Just reams of assumed context I absolutely did not possess. Kind of loved it (but the occasional clarifying footnotes were very much necessary and appreciated.)

Which is to say – there was so much more slapstick and physical comedy than I expected from the vague intimations of feudal politics and magical warfare I got? Not usually my sort of humour but it got a laugh out of me once or twice. My favourite character is Wei Wuxian’s donkey.

The conceit of the first story – reviled and abused failson destroys his own soul and offers up his body as a host to the spirit of a legendary evil wizard to wreak bloody vengeance for him, but fucks up the bit of the ritual that tells the spirit who to take revenge on. Also the whole ‘legendary evil wizard’ reputation was at least partially and vaguely due to a propaganda campaign by his enemies and he’s not particular enthusiastic about the ‘murder a whole family’ thing – is also just incredible. I kind of wish it had been more drawn out, before the whole ‘gotta collect them [chunks of a specific super cursed corpse] all!’ plot became the main justifying connective tissue.

Not that the overarching plot is really the story’s strong point – it’s basically just the excuse to keep Wei Wuxian and Wang Lanji together and having adventures. The actual selling points are the backstories and character interactions and to a lesser extent the monster of the week stuff. All of which are pretty well done!

Though as far as monster of the week stuff goes – I’m vaguely aware that cultivation fantasy is a whole, like, genre, with about as many weirdly specific shared assumptions as ‘generic’ western fantasy written by people swimming in a sea of Tolkien/Conan-as-interpreted-by-Warcraft-and-D&D, but I’ve really got zero clue whatsoever to what degree the worldbuilding of this is typical of the genre? Not that it particularly matters, beyond some of the reveals making much more sense if they’re building off an assumed awareness of how the world’s expected to work, all more or less new (though more or less intuitive) to me either way. Fun to see so much magic based around music.

Anyways – obviously I’m going in with a biased perspective but my god can you see how this ended up with a massive shipping fandom. The entire story is nothing but impossibly beautiful men flirting/pranking/sexually harassing each other while being utterly and entirely capable to even understand let along communicate their feelings. The two lead’s entire relationship in this volume is like a dated mid-2000s comedy sketch about two ostensibly straight guys playing gay chicken and both being so competitive that they just end up fucking. Author really knew what they were doing with the fanfic bait.

(Though honestly I’m legitimately unsure if it’s just a matter of narrative choice to not dwell on motivations or Wei Wuxian really is the single most unselfaware asshole in the entire universe. He legitimately seems incapable of understanding his own motivations most of the time.)

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the art, which really is very lovely. Though I will be entirely honest that there’s only so many handsome black-haired men in flowing robes I can keep apart in my head.

But yeah, fun read overall. Don’t exactly feel compelled to go seek out the next volume, but don’t regret having read this one, damn sight better than some other things I’ve read this year.

[discotenny]

IDEK WHERE THE IMAGES R FROM IM SEEING EVERYWHERE BUT CANT FIND VIDEO BUT HEY LOOK DID U SEE THIS (from someone random blog post bc idek where to find the original)

https://www.tumblr.com/lochness-art/733533305005293568/no-one-asked-but-here-r-my-opinions-on-the-new

NEW SPRITFESSS TIME SKIP REAL TIME SMIP REALFL

NEW SPRITES NEW SPRITES AWAHHWAHFHEAJIORERER

I posted my thoughts on the outfits when that big compilation image came out but now that we have visible LEGS for the all the charas now I feel obligated to update my thoughts fdsafadsfs. Put under a cut cause I have a feeling its gonna be long fdsfdsafs

Original thought post

Original post listed in the ask

ALSo, the images are from the new hypmic flava trailer posted on their yt channel here :3

Ichiro: We saw him in full before, but I just want to reiterate how they intentionally got rid of all the connections Ichi had to the bros within his clothing. From Jiro's blue on his sleeves, the zip up shirt they all shared, and having the iconic BB lettering not there anymore- it seems like they're trying to distance Ichi's character from being so bro centric. Maybe to show growth how he's going to be more independent? It's a bit odd because being dependent isn't Ichi's flaw, that's Jiro and Saburo's... Maybe it's to show how THEYRE distancing from HIM 🤔

Jiro: This hair change is such a W for Jiro fans!! It was unclear if he actually changed it in art prior but this is a W SUCH A W!!! I miss the white stripes on his shoulders for contrast reasons but he looks just like a more mature version of his old design. It looks like he's wearing the checkered shirt instead of wrapping it around his waist which is cuter and makes much more sense fdsafdsfds.

Saburo: He looks all grown up LOL The time skip is only supposed to be a few months from what I recall, so at most he's now 15 but imo I think they're keeping them to og ages tbh. The mustard is such a good look for him! The more pastel yellow and school uniform esc coat of his old design did a lot to keep him looking / feeling young so this new design feels like he's growing up to be more comfortable to be who he is ;_;

Samatoki: He looks just as hot and he's somehow showing even MORE skin despite having a jacket lmao. Those popping buttons I see you Toki fdsafdsaf. Again he looks less like a gangster / yakuza but I wonder if they're trying to lean into that look. He pretty. Real pretty...

Jyuto: Thoughts have pretty much stayed the same, it reads like an Extra Wardrobe outfit rather than something he'd wear on the daily. In the new arc did he stop wearing his uniform since the government shut down? Did he just say fuck the dress code? I do like the outfit, it makes him look a lil more sleazy LOL

Rio: Rio looks good he looks good!! I don't have much thoughts on him since I never really do but I still find it hilarious he has the same pants as his old outfit.

Ramuda: He looks excellent as always but I do agree with the original poster that I miss his blue :C I think the yellow makes him look really young and it kinda doesn't jive with me ??? I love the hat though he looks very very cute. Ramuda also has the best shoes in the cast and I appreciate they didn't change it.

Gentaro: Gentaro is so funny I think they legitimately just made his back cape longer?? He also got rid of the high collar undershirt, which probably symbolizes that he's hiding less of himself to his friends. I love Gen but I need to see him not in motion to see how well this outfit fits him. ATM I think the longer cape messes up his silhouette by making him seem like a rectangle.

Dice: I miss the trench coat!! I miss the trench coat!!! I don't care if it would be smelly I miss the trench coat !!! I think getting rid of the black parts on his collar and outside his sleeves kind of make him look too... normal??? Like idk, where's the spice!! Give him fingerless gloves or sm shit he needs SOMETHING to make him look less like just a guy :C He's cute but I think his old fit is >>>

Jakurai: He looks SOOOOO GOOOD. We've seen this in full before but he looks CUUUTEEE. Like I'm no Jakurai stan but hooo boy that coat does smthn to me. He looks looser, like he's gonna have some fun, maybe go to the mall or smthn he looks good !!!!! Anons brought up Jakurai removing his doctor coat as a symbolism for his savior complex going away and I think it's really cool !!! One of the best new fits imo.

Hifumi: I like his og outfit much better I'm sorry 😭😭😭 I think with Materno's main color being light grey, Jakurai being in white, Doppo being a light grey now, Hifu being that off white just makes him blend together with the other members. Maybe it's the fact that he's set against a white background but he just gets lost among the other two. Having the darker colors concentrated around his head / upper body helps though.

Doppo: I love him my baby I love him I lve nye my baby my vobeoteoy frmajwfmweoijfghuefuwafjewanjmisafkowafewoawfeaiow. I say from my last post: "He’s getting loose he’s getting silly he’s CRAZY DOPPO IN THE HOUSE !!!"

Sasara: I like the outfit on it's own but I kind of... hate how it's matching with Rosho. SasaRo enjoyers rejoice but I don't like how it doesn't allow Sasara (and Rosho in turn) be his own character. It was mainly an issue I had with Rosho but this new fit puts in on Sasara too, that it kind of forces you to look at him in the lense of his relationship with Rosho rather than who he is as a chara on it's own. Also they made him less colorful :CC The bowtie is super cute though I like it.

Rosho: Rosho does look cute but again I wish it wasn't so obviously a callback to his relationship with Sasara!! I do like the hair, it's very cute fdsafdsa. He looks a lot more comfortable and a lot more confident but I'm unsure if its due to character development or just for cool points. Rosho looks like he smells good

Rei: He's too grey 💀 TOO GREY !!! I think getting rid of the hat and glasses was such a downgrade it does not look very good. It's a lot of my issues with Hifu's outfit without actually having a good clothing design to make up for it. I think it's nice how it could possibly be a call back to Kazuma Kiryu but that doesn't really make up for it :/

Kuko: I was wrong his hair did not get shorter 💀💀💀 But he is INCREDIBLE !! IT'S VERY GOOD!!! I have nothing to complain / nitpick about I think it's very good. (one nitpick I guess FDSAFDS. His bright hair now seems a bit out of place against the darkness of his clothing. Maybe making the purple accent stripes blue or red would have made it better? Unsure though.

Jyushi: He looks very good but I wish they gave him more interesting pants they're very underwhelming compared to his incredible top!! Like imagine sm crazy shit like lace racing stripes, some peekaboo patterns in triangles at the bottom of his flares, it would be very cute !!!

Hitoya: Very cute, very good, a stark improvement from his original look I have nothing else to say fdskafdasfdsa. Again, a 35 year old baby.

I think for some of the characters the outfits really really really really work (Doppo, Hitoya, Jakurai) but for a lot of them I think their original looks were much more iconic and much more fitting to themselves (Dice, Sasara, Rei). I hope we still get content put out with their original outfits because I'd legitimately be sad to never see Dice in his trench coat again :C

[conkreetmonkey]

How does Sakurai keep aging backwards??

Watching the latest Masahiro Sakurai YouTube video and

how does this man keep aging backwards. He looks significantly younger now than he did when I was watching his Smash Ultimate reveal videos a few years ago. I'm actually comparing videos now and it's not just me misremembering what he looked like back then, he legitimately looked a decade older in his Smash for 3DS/Wii U videos compared to today. How does he do it?

Now, these example images are far from perfect, I wasn't planning on making this post so this is kind of a quickie. Still, am I crazy, or does Sakurai look far younger today than he did 4 years ago? (I'm aware the quality of the modern photo is far better than the first, but the hat's not on me there; the Smash Bros videos just had less resolution than is seen now on Sakurai's personal YT channel. Weird.)

I've noticed a few distinct ways in which he looks significantly better now:

His skin looks noticeably more youthful. His laugh lines seem to have all but vanished, and his face appears to have significantly more healthy colour to it. The difference appears slight in this photo comparison, but in some older videos from the 3DS/Wii U era it's much clearer. He looks significantly less pale now, and any lines that were present on his face have seemingly disappeared.

This one is more obvious: his eyebags are gone! He's clearly sleeping far better now. The difference is night and day.

Again, not too noticeable from the pictures given, but Sakurai's hair seems to be smoother, glossier and darker than it used to be. Perhaps he's dyed it or is using different products now, but it looks far healthier and youthful now, and that's not even to say it looked bad before. He's always had great hair (and has never been bad-looking in any field), but it's really shining nowadays.

idk why I'm even making this post. In all likelihood, he's just far less stressed nowadays without Smash Ultimate and Covid to worry about. Still, I think it was worth pointing out. Masahiro Sakurai looks phenomenal. Again, not to imply he's ever looked bad. He's always been, in my opinion at least, quite an attractive man. I also understand that this post may come across as creepy or obsessed, but I haven't watched any Sakurai content since high school, in which my friend group was heavily Smash-oriented and we kept up with the development and new character additions like other men do sports. In an unorthodox way, Masahiro Sakurai was a huge part of my teenage years. I idolized him back then, and I'd still consider him a man worth looking up to; his passion for his craft is damn near unmatched. If every big name gave developer cared as much about the art they were creating as Sakurai, the entire gaming scene would be so, so much better.

This is an appreciation post, I suppose, as well as just me being happy a guy I followed closely a few years ago now seems to be doing better than ever. I get that he was and still is a multimillionaire, but back in the day he was working himself to the bone. I mean, passing out at work, winding up in the hospital, and then going right back to work with a IV drip in his arm?? He's clearly worked extremely, unhealthily hard to gain his wealth. I'm glad he's visibly less stressed out nowadays, and austounded at how much better he looks. There's graceful aging, and then there's Masahiro Sakurai. He's 52, and works like a coked-out mule with a sick kid at home and a debt to the mob, yet despite all this I wouldn't think he's a day over 30. You fucking go, Sakurai.

[vaguelyaperson]

in other critiques of the ATLA remake, I haven't seen anyone else address this, but

netflix butchered the martial arts of bending

disclaimer: I'm not a martial arts master, but I did have the privilege of taking a year of lessons from a kungfu master. This shifu studied at the Shaolin Temple - the birthplace of kungfu. He taught a mixture of basic kungfu (firebending), sword forms (like Piandao - Sokka's master), tai chi (waterbending), bagua (airbending), and Buddhist philosophy.

After I took those lessons, I developed a renewed appreciation for how the original ATLA represents martial arts through bending. I knew that they had a martial arts consultant to help choreograph (and damn is the choreography good), but it became increasingly clear that canon ATLA also took the philosophy of martial arts seriously. And if my shifu has anything to say about it, it's not kungfu without that philosophy.

... A philosophy that the remake butchered to present a superficial facsimile.

The original ATLA presented a wonderful, applicable nuance of bending: Like martial arts, intense emotion can make you 'stronger,' but it comes at the cost of your control. Raw strength can be a weakness; you can use an enemy's strength against them. The best fights are fought on reserved action. Proper breathing and form are crucial irreplaceable foundations. Or, MOST IMPORTANTLY, like martial arts, it's NOT ABOUT being the strongest fighter, but about self-defense and balance - balance within self, with nature, with others.

The remake said screw that nuance, bending is all about tapping into intense emotion. Raw strength is everything. Big, flashy attacks and powerful punches look the coolest. Everyone's obsessed with being a great warrior.

In other words, in the remake, that wasn't martial arts. That was just intense fighting that vaguely mimicked martial art forms. And given the budget and resources Netflix has, it's insulting that they didn't have or adhere to consultants. Most importantly, given that bending is the literal central aspect of the world, this butchering strips away yet more of ATLA's heart and soul.

I understand that they couldn't train the actors to master the respective martial arts of their element (and from what I saw of their forms, it's clear these kids at least learned and did their best to apply the basics; I did appreciate Gordon Cormier's focused finishing of airbending forms, that was on point), but the show's philosophical presentation of bending could've made up for that.

Which it didn't. At all. It did worse.

Episode one, remake Aang explained the importance of 'balance and energy' to help Katara make a waterball (something she already knew how to do before meeting him in canon, but sure yeah, misogyny is solved cause Sokka is no longer sexist), but... his explanation... sounded like the end result of a telephone game. It was utter gibberish. I could not follow what the fuck he was saying at all. 'Balance and energy' aren't magical terms - there's very real physical and mental intent, which you must train, in ensuring you have that balance and proper flow of energy (which I'll expand on below.)

Whereas in the original, Uncle Iroh's explanation of bending in the first episode was wonderful. 'Firebending comes from breath, not muscles' has real world equivalent to martial arts. Meditation is meant to train breathing, as well as calm the mind. Overt reliance on muscle (or worse, specific muscles) is a deterrent to proper martial arts. In fact, everything Uncle Iroh taught about bending was clear, well-understood, and had legitimate parallels to actual martial arts. He was an incredible foil to Zuko, an angry amateur.

Canon Zuko's firebending (at least in season 1) sucked for a reason - and the nuance displayed so much respect for the discipline of martial arts. He only seemed capable of basic forms (like forms I learned in the first month of kungfu) and maybe a few cool kicks. His breathing was TERRIBLE (you should not have to huff and grunt when doing basic kungfu forms). His balance was demonstratively bad, given how easily he kept getting knocked over. When Iroh insisted that Zuko master the basics first, it was cause Zuko legitimately still sucked at the basics. His anger and strength were poor crutches.

There's a reason that Aang had an entire character arc to master the emotions of the Avatar State, that Zuko had to learn how to firebend without anger. I can now confirm from experience that anger and reliance on raw strength makes you imbalanced and inflexible!!! It also tires you out faster.

Real balance and energy explanation: In real life, the flow of chi is facilitated by proper form, which REQUIRES meditative practice to master; correct rooted stance, arms-torso-legs aligned to maximize full-body strength, a calm focused mind. Shifu was particular about every detail of our forms down to how our feet were angled and our thumbs placed. We practiced those forms again and again and again. My most powerful hits were ALWAYS because I was focused and my form was on point.

Remember, I had only a year of lessons. Even with basic training, the actors could've EASILY demonstrated everything discussed - if the show's narrative presented it correctly.

But nope. Katara was outright encouraged to base her bending on emotions, instead of emphasizing the necessity of practice and a teacher to demonstrate proper form. The Kyoshi Warriors mostly just grunted through hard punches and threw their fans around, rather than utilizing stealth and their opponent's body mechanics against them. Azula leveled up her firebending just because she was upset at her dad (can the remake stop making men the catalyst of female characters unlocking abilities??), not because how - in canon - Azula is a precise, self-controlled person, which allows her to channel such a dangerous erratic element like lightning.

Everything in the remake was based on emotion and strength! It full on flipped the script!

It was insulting. All of it was so insulting.

I fell in love with martial arts as a child because of ATLA. I took the opportunity to learn from that Shaolin shifu because of ATLA. So I especially felt betrayed by the bastardization of the bending. How could you strip such an essential part of the worldbuilding? It's just not ATLA anymore.

[frenchiefitzhere]

i am by no means trying to attack you or start a fight, but has anyone thought about the ethical ramifications of training ai on redacted audio works? i've seen a few chatbots based on redacted characters, and given the debate going on about how ai basically needs human input in order to function (ie art, writing etc) i have a lot of misgivings about people using the works of an independent creator to train ai, i assume without the creator's knowledge or consent. i'm genuinely asking in good faith, and if you have a different opinion, i would like to hear it.

Thanks for the ask. I appreciate the discussion, honestly. I was initially hesitant to try the recent chat AI stuff. It's a legitimate question to ponder. It is odd to me what gets attention and what doesn't in discussions of creator's rights. I'm not trying to start a fight with anyone either but, for instance, it seems like the rules for using/sharing music are just...non-existent these days. And I have some feelings about that. Your ask also caused me to read Character AI's Terms and Conditions more carefully, and this line: "... grant Character AI to the fullest extent permitted under the law a nonexclusive, worldwide, royalty-free, fully paid up, transferable, sublicensable, perpetual, irrevocable license to copy, display, upload, perform, distribute, store, modify and otherwise use your User Content for any Character AI-related purpose in any form, medium or technology now known or later developed." ...did NOT make me happy. I do still think that ultimately, as long as people aren't copying direct quotations from audios, etc. into the chatbot site, it may very well still qualify as a transformative work. (I honestly see much more heinous uses of creative works--music in particular--that are definitely not transformative that, again, seem to be just...expected now. But not by me.) I will say, the thing about the version of Lasko I was putting together truly has very few specific references from the Redactedverse. He's really more the OC version of him from fics I have written. In the meantime, I've privated the character bot and the Tumblr post I made. Conclusion: I basically agree with you that it's worth being cautious, and I also think human beings have been chugging along pirating creative works just fine without any AI involvement.

[truly-morgan]

[WWX is oblivious]

WangXian | Mo Dao Zu Shi Modern AU 24-03-2021

[#wangxian modern AU]

So this takes place when they are still teenagers. lwj has been pining for wwx for /years/ now, but wwx is the most oblivious boy on earth. lan zhan is just one of his close friends with who he has sometimes rather intimate moments alone with him. But really they are just close friends!

Many wouldn't understand how a troublemaker like wwx could be friends with lwj who would never be caught alive breaking any rule (other maybe if wwx coaxed him into doing so). Most think it’s their mutual interest in art in general that links but jc suspect that lwj is ready to put up with wwx for other reasons, where wwx had simply decided lwj could be a good friend after many years of teasing him.

jc is even convinced that they might be secretly dating and wwx never told him or jyl. the way he always talk about lwj and is ready to stand up for him if anyone dares to criticise him gave him this impression. Why wouldn't he shut up about him if there wasn't /at least/ a little something.

So one day he tries to make him admit to it. "Anyway, how are things with lwj?". wwx looks at him confused, clearly not seeing what he was talking about. "Doesn't he have a special someone?" tried to tease jc, just knowing this special someone /as/ to be wwx.

"So you noticed too" then grin wwx, getting closer to him, "who do you think it is? my bets are on mianmian, she is pretty cute and also seems interested," he said.

then jc looks at him as if he has grown a second head, wondering whether or not wwx is fucking around with him. Where did he get the idea that he was in love with lqy? For someone who is so often with lwj he was really blind.

"Wait, no, that's not what I meant," jc said, frowning a bit, "I was talking about you and lwj".

Then it was the turn of wwx to frown, confused again. "What do you mean, me and lwj? We are just friends of course" he laugh a bit, yet realise soon jc was being serious.

"wwx, you must be kidding me right now? Are you blind? lwj is clearly in love with you!".

wwx then shakes his head, not believing him "Come on, lwj is just being really friendly, he didn't have many friends when he was young, he just shows his appreciation differently".

at this point, jc really believes that /he didn't notice/. "He lets you play with his ribbons!!" in one of their visits to the lan house, since jfm and lqr had taken the habit of having tea, he had learned what it meant. nowadays most people from the lan family were wearing a necklace made of said ribbon with the family crest as a pendant, but lwj had apparently decided to go for a more old-fashioned way like lqr, actually wearing the ribbon.

jc could only remember lwj with long hair, mostly wearing it to tie them or as decorative. He had even been shown one of their ancestor's ribbons, so he could tell the one they were wearing today was way shorter.

What he had remembered well was the tradition of not letting other people than family and partner to touch it. It had somehow stuck with him when he was younger.

wwx was also here, so he /has/ to know, he was most likely even told again by lwj when things weren't as good between them.

Yet he would often see him play with it as it was still in lwj hair, nearly threatening to untie his well-made hair. He had even /seen/ wwx wear it as his neck or wrist when the two of them were alone. He was pretty sure he had even caught glimpses of lwj being one to put it on.

Someone who followed the rule like lwj wouldn't just let anyone play with this ribbon. jc had seen him legitimately get angry when people were insisting on touching it or seeing it more up close. Clearly, he wouldn't have let wwx play with it and /wear it/ if he didn't mean that much to him.

yet after nearly half an hour of trying to convince him jc gave up, not believing how oblivious wwx was.

He ended up talking to lwj, directly asking him if he and wwx were going out. He still had some doubt that he was being fucked with.

Yet all he received was a straight forward "no", lwj admitting he never told wwx because he didn't believe he would reciprocate his feeling, but that he was good with simply being a friend, it was better than nothing.

and this is when jc decided that despite both being considered really smart, they are also both really dumb. Where was this "wwx wouldn't feel the same" coming from? He had never seen his brother act this way with anyone else. Yes, he did have crushes over the years, yet he would always come back to "lan zhan! lan zhan!".

So jc decided to try and put them together, lwj trying to stop him despite not being able to kill off the sudden motivation in the young man. Yet, jc soon realise that fair means won't lead him anywhere, so he manages to rope lwj into following his plan to /show him/ that wwx does feel the same, at least in a way. Sure his convincing isn't totally fair, as he plays on lwj pining for his brother and some technic wwx usually uses. He didn't believe it would work, as he obviously is not wwx, but it still works after some time.

His plan is simply to have lwj divert some of his attention to a girl, anyone would do (except jyl obv), as long as he gives the impression that he does get friendlier to her. jc plays the other part where he sneaks in the idea that lwj is probably going to date her.

at first, wwx is all in for it, then denies it "How could lwj have time for dating? he's always studying!" to look a bit jealous of her. yet he still refuses to accept that he might like lwj more than he first thought.

Then comes the time for graduation and wwx is hit with the reality that he will most likely not be able to see lwj as often as he does, and that he will be far away and probably living thing he won't know and suddenly he feels /panicked/. What will happen to them if lwj starts dating someone? Why does the idea make him want to cry? It's not like he was in lo-

Oh.

And then that's how he realises it, that he /is/ in love with lwj, but just never admitted it to himself.

This is at that moment that he runs out of his house, ignoring the rain as he runs to take the subway, takes the bus and runs the rest of the way to the lan residence.

By chance this is lwj opening to him, suddenly confused and worried to find wwx soaking wet-

because of the rain, nearly shaking because he was getting cold. Yet he doesn't have the time to ask what he was thinking, because wwx nearly yells "Lan zhan I love you, go out with me!".

for an instant lwj stops working, trying to process what he has just been told. Was wwx really confessing to him? One look at the nervous and drenched wwx tells him this isn't another one of his jokes, he would probably not joke about this.

he softly calls his name, putting their forehead together. "of course I will" he answer with a smile.

This is all wwx needs to then kiss him, arm thrown around his neck to pull him closer, forgetting for a moment that he was soaking wet.

He ignored lxc coming from a room asking what was the yelling about, only to turn back and bloc lqr way and sight, saying that it was just wwx.

lwj soon after drags him inside, telling him in needs to change clothes before he gets sick. wwx obliges, teasing him by saying it has to be his clothes or he won't wear them, delighted at the blush he sees on lwj ears.

turns out the universities they wanted to go to are close to one another, so they could theoretically find a place together somewhere between the two.

wwx just knows he will never hear the ends of it when jc hears about his rather sudden confession and how he /might/ have loved lwj all this time. he's just not ready to let jc smugly reminds him how he had been right all this time about wwx just being very much in love with lwj, but too stupid to even notice it (or even notice the clear evidence that lwj was in love with him, even though he was the closest friend he had).

Original

[xavier-elrose]

"Ah. So, you wish to see..."

I had come to the permanent bazaar that lived just outside the city walls. It certainly wasn't the case that anything could be found there, but exceptions were legitimately hard to come by. You just never knew what might turn up, if you looked.

There weren't that many elves, either in the bazaar or the city itself, but there were some, and if they sought something, it would likely be found here.

The elven merchant drew me back, into his shop. He was young, as the elves reckoned time- only a few centuries. Elves had a tendency to settle down as they aged. My guide was still young, still full of energy.

He traded in many things, but his focus was on art. I was hardly a connoisseur, but he seemed to know what he was doing. The outer layers of his shop were a bit on the kitschy side- the sort of stuff I'd go for, if I were shopping for art.

Deeper in were paintings that seemed more like they belonged on the walls of a castle, or perhaps in the court of a king. Art that demonstrated talent, passion, an appreciation for composition and the nuances of the world around us.

These were more expensive, but these, too, were passed by.

That was not, apparently, what elves sought in art.

The art for elven clients was deeper in the tent. Magical lights illuminated the interior, until we arrived at the inner sanctum.

This portion was not outlined in magically-supported cloth, the way the rest of the shop was. This was wood, intricately carved, intricately enchanted, far better at defending its contents than the average city wall. Light did not enter, and light did not leave, and I was blind for a moment as I entered.

Inside was art.

Strange art.

As though the greatest artists ever to live had decided that what they really wanted to make was a grotesque mockery of normalcy, the world seen through an impossible lens, hard to look at and impossible to look away from.

It belonged in no church, in no castle hallway. This was art that had decided it didn't want to be art any more, that it wanted to be a...a mollusc, or a misaligned axle, or the concept of cheese.

This was art that had decided that rules were for suckers.

I will admit, it wasn't quite to my taste. Strangely enthralling, but I prefer to have some idea of what I'm looking at, when I look at something.

Call me old-fashioned, but faces do not work that way.

I had hoped to be enlightened, but now I was simply more confused.

"Any chance you could explain what, exactly, I'm looking at, here?"

The merchant smiled.

"Novelty."

That was almost an explanation.

"As we age," the merchant continued after a pause, "we accumulate experiences. As we age, we begin to see, more and more, the threads of the world, the interconnectedness of all things, of all practices, of all ideas."

"It's a thrilling experience for short-lived races such as yours. But for elves...it's a march towards our eventual demise. We don't die of old age, you know. But as we grow older and older, less and less and less of what we experience is new. Less and less and less of the world grabs our attention. We retreat into meditation, and eventually we're simply folded back into the earth, no longer aware of anything, feeling only a numb desire for something to draw our attention."

"Novelty, for us, is life. Passion, strangeness, anything and everything so difficult to duplicate that there's a real chance that we haven't seen the like before."

"We accumulate riches in our lives, and spend them as we age, slowing our deaths with novelties fetched from the far corners of the world."

"That is what our economy is built on, in the end. Everything else is just window dressing for the other races. We need something to trade with them. They often do a remarkably good job at creating novelty, after all. Creativity gets harder as you age. You get stuck in your preferred modes of thinking."

"That's my job. And some day, when I am old and bored, I will buy curious trinkets from some youngster, and I will gladly part with my accumulated wealth, in exchange for even a moment of curiosity, a moment of life."

The Dwarven economy is based on mining and metalworking. The human economy is based on agriculture. Human economists have always wondered about the Elven economy, until they realized something: Their economy is simply slower, due to their much longer lifespans. Time to ask some elven merchants.

[ghosts-of-imperial-russia]

Are you working for the tourist board? All this promotion of Russia seems a smoke screen over the real Russia. Similar the the USSR they seem to want to stomp on smaller countries and not do business legitimately with the resident companies, but control them.

I have traveled there when the USSR and was impressed with the warm andfriendly people of the Ukraine. It is hard to understand the big bear attack.

As for the month I was in the USSR I was thourghly taken by the beauty of the country and the rich heritage. I would love to return and see much of it again and venture farther to explore where inTourist discouraged me from going.

I applaud your enthusiasm and insight to the historical places and events, but have to wonder why now, when Russia is attempting to return one of its former possessions in a seemingly attempt to restore the USSR boundaries and regain power lost. I among many others ask: "What country is next if they ever retake the Ukraine?"

Again, I am enjoying your entries and the added knowledge I am gaining on country of incredible history. It also brings back fond memories. Thank You

PS: On my first visit to Lenigrad I got to see Beregnakof (I know I slautered the spelling) and take pictures of his remarkable performance. I remember muttering to my self -I'll bet he is the next to defect. Months later he did.

Hi sorry for the late response,

I want to apologize as I am not intentionally trying to promote Russia and I absolutely do not approve of the war in Ukraine.

My main reason for starting this blog in 2014 was due to my fascination with Russian Court dress since I was a kid which developed into a fascinating with the Romanov family and then the Architecture/ art/ life and culture of the empire as a whole as I grew older. I made this blog to reflect that and to paint a picture of a bygone era in art, architecture, fashion, culture with a specific focus on the last members of the Romanov family.

I personally consider myself, ironically enough, very left leaning and anti imperialist.

I appreciate the kind words and I’m happy you enjoy my blog. I honestly hope that, politics aside, we can appreciate the work and craftsmanship the average person laboured to create at that time in history.

[unit3-fmp]

Cannon Hall

People

Lady Elizabeth Spencer Stanhope (nee Coke) 1795-1873

The portrait of Lady Elizabeth Spencer Stanhope was painted in the final year of her life by the local artist Abel Hold. Abel Hold lived at Cawthorne, the village local to Cannon Hall. He was a well-respected painter with many paintings accepted for show at the Royal Academy in London. In times of financial hardship he would entreat the Spencer Stanhope family to commission paintings from him. At the age of 78 Lady Elizabeth Stanhope is shown as a rather severe figure but images of her in her youth show a vivacious personality. She and her daughters loved to visit London but her husband, John Spencer Stanhope tended to stay behind at Cannon Hall.

She was the daughter of Thomas Coke of Holkham Hall. Her mother died when she was four and by the time she was eleven her elder sisters had both married.

She met John Spencer Stanhope when they were both staying at Dalmeny, near Edinburgh. She took an interest in his travels and he was very positive when describing her to his family:

‘..To give you Miss Coke's character; she is very quiet, almost shy; has a great deal of taste, excellent judgement, and seems far above all worldly humbug, and is a person to make a capital wife. ' They married in 1822 and had six children.

Walter and Mary Winifred Spencer Stanhope

Walter Spencer Stanhope (John Spencer's nephew) met Mary Winifred Pulleine in the social circles of London where he was an MP there. She was an intelligent and wealthy young lady who at the age of 19 she had lost both of her parents and had some influence over her own future unlike many other women of her age during this period. Walter Spencer Stanhope courted her with a flurry of love letters where he ardently expressed his love for her rather than her fortune. They married in October 1783 and established Cannon Hall as their country home.

They went on to have 15 children together of whom 12 survived past their first years. The boys were sent away to school but the girls were educated at home. All of the children learnt maths, languages, music, classics and art as well as appreciation of philosophy and literature.

The family were very important within South Yorkshire therefore their dining room was often filled with guests and debate. Guests also came from London and across the country such as his MP friends he made during his time as an MP, including the campaigner William Wilberforce and the Prime Minister, Pitt the Younger. The dining table would have displayed the family silver as well as exotic fruits and spices. Cannon Hall was famed for growing its own pineapples in the walled garden and these would also be displayed on the dining table to amaze guests as during these times the pineapple was seen as a status symbol and were often rented by the less fortunate for special occasions.

John Spencer 1719-1776

John Spencer was a bachelor who was quite determined not to marry. He was also a scholar who loved collecting books and reading. Each year he would catalogue his books and encourage his nephew, Walter Stanhope to join him whilst he did it. When he died in 1776 John left Cannon Hall to his nephew as he did not have a legitimate child of his own. Walter added the Spencer surname to his own creating the Spencer Stanhope name.

John Spencer was a lively gentleman who enjoyed attending the horse-racing in York, 'taking the waters' in the Spa at Harrogate and visiting friends and family. He was passionate about hunting and kept exceptional horses and dogs at Cannon Hall. John Spencer also spent some time in London where he worked as a lawyer. He attended the theatre and masked balls as well as meeting friends in coffee houses.

[unseededtoast]

Antedate | Bucky Barnes

Part 8/13 | Part Seven, Part Nine

Summary: Sometimes making the right decision feels like the wrong one. That decision can stick with you for years and leave you wondering what would happen if you had chosen something else. But the alternatives likely lead to a much darker path; you'll never know for sure though. One thing is for certain, the decisions I have made will have lasting consequences.

Prequel to Rectify

Series Warnings: Discussion of human trafficking, physical and mental abuse, mention and description of death

a/n: Hi everyone, thank you for checking this out, I appreciate any and all support! This series is also posted on Ao3 and Wattpad if you prefer those formats/platforms! This is a completed series, and it's going to take some time for me to transfer it to Tumblr, so please bear with me!

"We need them to feel secure, it's the only way we'll be able to pull this off."

I rub my eyes and close the cover of the heavy book in front of me. I look at the watch on my wrist and see I'm late for the dinner tonight. Hurriedly, I rush through the halls, fixing my hair as I go. I know neither my father nor Dane are going to be too delighted with my tardiness. As I near the dining room I slow my pace and gain some composure.

I round the corner and see my father, Dane, and two other men standing around talking. I don't know who they are, I just know they're important enough to have a private dinner with us tonight. I plaster a smile on my face and extend my hand to greet the two of them.

"Here she is, as I was saying this is my daughter, Adalyn." I can sense the tension in my father's voice but I ignore him as I welcome our guests.

"It was well worth the wait to meet you, miss Averina." One of the men say with a smile. I can tell I already don't like either of them, but that's nothing new. I rarely ever like anyone in this place.

We all walk into the room and take our seats at the table, my father sitting at the head. There are finely dressed agents who come and serve us water. I place the napkin on the table in my lap and wait for the others to start conversation. I'm here just for formality purposes, I'm not supposed to talk unless I'm spoken to.

The men talk about trivial things to fill the air before they get down to business. I have a feeling I know what this meeting is about but I don't understand why it's being made into such a production. We've done hundreds, if not thousands, of contracts over the past three years.

The agents come and serve the meal to us, which looks to be chicken, vegetables, and a baked potato. I've definitely had worse before. I wait for the others to begin eating before I do, again, just as a formality thing.

The past three years have allowed me to perfect the art of seeming like I'm paying attention. In reality, my mind is wandering off elsewhere. My life has devolved into going on contract missions, taking care of the Soldier, and trying to avoid Dane as much as I possibly can. Thankfully, my father never actually forced me to go through with a legitimate marriage to Dane. But, I am of age now and am nervous to see if it gets brought up.

I've spent a majority of the free time I have in the Soldier's room, studying and reading books. That room is the only true safe haven I have in this place, Dane never comes into the Soldier's room. I've mainly read about and studied the human mind, it's really fascinating when I'm not being pressured to learn it.

"How was your day today, darling?" Dane speaks in a false cheerful tone. I snap back to reality and smile smally, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear.

"It was interesting. I did a lot of studying today." I keep my answer short and sweet. My father nods his head,

"My daughter here is a prodigy. She's always had a talent for understanding the mind. She's the mastermind behind the Winter Soldier." I'm slightly surprised to hear my father giving me credit. Although, by complimenting me, he's also complimenting himself in a way. The guests smile,

"That's amazing. We heard rumors a few years ago about the Soldier, it's a pleasure to meet the mind behind the weapon." I smile and nod, but feel the fire run through my veins. He is not a weapon.

"Speaking of the Soldier, should we get to business?" My father dives into the contract. I zone out and take small bites of the food in front of me.

The men speak for what feels like an eternity, discussing the most intricate details. This must be quite the contract. I tune back into their conversation and try to catch up on what I missed. I hear them talk about multiple targets. The most we've ever taken on is four targets at a time, after that it gets difficult to manage the scene and make sure there are no witnesses left.

"I think we can make that happen. We just need to get one or two of our men in there to set up cameras. We need to know that they'll be there just as you say." My father laces his fingers together on the table. The two guests nod their head.

"Rest assured that they will be there. They always travel with the leader." I look between the four men at the table. I see my father's face break out into a smile and he extends his hand to one of them men.

"We can do it. Allow my daughter to show you the asset." My eyebrows draw close together. We never show clients the Soldier.

"Show them the Soldier?" I question. Both Dane and my father give me a stern look. I just nod my head and go with it.

"Of course. Right this way gentlemen." I speak and rise from the table. The two men follow me out of the room and I lead them down the halls. This all seems very odd to me. I make small talk with them to try and get more information.

"So, where are you two handsome men from?" I ask.

"We are from another organization with similar interests to Hydra." Is all the answer I get. My father must have some ulterior motive to all of this. I nod my head

"I see. Well, rest assured that we will be able to take care of your issues." I say and we walk the rest of the way in silence. I open the door to the Soldier and we all step in. I will not be getting him out of cryogenesis, they will have to settle for seeing him in the chamber.

The men take turns looking into the chamber where the Soldier waits to be activated. I see the two of them look at each other, and I can tell there's something there, there's something they aren't saying. They quickly turn their attention to me and smile,

"He is everything we've heard of." I usher them out of the room as they speak, feeling uneasy about them.

"He is the most elite and efficient in the world." I say and lock the door behind us all. I take them back to my father, who has Dane escort them out of the base. Once the three of them are gone I turn to my father.

"Who are they?" I ask. My father scoffs with a smirk on his face.

"They are two fools. They are from another organization, quite small, that is infringing on some of Hydra's territory in the southern region. Not only are we going to take out the targets they specified, but we're taking them out too. I've already received their payment." I nod, that makes more sense. My father lulled them into a false sense of safety, they'll never see it coming. He's only acting in the interest of his own power.

"I see, how many targets in total?" I ask. My father drinks the rest of the water in his glass and sets it on the table heavily.

"Eight." My eyebrows shoot up.

"That's double what we've done." I say. My father's face grows darker and he walks towards me. His temper is so short these days, the least little things sets him off.

"You are in no position to question me, girl. You've got some nerve, that's for sure. Showing up late, questioning me. You're despicable. You are to make sure the asset stays in tip top shape and follow my command. You need to learn your place." He says and spits at my feet. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying or doing anything further.

Without another word, I turn on my heel and leave the room, going back to my own. I hope and pray that Dane doesn't make an appearance tonight. It's never a good thing when he comes to my room.

I put my shoes by the door and sit in my old chair. Some of the springs are starting to poke through the upholstery, but I refuse to get rid of it. I think about the contract my father just set up. I know the Soldier can handle eight targets, but I worry that my father is beginning to lose his mind. It's going to be difficult to keep our cover with that many targets. He's become so consumed with power in the past few years, I feel as if Dane sometimes grows tired of him. However, Dane has grown into more of a monster himself as well.

Speaking of the devil, my door opens and in steps Dane. I stare at him with a blank expression. I know what's coming. He motions for me to join him and I sit on the edge of the bed next to him. I stare at my hands in my lap, trying to dissociate from reality.

"You know, you shouldn't have questioned your father in there, about showing them the Soldier." He says, but I'm only half paying attention. He turns his body towards mine and I look up into his eyes.

"Why's that?" I ask.

"Because if they sense something is wrong they'll back out of the deal. We need them to feel secure, it's the only way we'll be able to pull this off." He says and I nod, faking being interested.

"It'll work out, don't worry." I say in a bored tone. Dane sits in silence for a few moments. I see him clench and unclench his fists a few times before he abruptly stands from the bed. I flinch back slightly, not expecting his outburst.

"I am getting so sick and tired of your attitude lately. You have no respect anymore. Do you forget that you belong to me?" He says and leans in close to my face. I blink a few times. Dane puts a hand around my throat and starts squeezing it, making it so that I can't breathe.

I try to pry his hand off my throat, but he only tightens his grip. His eyes are almost black with anger. I start seeing spots in my peripheral vision and feel Dane's other hand start exploring my body. I try to fight him off, but he's far too strong. He's never fully choked me out before, not yet at least.

I gasp and choke for air as I feel him start to forcefully undress me. With the little bit of strength I have left, I try to fight him off but I know it's no use. My eyes grow heavier and heavier, and my vision fades to black. I'm at his will fully and completely.

I blink my eyes open and look around the room. My throat burns with each breath and I touch my throat, recalling what Dane did to me. I look over myself and notice that I'm not dressed the way I was when I came to my room. I tumble out of the bed and throw up into the trashcan next to my vanity. He's never taken things this far, this is a whole new extreme.

I wipe my mouth and see him sleeping in my bed. Fire runs through my veins as I look at him, sleeping as if he hadn't just choked me out and violated me. I've grown used to him violating my body, but never has he inflicted this much physical damage.

With seething rage flowing through my body, I make my way to the Soldier's room, the one place I know I'll be safe. I sit in the chair in front of the desk and rest my head on the cool wood. I'm growing evermore tired of the abuse as the days pass by, but I can't bring myself to leave the Soldier. I'm the only one who looks out for him here. I'm the only one who knows how he works. 

I raise my head off the desk as an idea comes to me. It might not be the best idea I've ever had, but it might just work.

[amicidomenicani]

Question Hello Father Bellon, I would like to thank you for your pastoral service and I would appreciate it if you could read this email of mine. I apologize if you've found the previous email messy and difficult to understand. I have two doubts at the moment. I. Do we all have the same rights and the same duties? In his latest encyclical All Brothers, Pope Francis affirmed that all men [as well as women] have the same rights and duties. So far so good but, unless His Holiness was referring only to some (fundamental) rights and duties, this may seem contrary to the teaching that the Church has spread over the centuries. Precisely, men are equal in dignity, but the inequalities of rights and powers come from the same Author of nature (SS Leo XIII, encyclical Quod Apostolici Muneris, 1878), and that the disparities of culture, possessions and social position are in conformity with the divine and natural law are not necessarily contrary to the spirit of brotherhood and community (SS Pius XII, Christmas Radio Message of 24 December 1944, 1944). Not to mention the doctrine (see for instance Leo XIII) according to which democracy is only one amongst the legitimate forms of government. Can the Church be a reliable guide in the faith if it contradicts her own teachings?  If there is no contradiction between today's magisterium and the old one, could the magisterium be a little clearer about these fundamental principles? II. According to the Bible, should wives and husbands have the same role within the family? Father Bellon, I believe that the relations between the members of the family must, in part, be established by traditions and civil laws (SS Pius XI, encyclical Casti Connubii, par. II, 1930, and SS Giovanni Paolo II, encyclical Familiaris consortio , art.25, 1981), my question, however, concerns the essential aspects of marriage as established by the Holy Scriptures. In the Bible, reference is often made to the duty of wives to be submissive to their husbands, but a passage from the Apostle Paul's Letter to the Ephesians, the one in which we read be submissive to one another, seems to refer to a more equal relationship between the spouses. Some say that the scriptures are influenced by the culture and mentality that dominated the centuries in which its authors lived. However, the Church teaches that God inspired biblical authors to write only what He wanted (Universal Catechism of the Catholic Church, art.106), therefore each verse more than the culture of the writers should reflect the wisdom of the Holy Spirit who inspired them.  So we should consider that God asks Christian spouses to be submissive to one another, and He strengthens this commandment over wives alone in many other passages. Reflecting on it, I thought that perhaps God asks for two different types of submission to wives and husbands: He asks obedience to the wives and to the husbands to take care of their wives, even giving up their hobbies or always pushing for what they want. For example, the Apostles (the hierarchy of the Church) were subjected to Jesus Christ as the Messiah and consubstantial Son of God, but even Jesus was in some way subject to the Apostles when he had to give up his interests to worry about those slow-thinking men, especially when he humbly washed their feet.  It seems to me that Blessed Giuseppe Toniolo (Treviso, 1845 - Pisa, 1918) saw in this last gesture an example for the human hierarchy of every time. All this without omitting that, as S.S. Pius XI said, the "human" laws can determine in a more precise way the characteristics of this submission, and I add, by bringing the rights and duties of the spouses closer to make them more equal. What do you think? Did I go completely astray? Am I too slow to understand? Answer from the Priest Dear friend, with some delay (almost a year) I reply to your email. I beg your pardon. 1. With reference to the two question

s you asked me: About the first one: Pope Francis said that all men, clearly including women, have the same rights and the same duties. Which is very true. The expression "all men" is equivalent to all people. All people, including children, have the same rights and duties. 2. In the Instruction Donum Vitae (it is an instruction of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith of February 22, 1987) we read: "The human being is to be respected and treated as a person from the moment of conception; and therefore from that same moment his rights as a person must be recognized, among which in the first place is the inviolable right of every innocent human being to life"(DV I, 1). 3. Distinctions are implicitly included in this statement, in particular the distinction between absolute rights and conditional rights.  For example: every person has the right and the duty to participate in social life through elections. Children are also people. Do they have the right to vote? Obviously yes, as they are people. And yet, since going to vote requires at least a minimum knowledge of public life, it is required to carry out an act of such responsibility when the subject has acquired a level of maturity. Similarly, children as persons also have the right to marry. But in fact society prevents it because marriage requires the maturity necessary to assume the marital rights and duties. 4. If you keep these distinctions in mind, you will realize that there is no contradiction between the various interventions of the Magisterium, Sometimes, in fact, the magisterium simply refers to absolute rights. While other times it refers to conditional rights, which are regulated by society. 5. The opinion expressed on democracy, considered as one of the legitimate forms, is also correct. We cannot deny a priori that the democratic system can be improved in the future. 6. The second question concerns husband and wife having the same role within the family. The expression you used is quite vague, because if the spouses have the same rights and duties as spouses, they nevertheless have different duties within the family. Some of them derive from nature, such as the task of carrying children in one's womb, of giving birth to them, of nursing them. Others, on the other hand, derive from customs or cultures. In the past, certain tasks were entrusted to husbands and others to wives, such as cooking or keeping the house tidy. It cannot be denied that women are more predisposed to cleanliness and order. We see it in their own behavior and in their clothing. 7. Regarding submission, you did well to remember Ephesians 5:21 where the Holy Spirit says: "Be submissive to one another in the fear of the Lord". Precisely because he is speaking of mutual submission, St. Paul explains in the following verse: “You wives are subject to your husbands” which goes along with the first verse. 8. St. Paul also says that the husband is "the head of the wife, just as Christ is the head of the church". The fact that he is a leader does not affect the equal dignity of the spouses. Precisely by appealing to the equality of spouses, the Church rejects polygamy, which manifests a superiority of man over woman because it would be up to man to decide how many wives to have. Nor does it mean that the husband is the owner of the wife. But just as the Church is all for the Lord, so also the wife is all for her husband. She is happy to live for him. And this in the same way in which the husband is happy to give himself to his wife down to the last drop of blood as Christ did for the Church, of which he made himself a servant. 9. It is true that St. Paul as an inspired author wrote everything that the Holy Spirit willed. But it is also right to recognize that the Holy Spirit also inspired him in drawing from the society of the time the concept of submission of the wife to her husband. However, not to place an in

equality between the two as was believed in those days, but to purge submission from any possible interpretation of man's domination over woman, to lead to a new concept of submission, which is that of mutual submission. And it’s not only about mutual submission, which is already a great thing, but of reciprocal submission in the Lord, the only Lord of the husband and wife, the first and irreplaceable spouse of each of them. 10. Starting precisely from the divine affirmation that "the two are one flesh" it is out of place to speak of the superiority of the husband over his wife and vice versa. Mutual submission is the fruit of that love for which we give ourselves in totality to one another and voluntarily make ourselves servants for the good of the other. It is submission in love, which leads us to be happy to give ourselves to each other to the last drop of blood. This mutual service emerges in a particularly beautiful text by Tertullian, a Christian writer of the second century: "How will I be able to expose the happiness of that marriage which the Church unites, the Eucharistic offering confirms, the blessing seals, the angels announce and the Father ratifies? ... What a yoke that of two faithful united in one hope, in one observance, in one servitude! They are both brothers and both serve together; there is no division as to spirit and as to flesh. Indeed they are truly two in one flesh and where the flesh is one, the spirit is one ”(Ad uxorem, II; VIII, 6-8). Thank you for giving me the opportunity to clarify these concepts. At the same time I am pleased with you because if I am not mistaken you are that young man who is approaching faith, or better said, our Lord. I accompany you with my prayer and I bless you. Father Angelo 08 January 2022 | A priest replies - Moral theology - Cardinal virtues

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

tripping on skies, sipping waterfalls | k.th.

pairing: art-student!taehyung x creative-writing-student!reader 

rating: m (18+)

genre: angst | smut | fluff | humor | college!au | established relationship!au

summary: One drink too many at Hoseok’s Halloween party, and you’ve blanked out on the entire night that followed. Now, who’s gonna fill you in when Taehyung looks one second away from breaking into tears when you bring it up with him? From running across the university campus in remnants of your vampire outfit, to dealing with your downtrodden boyfriend’s disappointed stares - you’re left with one hell of a day, and zero recollections.

warnings: swearing + talks of alcohol (literally the whole tHEME of the story) + casual use of the word “amnesia” by careless college students + sexual situations (nudity, semi-public sexual acts, really explicit makeout sessions, dry-humping, lil bit breast play, lil dirty talking, fingering) + love bites galore.

word count: 19.2 k

note: so. issa a humongous beast, i know. i literally cannot fathom how i wrote these many words without posting anything in between. also, believe it or not, i fleshed out the plot for this fic all the way back in June, 2019. it's taken me nearly two years and a HELL LOTTA editing to the basic storyline to finally be able to finish this off. also, i extended this AU to include all the boys, so...kinda had to rope in their stories, too, lol. hope you enjoy this while i go slave off on the rest of the six fics~ 🥺💜

💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

A knock sounded, seemingly coming from the end of a miles long tunnel. You groaned, pursing your lips against the pounding that echoed in your head in response.

Gosh, what was this? Why was your mind so freaking foggy? What did you do last n—

"Angel? Are you in there with hyung?"

You wrinkled your nose, always hating how your boyfriend's entire group of friends had taken to address you by the pet name he gave you—to the limit where you legitimately didn't always remember that "angel" wasn't your name. They said it was somewhat of a "norm" in their group that came into practice when Jin forbade them all from saying his girl's name. Or getting too friendly by calling her “noona” in a really creepy way.

You'd had eight months' experience of this idiocy now, but that didn't make you cringe any less whenever you heard the address.

You tried swallowing past the sand in your mouth, eyebrows wrinkling as you willed your brain to interpret what the voice said beyond your "name."

And then it registered.

In there? With hyung? 

What the hell?

"What? No, hyung, I can’t just rattle the knob to check—what? I might have heard some... wait. Why? What? No! Noona is—no, she's an adult, I'm sure she can make her own decisions! I’m not going to—I'm disconnecting the call, Namjoon-ssi, this is so uncomfortable!"

Your eyes fluttered open in pitch black darkness. 

Namjoon-ssi? Who was referring to your dumbheaded best friend with such respect?

Wait, wait, wait.

…noona?

Only one person called you…

"Jungkook?" you muttered, wincing at how horrible you sounded.

Releasing a deep breath, you came to the conclusion that you were dealing with a hangover. A really, really bad hangover, because your recollection of how you got to this point was nil.

Blinking, you opened your eyes wider, looking around in an attempt to catch bearings of where you were, because the overwhelming heat wrapped around your body definitely didn't remind you of your cold ass dorm room.

You squirmed, attempting to stick your feet out of the warm covers that seemed to be stifling you whole, specifically your legs and your midsection.

"Nuuuu~nghhh…"

You froze.

What the—?

The voice—well, more of a groan that you couldn't really comprehend—had come from somewhere near your rib cage. 

You pulled your arms down from where they were rested under your pillow, wincing at the soreness that'd taken residence in them. With slight shaky fingers, you reached over to where you hoped the nightstand would be. To your luck, your fingers brushed over a smooth table top before bumping into what felt like a button that could belong to a bedside lamp.

Swallowing the cotton wool lodged in your throat, you pressed down with your index and middle fingers, immediately hissing in discomfort when blinding light burned your corneas.

"Whaaa~nuuuuu…"

Something soft brushed against the underside of your boobs. Your eyes immediately snapped open wide, disregarding the killer headache that ensued. Your heart was pounding hard, fear climbing up your windpipe as you looked down.

Your naked boobs greeted your line of vision, followed by a mop of black hair.

You heaved in a huge gulp of air.

No. 

No, no, no, no, this couldn't—

Was this—

Did you—

Were you naked?

You didn't realise when your eyes had squeezed shut, but they fluttered open when a contented hum echoed around you, a small gust of warm breath brushing against your stomach.

"Uh…" You wanted to say something to the fluffy, dark hair moving around over your abdomen, but you were at a loss. 

Why was he lying over your naked body? God, was he naked, too?

What the heck had happened last night?

"Whoa." The fluffball on your abdomen moved completely, and a pair of round, pretty eyes connected with yours past your bared breasts. "What a beautiful sight to wake up to. Good morning, baby."

You involuntarily shivered at your boyfriend's gravelly morning voice. The damn pitch that was deeper than the ocean on the regular, tended to penetrate the layers of the earth itself when he woke up.

But…

Oh, God. You had only ever seen him topless. And only seen, not even touched. Or more. So, waking up to being topless and under him was making your heart beat out of your chest, and your body burn with sparks, all over.

"Um, Tae…"

"Hmm?" Plump lips connected to your skin, dragging over the sides of your breasts.

Your breathing was immediately unsteady even when your eyes widened in alarm. "T—Tae, wait…" You swallowed thickly when he climbed up your body and set his hands on the bed next to your pillow, his face hovering inches above yours.

You breathed in, preparing to speak past the bundle of nerves in your throat, and—froze. 

A corner of your lips twitched.

His eyes were surrounded by huge pools of black, that you could now recall was eyeliner that you'd meticulously applied on him, last evening. The bright red lipstick he'd gone for in order to finish off his vampire look, was now smudged all the way down to his chin. 

Despite the killer throbbing in your head and your panic at your state of undress, you couldn't hold back a fit of laughter at the sight. "Tae, baby—your makeup…" You managed to mumble between bouts of uncontrollable giggles.

Taehyung just grinned at you, shaking his head in silent humor. "As if you're any better. Ooh, look at this!" His eyes suddenly widened, focusing on your neck. "Your neck looks like you got attacked by a vampire, baby."

You smacked his chest with a harrumph, ignoring the warm, firm feel of it, rolling your eyes when he broke into laughter. "Pretty sure you were the one that did it, smartass."

"Well. I don't see a problem with it. We were supposed to be vampire mates, after all." Flashing you a smirk that would've been a lot more irresistible to you if it weren't for all the smudged lipstick on his face, Taehyung rolled off your body to sit at the edge of the bed. "This headache, though… ugh…" He groaned, massaging his forehead with a hand. "How much did we have to drink, Angel?

You slowly sat up in bed, dragging the sheets to cover yourself all the way up to your neck. Your brows furrowed in concern. How much did you have to drink, for real? The way you couldn't seem to recall literally anything from the party last night was kind of a sign that it had gone beyond your limits.

Clearing your throat in nervousness, you lifted the edge of the sheet to take a peek at yourself, breathing a tiny sigh of relief on finding your panties still wrapped around your hips. So at least you hadn't gone all the way, right?

Right?

"Hey, Tae," you called out, stopping your boyfriend on his way to the bathroom. He was clad only in a pair of boxers that accentuated his plump butt, which was also a first time experience for you, but you figured that it was better than nothing. "We, uh, what did we do last night?"

Taehyung looked at you over his shoulder, brows slightly creased in confusion. "What? We went to Hobi hyung's Halloween party, baby, dressed as vampires. Hence the makeup…?"

You shook your head, gulping down your nerves. Taehyung had completely turned around to look at you, now, arms crossed against his bare chest. In spite of the ridiculously smudged makeup on his face, he made a damn appealing sight. You willed your gaze to not stray down to his sculpted thighs for the sake of your own sanity.

"Angel?"

"I—I mean...after," you mumbled with flaming cheeks. 

Your asshole of a boyfriend grinned wickedly at that, moving his hands to place them on his hips. "Uh huh. After, baby? What do you think?" He gave you an exaggerated wink.

You looked down at your fingernails, your entire body almost shivering out of nervousness and each one of your nerve endings inducing sparks all across your body. You were pretty sure you were blushing all the way from your ears, down to your chest.

Soft thumps of feet padding across the floor echoed around the room. You felt his warmth near you before his fingers tapped beneath your chin, prompting you to look up.

You did, eyes widened and breathing halted.

Taehyung's brows were lowered and lips pursed together as he looked at you with soft, concerned eyes. "Do you…do you not remember anything?"

The hesitation in his voice almost caused your heart to stop beating. Why was he being like this? Had the two of you actually done it, last night?

And…you didn't even remember anything?

"Angel?"

"Oh, God, Taehyung! Why do I not remember?" you suddenly cried out. 

"Hey, hey, baby, it's okay!"

What? No, it wasn't.

You'd had sex with your boyfriend for the first ever time after eight months of dating, four out of which you'd spent dreaming extremely lewd and inappropriate dreams about him, and now―and now you didn't remember it!

"I'll go take a shower, and then we can talk about last night. Okay, baby? Hey, look at me," Taehyung softly spoke to you, carding long, elegant fingers of one of his hands through your hair. He cupped your cheek with the other. "Don't worry, Angel, you're just hungover right now. I'm sure it'll all come back once your head's feeling better."

You swallowed thickly, kinda pissed at yourself for feeling so emotional about this, but kinda more pissed at your drunk self for doing the do with the love of your life when she knew she was too far gone to retain the memories.

"I love you, baby," said love of your life murmured to you, leaning in to peck your forehead softly.

"Love you too, baby," you mumbled back, watching, from the corner of your eye, as his shapely ass made its way down the room and into the bathroom.

You exhaled, loudly. Even though you loved him beyond measure and trusted him completely, you didn't wanna talk to Taehyung, right now. He remembered everything from last night, and the torn, hesitant, kinda hurt look in his eyes made you feel insecure and disadvantaged.

You knew you had to cure your hangover first, vent out about how dumb you felt, and have someone reassure you that forgetting about your first time with your boyfriend wasn't the end of the world, before having that conversation with Taehyung.

And you also knew how you were gonna accomplish that.

You needed your best friend.

You’d already pounded on the door like crazy twice by the time you first heard movement from inside. What the hell was Namjoon busy with now? Hadn't he called Jungkook up just a while earlier, causing the boy to wake you up?

It was one o'clock on a Sunday morning, anyway. There was no way someone like Namjoon was busy.

Wait. Hadn’t he been at the party last night, too? You couldn’t really recall, to be honest.

God, what was Hobi serving last night? 

Tapping your feet impatiently, you scratched at your cheek. The water base, super dry moisturiser you’d stolen from your boyfriend’s roommate was definitely not meant to suit your skin type. But you had no choice. You were in a crisis. You had needed to escape the dorm before Taehyung came out of the bathroom, and you couldn’t have exactly walked out with the remnants of last night’s vampire makeup all over your face.

You looked down at your ridiculous attire consisting of the leather shorts you wore last night, topped with a huge, off white sweatshirt you'd found lying over the living room couches. You guessed it was Taehyung's, but you were, embarrassingly, not completely certain and it very well could have been Jungkook's. Either way, it didn't really matter, ’cause, as mentioned before, you were in a freaking crisis. Your feet were wrapped up in the spare pair of bathroom slippers you kept at Tae's.

Exhaling loudly, you pulled up your arm to bang heavily against the damn door, again. "Where the fuck are you, Namjoon? Open up!"

Mere seconds later, grumbles seeped through the door to you, and then it was slowly unbolted.

You were gonna straight up fall into Namjoon and legit beg him to comfort you until your body melted—

"Well, hello there, sexy cheeks! What a pleasant surprise!"

You groaned aloud. Just what you needed to make this morning a bigger headache—your best friend's roadside romeo, can-never-keep-it-in-his-pants, creep of a roommate. "Jackson. Get the fuck out of my w—"

"And, FYI, I was referring to your ass cheeks."

You gritted your teeth. "Where's Joon?"

The cocky guy in front of you shifted to set his hips against the doorjamb. "Sleeping. He came in late, last night. That damned loser was at the party till two am on a Saturday night, and didn’t even bring a girl back home. What a fucking waste."

You squinted at him. "Bullshit. He called Jungkook earlier."

"Yeah, well, he went back to sleep after that. It's Sunday, sexy cheeks, even a nerd like Joon is allowed to sleep in today. He's been working his ass off at the library for a couple nights, anyway."

"Stop stereotyping him." You rolled your eyes. "Will you move?"

Jackson's silver blonde hair moved across his forehead as he tilted his head to look at you with a sly grin. "What if I refuse?"

"I'll stab you and walk over your body."

His eyes momentarily widened, but then he gave a nervous giggle. "O–oh? We won't want that to happen now, would we? Come on in, sexy cheeks!"

"Stop calling me that!" you snapped, walking into the dorm and heading straight towards Namjoon's bedroom.

"What? But that's my pet name for you! I don't wanna call you Angel like the rest of the fucking college!"

"It's just seven guys, Wang, jeez. Also, I actually have a name?" you yelled over your shoulder, fiddling with the awful door knob on Namjoon's bedroom door that was almost always jammed. Like it was right now. Good God!

"Your name? That's so mainstream, babe, have some respect for my vibe, at the very least."

"I'm not your babe!"

"But you could be!"

"I'll slap you, Jackson, shut the—" you broke off with a grunt as the doorknob finally twisted free. But your relief had a super short life, because then you had to nearly cause your shoulder to rupture when you tried to get the door to budge. "Why does this idiot not complain about getting this shitty fucking door changed? He'll get stuck in there someday and die, I'm telling you."

"Whoa. You're contemplating way too many murders for a Sunday morning, sexy cheeks. All okay?"

You shot him a glare over your shoulder. "You want me to actually commit one of them?"

Jackson's eyes widened and he slowly retracted his steps to the kitchen, where he presumably was before he came to open the door, given the apron he'd tied over his muscle tee and the random patches of white powder that covered his exposed upper arms. You rolled your eyes once again, and gave a particularly hard push to the door, making yourself stumble in as the door suddenly opened.

Namjoon stood on the other side, though, eyes barely open and silver blonde hair mussed. 

He was shirtless, in the process of trying to unwind a twisted up t-shirt. "Whoa, whoa—hol' up—when did I say you could come in?"

You paused. Your eyebrows lowered. Your eyes narrowed. The audacity?!

"I've seen you pantless, Namjoon," you deadpanned. 

"Wha—is that even a word—"

"Dude, I've seen your penis when it wasn't as big as my pinky toe!"

"Okay, hang on now, it's got to be at least the pinky finger—"

"We were four. It was the pinky toe." You exhaled when Namjoon gave up and went back to getting into a t-shirt over his plaid shorts. "Are you not looking at me, right now? Do you not see what kind of a wreck I am? What sort of a best friend are you?"

"Uh, a sleep deprived one? And, for the record, I actually am not looking at you, 'cause my eyes aren't exactly open and functioning at the moment, anyway."

You shot him a glare, but then exhaled and slumped down on his bed with your shoulders drooped. "I fucked up, Joonie."

Namjoon stopped in the process of blindly hunting for his glasses in the top drawer of his nightstand. He looked at you, complete with his swollen ass eyes and bee stung lips. You would have laughed if your own tragedy wasn't laughable in itself.

"Stop gawking!"

Namjoon shut his mouth and straightened up. "I, uh… You fucked up? Kinda hard to swallow. You're an inspiration to everyone, babe. Angel never fucks up."

You groaned a little upon hearing the wretched "pet name" tumble so smoothly from your best friend's lips. "Angel? Really, Joon?"

Namjoon shrugged, standing on his toes and extending his arms above his head in a full body stretch before he settled on the twin bed next to you. "I've got to, hun. You know how Jin hyung gets when he hears any of us call you anything but Angel."

"He's not here right now, though, is he?"

"Well, I'm trying to practice." He shrugged a shoulder. "So, are you here to pointlessly argue with me, or are you here to discuss how, exactly, did you fuck up? You were with Tae last night from what I gathered out of Jungkook's flustered half-sentences. Did something happen between you guys?"

"Yes?" You grimaced. And then you thickly swallowed. "I… I had sex with Taehyung.”

You looked at him when Namjoon had been silent for too long. He was blinking at you. "I don't see any fucking up happening, Angel, only fucking Tae."

Oh, how you'd slap him into the next galaxy if you had the energy at the moment. "Kim Namjoon, I swear to God—"

"Okay, okay, sorry. So. How does having sex with your boyfriend equate to fucking up? What'd I miss?"

You sighed. "I was completely hammered, and don't remember a single thing."

Namjoon's eyebrows rose very slowly. "Wait…what?"

You frowned. "Don't make me repeat it, Joon."

"I'm not, girl, but. Just. I—I don't seem to comprehend."

"I had sex with him for the first fucking time, Namjoon, and I don't remember a single detail! You know, I wanted to know how it all went down, how intense, sexy and gorgeous he looked on top of me. I wanted to save it to my memory. If he was on top. Otherwise, what he looked like when desperate and begging below me."

"Wait—"

"But I remember nothing! I'm so embarrassed, Joon! Maybe he put those gorgeous ass fingers of his to good use. I bet he did!"

"Hey—"

"I don't even know if he ate me out or if I sucked him off, because I would have loved to, before we—"

"Holy fuck, stop! I don’t wanna hear that, gross!" Namjoon pressed both his palms against his ears, his face pulled into an expression of utter disgust. His mouth opened, probably to give you a piece of scolding, but then his gaze dropped to your exposed collarbones and his eyebrows raised. He removed his hands with wide eyes. "Now, I don’t know about those dirty freaking details, and I don’t want to—but I can guess that your night was definitely passionate. Maybe a bit rough."

You frowned, following his line of sight—

And then sprung to your feet with a loud gasp. "Holy fucking shit! What the hell—"

"Whoa—"

You gripped the neckline of the hoodie and tugged it away from your chest. "He left bruises, Joon, these aren't just bites!"

"Wait, wait—"

"God damn—" You struggled to wrestle the hoodie off your body.

"No—"

"I need to fucking see, Joon—"

"But I don't!" Namjoon squeaked. 

You managed to remove the hoodie completely, your hands busy patting around your boobs to feel for bruises. You looked up at your best friend to find him turned away with both his palms pressed up against his eyes.

It took you a moment to realise that he was throwing a fit about you being topless in front of him. You exhaled. "Must I remind you that you've seen me pantless, too, Joon?"

"We were kids! And now we're not! I don't wanna pop a boner for my childhood best friend that I've shared poops with!"

You grimaced. "You won't, Joon. It's as you said—we've shared poops. It's physically impossible for us to get turned on by each other."

"I'm still a straight guy, though, and boobs are boobs."

You clicked your tongue, choosing to walk into his bathroom to, partially, save him from dying out of panic, but mostly analyse your upper body in the mirror. 

You hummed to yourself when you found a blossoming patch of pink right under your left boob, and an almost navy spot above your right nipple.

You fought a whimper of despair. Sex with Taehyung seemed like something that’d get you wet by memories alone. But you'd already missed your first chance to make them.

You grumpily stomped back to Namjoon's bed and collected the hoodie you'd tossed on it. Pulling it over, you smacked a turned away Namjoon upside his head. "I'm dressed, loser."

"Not wanting to see your boobs makes me a loser?"

"Making a big fucking deal out of it while I'm stuck in a very embarrassing and kind of an impossible situation does!"

“Oh my God, fine! Let’s just talk about that stupid, overthinking brain of yours.”

Your mouth falls open. “The fuck? I’m not overthinking, Joon, for the love of—”

“Okay! Just—stop with all the cursing, you sound like Yoongi hyung!” Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s get the basics down, then. Observe, analyse and calculate. You’ll tell me about how you feel in certain...areas of your body, and then we’ll conclude if any sex even actually happened or if you’re fussing over nothing. ’Kay?”

You dumbly blinked. If any sex even actually happened? You didn’t need any testing for that, Taehyung’s face had been more than enough to tell you. “No?” you sneered at Namjoon. “I know it happened. I need to know how to recall the details. Do you know, like, some brain exercise or something? Like, running a mental disk defragmenter of sorts?”

Namjoon sighed. “Listen—”

“Also, can you please dye your hair and stop twinning with the asshole next door? I feel like I’m talking to him and it makes me wanna puke.”

Namjoon sighed again. “He’s gonna dye his hair to match mine like he always does, it’s pointless.”

“Then shave it off.”

“Ouch, woman.”

“What?” You scowled at him, rummaging through his wardrobe to try and make yourself slightly more presentable. “And get ready. We’re gonna go get some breakfast. Greasy and cheesy. And you’re gonna tell me what to do. And I’m calling Munchkin to join us.”

As you carried a pair of sweatpants into the bathroom, you heard your best friend murmur something like, “this is gonna be a long day.”

Taehyung sat sprawled all over the living room couch, barely looking up when Jungkook's room's door opened. His eyes kept digging holes into your phone that you'd left behind when you made your—very obviously hurried—exit while he was in the shower. Why, though?

Taehyung was fucking confuddled.

"Oh, finally!" Jungkook's surprised voice floated over to him moments before the boy himself rounded the couch to look down at him, entering his peripheral vision with a water bottle in hands. "Where's noona? Tell her to call Namjoon hyung, he rang me up…worrying…about her…um. Hyung? You okay?"

Taehyung blinked, raising his brows as he hummed in question, refocusing his gaze on the younger boy. "What?"

"Did you, uh, hear anything I said?" Jungkook looked at him cautiously, taking wary sips of water.

"Yeah, I heard." Taehyung looked down at his hands. "She's not here, she left."

"Left? On her own? You didn’t drop her off?" Jungkook sounded innocently curious. He chuckled. "You still hungover, or what?"

Taehyung sighed. "Well, no. But she didn't ask me to drop her. Didn't even tell me she was leaving. Also left her phone behind, for some reason."

"Maybe she was in a hurry to get away from you after last night?" Jungkook's eyes were wide in alarm even before Taehyung shot him a glare. "Sorry, I didn't… Um. That was a stupid joke, I don’t even know why I said that when I don't even know anything. Um. Sorry."

"No, you're probably right," Taehyung regretfully mumbled, raking a hand through his hair. "She was gone within five minutes."

"And is that why she stole my hoodie, too?"

Taehyung's head snapped up, again. What did he mean by that? He found Jungkook frowning at one of the armrests of the couch. "The fuck did you say?"

Jungkook's big, innocent eyes looked at him in panic. "I—I mean, I left it here after I spilt ketchup on it! Remember yesterday's lunch burgers? And now it's…well. Not here."

Taehyung rolled his eyes, secretly exhaling in relief, while at the same time annoyed at himself for thinking stupid shit. And also at Jungkook for making him think it. "The hell, Kook? How does that mean she took it?"

Jungkook squinted at him. "Okay, so then did you take it? Because I sure as heck didn't touch it, hyung."

Taehyung stilled, realising that the boy was probably right, because the top you'd worn last night was still lying on his bedroom floor. He bit his lip. Had you actually been in such a hurry to get away? Get away from him?

Did you…hate him for last night? But you'd very clearly reassured him that you wanted it and were ready and you looked actually excited about it. 

You’d looked really excited about it.

But maybe you were too sloshed to think then, but were trying to avoid him with your mind sober. Maybe you regretted agreeing.

Oh no. Oh no.

"We were drunk off our asses, last night," he tried to fruitlessly dissuade Jungkook, his voice coming out tight. Because what did it even matter if you'd already changed your mind? "Maybe your drunk ass used it to clean up your whizz and then threw it out your window and forgot?"

Jungkook's gaze turned even more speculative. 

Taehyung looked away, eyes landing back on your phone. Distress gripped him.

"Um."

Taehyung rolled his eyes. "Say it."

Jungkook cleared his throat, awkwardly scratching the back of his head when Taehyung looked up to meet his shifty eyes. "Did you, uh. Did you and noona have a fight?"

Taehyung slunk lower in his place. "No, but we would now."

Jungkook cleared his throat in response before soundly gulping down water.

Taehyung almost laughed at his discomfort. The younger probably felt Taehyung needed some sort of counseling or suggestions, but he really didn't. And it wasn't just because he and Jungkook were not the best of friends despite being roommates for nearly a year now and part of the same group of friends for nearly six. No, he actually did not want it because that would make him worry that much more. He'd rather talk to you—apologize to you and try to make you understand as much as he'd be able to—whenever you decided to contact him.

Not that Jungkook would be good at consoling him, either way—the boy was horrible with words and had zero tact. His world revolved around gaming and studying music and minimal human interaction, a complete contrast to everything Taehyung was. Which was somewhat of a reason why they worked out so well as roommates.

"Uh…we…um. Nevermind." Jungkook turned to leave.

Taehyung mustered a chuckle. "Say it, Kook." 

"Do you wanna go to Jin hyung's?" he spoke in a single breath.

Jin—the oldest in their group of friends and also the one Taehyung was the closest to—lived in a four bedroom apartment shared by Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin, and often, Jin's girlfriend, too, which was owned by a family member of Hoseok's. Namjoon, your best friend and the final member of the group, lived in a dorm on the other side of the campus, similar to Taehyung's own, with a school friend of his.

Now. Jungkook, being the youngest of the entire lot, was extremely insecure and conscious of himself around Jin. And so, despite nearly licking the very ground Yoongi walked on due to the guy's musical prowess that Jungkook was a fan of, the younger boy always tried to avoid visiting the house if not for extreme case scenarios when the entire group gathered there for activities that he was not allowed to skip. He usually just called Yoongi over.

And he was suggesting they visit? This had to have taken some guts.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow at him. "You wanna go to that house?"

"Well, not really." Jungkook's cheeks tinged pink. "But you look like you could use Jin hyung's advice and stuff. He also, um, makes yummy hot chocolate. Jimin hyung and Hobi hyung could cheer you up, and. Um. Yoongi hyung could help me with my…semester project?"

"And here I thought you were being thoughtful!" Taehyung let out a laugh. “You just want Yoongi hyung’s help, you selfish brat.”

Jungkook ducked his head. “A little bit of both?” He clicked his tongue, whining. "Come on, hyung, I'm trying here!"

"I know, I know." Taehyung rolled his eyes but nodded, ending Jungkook's misery.

He eyed your phone and released a shaking, nervous breath. 

“Well, I'm sort of driving myself nuts by sitting here. Let’s just go.”

“This is a disaster.”

You thumped your head against the table, groaning. “Gee, thanks, babe. Makes me feel so much better. I should’ve just gone back to the dorm. Wendy would’ve given me ice cream, at least.”

Your other only-best-friend-in-this-world—other than Namjoon, that is—rolled her mascara laden eyes. “It’s not my duty to make you feel better. I’m here to show you the mirror and be honest, not give you ice cream and kiss your boo-boos like your pussy roommate. That’s not helping. That’s ignoring the problem.”

“Fair point.” You sat up and looked down in your lap. “So. Do you honestly think I’m doomed?”

“I honestly think you’re stupid.”

You shot a glare at her.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing! You yourself said you both had your lower regions covered, right?” At your nod, she clicked her tongue. “So you’re not even sure if you had sex, in the first place. And even if you did, so what? He’s your freaking boyfriend, bitch! Grab him and do the do whenever!”

“Will you tone it down?” 

You jumped. And then scoffed when Namjoon settled on the empty chair on your other side, putting the tray of your frothing, steaming beverages down between you three.

"Tell me why you nicknamed this one munchkin and not guerrilla, again?" Namjoon grumbled, scowling at your girl best friend. "She's got their lung capacity."

"Because she's got munchkin legs," you mumbled, hurriedly bringing the styrofoam cup to your mouth to taste nirvana. “Ah, this is so good! And she walks super slow, like a freakin’ munchkin.”

"Oh, so that's also an insult?" Namjoon looked at your best friend with gleaming eyes. "I thought it was a pet name!"

Her eyes narrowed at Namjoon for a second, before her expressions dropped into a lascivious smile. "You thought it was cute, didn't you?" she dramatically batted her lashes, leaning closer to Namjoon, pushing her voluminous chest out. “You think I’m cute too, dontcha, Joon bug?”

Namjoon, immune to her dramatic, completely unnecessary seduction, blew a raspberry in her face. 

“Ew, you animal!” she shrieked, flinching away as droplets of spit rained on her face. “Gross!”

“You asked for it,” Namjoon deadpanned, sipping from his cup. 

“Guys,” you began. “Can we please talk about what I should do?”

“Uh, can I please also mention what you should not have done?” Munchkin squinted at you. At your noncommittal shrug, her expressions morphed into a sharp glare. “Sneak out. I mean, he’s your damn boyfriend of nearly quarter of a year, babe! Why the hell would you want to confide in Captain Dumbass, over here, and not him?”

“My IQ’s greater than you, but other than that—valid point, dude.” Namjoon turned to stare you down. “When it all winds down, and you end up sorting it out, he’s still gonna be hurt that you ran away, man.”

You bit your lip. You hadn’t thought of it that way. “I forgot my phone at his place, too, so I couldn’t even text him.”

This time Munchkin turned her horrified gaze at Namjoon, and Namjoon at you. “What?” he squeaked. “You haven’t even texted him this entire time? Why didn’t you ask for my phone?”

“It’s almost three,” Munchkin mumbled. “He’s gonna be so pissed.” Her eyes suddenly turned wicked. “Imagine the angry sex.”

You snorted, bitterly. “How? I got fucking amnesia after our first time together, remember? I don’t even know what to imagine.”

Your best friends groaned in unison.

The second Hoseok invited them in, Jungkook went off like an arrow towards the direction of Yoongi's room.

Taehyung gave a dry chuckle, raising his eyebrows at Hoseok’s puffy eyes as he waved his hand before the guy’s face in greeting. “Good morning, hyung!” he said with fake cheeriness to grate on the elder’s nerves. 

Hoseok gave him the most venomous scowl Taehyung had ever seen on the guy’s face and walked away.

“He was cleaning up till six am and then Jin hyung woke him up at nine to go grocery shopping!” Jimin called from his slump on the couch, past the entry hall. “Poor guy didn’t even get to get his dick wet in his own party.”

“Of course you’d mention that,” Taheyung snorted, moving to join Jimin in what seemed like a Netflix marathon. “What’s this?” He nodded towards the 50-inch.

“Pretty Little Liars,” Jimin mumbled, lifting his feet enough to make room for Taehyung and then rested them back in his lap. “It’s a story of some girls. Who lie. Because that is all that girls fucking do, apparently.”

Taehyung, despite his mental disposition, found himself snorting in amusement for the second time. “Where’s Jin hyung?”

“Dropping noona off at Jackson’s. They’re in a fight, so don’t ask him about her.” Jimin raised a brow. “All okay?”

“They're fighting? How're you handling it?" Taehyung teased, well aware of Jimin's fear of conflicts between the group's oldest couple, and got a glare back. "And, not all's okay. Kinda had a shitty night.”

“Could not have been shittier than mine. You came in with your babe, made out in every corner of the house, held her when she did a keg stand, leftmaking out—what could go wrong?”

Taehyung grimaced but didn’t protest. “When did Jin hyung leave? I didn’t see him on my way over. Why’s Honey noona even friends with that pretentious jackass Jackson, nobody likes him,” he chose to comment on Jin’s girlfriend’s questionable life choices, instead.

“Nobody but Namjoon. Don’t forget they live together. And he and noona are family friends, you know that.” Jimin frowned. “Why’re you so eager to see Jin hyung? He didn’t really say when he’d get back. Maybe he and Honey noona are…making-up. If you know what I mean. I sincerely hope they are,” he added with a despaired stare skywards as if tossing a prayer up to God.

“Shut up, pervert. I'll just text him.” Taehyung waved a dismissive hand, pulling out his phone.

Jimin cleared his throat. “At least ask me why my night was shittier, you ass.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, shooting Jimin a flat look. “You didn’t get laid, I already know it.”

“Well, that, yes. But also, the circumstances leading up to me not getting laid? Ugh.” Jimin scrunched his nose. “So there’s this cute, little, busty babe, okay? Shaking her boobs up in my face, and I know she wants to fuck, but. I can see how sloshed she is, so I, you know? Hold back.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrows, still typing away on his phone. “Doubt that.”

“I did, okay? Wait till you hear the rest of it.” Jimin’s head dangled off the armrest, upside down and Taehyung could only see his neck as he spoke. “She comes on too strong, and at one point—I can’t resist. But when she’s on her knees, she’s so confused that I… man, I felt so bad. She was wasted, dude!” Jimin pulled himself back up, nestling his head against the armrest as he frowned at Taehyung. “So I tell her no. She cries. I try to comfort her, but she just keeps sobbing. And then she fucking throws up all over my carpet and—I still fucking try to take care of her. And, you know, after I’ve given her hugs and a water bottle and so much pep talk—her phone rings and she says she has to go. Now, get this.” Jimin sits up, now scowling at Taehyung. “She has a fucking boyfriend.”

Taehyung couldn’t hold back the laughter that burst out of him, his head rolling back against the back of the couch as he held his stomach. Just the one time in his life Jimin tried to be a gentleman, it backfired. But it served Jimin right for trying to get into everyone’s pants. He told the guy as much.

Jimin scoffed. “I don’t try to get into everyone’s pants, dude. I’ve never tried to turn the charm on you, have I?”

“’Cause you know you’d fail.”

“I would not and you better believe that, Kim Taehyung.” Jimin suddenly licked his lips and sat up to get into Taehyung's personal space. “You see these lips? They—”

“Yah, Park Jimin! Get your paws off my dongsaeng!” Jin entered the house with a booming yell.

Taehyung sighed in relief, grateful for more reasons than one. “Morning, hyung!”

“It’s afternoon, brat!”

“I thought he was your dongsaeng?” Jimin mocked. “And for the record, he’s mine, too.”

“I’m barely three months younger, Jimin, fuck off.”

“Tae! Leave this idiot be and go wait in my room. I’ll join you in a bit.”

Taehyung stood up to locate Jin to find the older one heating something up in the microwave, aggressively pushing things around. It was a strange sight. Jin’s temperament was always cooler than a cucumber. And he especially tended to his kitchen appliances and utensils with an impossibly tender hand. He was clearly agitated, completely unlike how he normally was. Was his fight with his girlfriend that bad? 

As if sensing his gaze, Jin looked up, concern shining in his eyes when they met Taehyung’s. Taehyung imagined his own must have reflected it back. “You okay, hyung?”

Jin sighed. “Been better,” he tiredly mumbled, running a hand down his face. “I saw your texts. I gather you haven’t eaten?”

Taehyung nodded, silently, walking around the couch to join the older in the kitchen. Settling on a stool, he observed Jin's furrowed eyebrows and set jaw. Something had to have happened recently, or he'd have noticed something in Jin's behaviour earlier.

“I haven’t eaten either, hyung,” Jimin yelled from the living room, sounding offended instead of whiny or seductive, for once. “This sort of favoritism is too much, even for you.”

Jin narrowed his eyes at Jimin. “You know, every time Honey ignores me, I'm immediately reminded of how you could have taken that blonde to your own room, Park Jimin. So no, the favouritism isn't too much. And for the record, you’re more than capable of feeding yourself. This one? Not so much, right now.”

Taehyung hung his head, curious about what all Jin just said to Jimin, but also immensely floored by Jin’s concern for his own well being. Despite clearly not being in the right state of mind himself, he was still caring for Taehyung. He mentally thanked Jungkook for bringing him here.

Clearing his throat, Taehyung placed his hands on the kitchen counter. “When I didn't see Honey-noona at the party last night, I thought it was work related. You two often skip parties to catch up on your beauty sleep and all that. Is something the matter, hyung?"

Jin extracted some sort of noodles from the microwave and shut his eyes. "She's mad at me."

Taehyung's eyebrows rose. Jin and his girl had been together for over five years, now. They were past the stages of fighting over petty things. It had to be serious. "Oh?"

"And it was triggered by something that idiot did!" Jin finished, pointing an accusatory finger at Jimin.

The latter clicked his tongue. "For the last time, hyung," Jimin called out, sounding exasperated, "she’s mad over something else. The sooner you figure that out instead of blaming me every time you meet her, the faster your fight would be resolved.” He peeked at Jin over the couch's back. "And can you please make a quick work of it? I hate this phase…"

Taehyung’s eyebrows lifted up. Escaping the blame—classic Jimin. “What, exactly, did you do, Jimin? What blonde didn’t you take to your own room?” he asked, repeating Jin’s words from earlier.

“Irrelevant. He’s actually correct,” Jin interrupted, walking out of the kitchen. “You'll understand when I tell you. But right now, let’s talk about your problem. Come on.”

Although Taehyung was both curious and worried about Jin’s fight, he was more downtrodden due to his own situation at the moment, so he decided to follow the older boy upstairs, to Jin's room.

On entering the room, Taehyung slumped into Jin’s armchair while the man himself turned on the lights and made his way towards Taehyung with a water bottle and a huge bowl of reheated chicken noodles in hands.

Taehyung uncapped the bottle as soon as it was handed to him, not realising how badly parched all the worrying had gotten him. 

“I, uh, went to the shop you texted me. Have you guys really talked it through?”

Taehyung’s head snapped up. “What?” he asked, swallowing a huge gulp of water.

Jin cracked a smile for the first time. “One of the thirteen texts you sent me was about this shop, remember? It was on the way, so I dropped by to look around, but I couldn't really choose—”

Taehyung’s phone rang, interrupting Jin. It was Namjoon. They both frowned.

What if the guy was still calling to ask about you, like he did this morning? Taehyung had assumed that you’d have talked to Namjoon, at least. His eyes widened when it hit him — you’d left your phone behind, how would you contact anybody?

He looked at Jin. Jin crossed his arms in front of his chest, gesturing to the phone with his eyes. “Pick it up.”

With sweaty hands, Taehyung picked up. “Hey, Joon hyung.”

Silence. He frowned.

“Hello?”

More silence. And then a hushed, indecipherable whisper sounded in the background which was followed by what sounded like a slap. Taehyung’s breath hitched.

“Angel?”

A sharp intake of breath filtered through the speakers to him. But then nothing else.

“Whe—” He cleared his throat when his voice broke. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Tae.” Your voice was light, airy, almost like a whisper, but it managed to weigh down on his heart. “I’m okay.”

Of course, you were. You’d chosen to see Namjoon, apparently. Why wouldn’t you be okay?

“I—I’m sorry for leaving like…that. I hope you didn’t take it the wrong way.”

Taehyung was at a loss. “Wrong way? Angel, I…” He exhaled, shutting his eyes. In what way had he taken it? In what way was he supposed to take it? “Why did you leave, baby?”

No response. Taehyung’s heart seemed to keep on sinking.

“When can I see you again? We need to talk about last night. You know that, right?” He licked his lips and looked up at Jin. At the elder’s nod, he continued, “we need to finalize what we discussed. You get me?”

“I’ll see you tonight, Tae.” Your voice sounded tightly wound with emotions.

Taehyung took that as a good sign. “That’s great. I’ll be…I, uh. Just text me when you get to the dorm. Your phone’s on the coffee table. I’m at Jin hyung’s, I’ll come immediately.”

“Okay, I’ll do that. Um. Tae? I love you.”

Taehyung could breathe again. “I love you, too, Angel. I love you so much.”

He’d barely disconnected the call when Jin grabbed him by the shoulders. “Get some food in you and come with me. I went to the shop, but couldn’t really make the right purchase. You’ll have to do that yourself.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “But I already told her to come see me! You nodded!”

Jin rolled his eyes, taking a spoonful of noodles and stuffing them into Taehyung’s mouth that was hung open in surprise. “Because we have plenty of time, genius! It’s three in the afternoon. We’d be able to make it back before six, at any cost. Don’t worry about it.”

Taehyung took the bowl of food from him, his appetite announcing itself as soon as a bite of savoury deliciousness touched his tongue. Stuffing his face, he nodded at his phone. “Could you please put that to charge? It’s almost dead.”

And then he smiled to himself. He was gonna make everything right, tonight.

“I’m pretty sure five o’clock doesn’t count as ‘night’ in any culture across the globe.”

You ignored Munchkin’s sarcastic remark as you stepped out of the car, and gave Namjoon a grateful peck on his cheek. “Thank you for bringing me here, Joon.”

“Great. Ignore me and then cry when there’re consequences.”

Waving a butterfly wave at a fuming Munchkin and a chuckling Namjoon, you stepped into Taehyung’s dorm building. You knew you were early, but your nerves didn’t allow you to sit still at Namjoon’s place. You didn’t dare go back to your own dorm, knowing how chaotic Wendy tended to get and not able to muster the energy you usually needed to deal with her.

Taehyung lived in the larger, spacier and definitely pricier North Dorms. They were more like mini-apartments, with individual rooms and a living room area along with a whole kitchen instead of the tiny kitchenette you had with your own South Dorms. Namjoon lived in the East Dorms, similar in design to these, but in a wackier condition and slightly less pricey.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. You would take your phone, text Taehyung to inform him of your arrival, have a glass of water, and patiently wait. Jungkook wasn’t much of a talker, anyway, so you’d have some time to yourself before Taehyung for here, which you planned to utilise by giving yourself mental pep talks. 

You were gonna come clean to your boyfriend and tell him that you remembered none of last night, profusely apologise for panicking and running out on him, and then, if the mood allowed for it, request him to give you a refresher that you’d be sure to memorise properly, this time.

The door was opened. Jungkook immediately jumped, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets when he saw you. “Oh, my God!”

You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Hey, Jungkook. May I come in?”

He gaped at you for a few more seconds before shaking his head as if to break his shock induced trance. “Ye—uh. I mean, yes, you could, but hyung’s not home.”

You nodded. “I know.”

Just as you’d made to move ahead, Jungkook stopped you. His eyebrows were arched. “Unless, you don’t wanna see him and are here to grab your things—in which case, I really won’t let you in.”

You frowned. “What? No, I need to get my phone so that—”

“Absolutely not!” Jungkook blocked the door with an arm. “You’ve got to talk to hyung once before making any rash decisions, and I won’t—”

“Wait, what? Rash decisions?”

“—might be a bit young and inexperienced, but I will not be an accomplice in the ploy to get Tae hyung’s heart broken—”

“Heart broken?” You balked at him while Jungkook kept on spewing stuff that made absolutely no sense to you. “Jungkook?”

“—no clue what actually happened, but because you really should’ve stayed to talk instead of running away from hyung—”

“Jungkook!”

“—not been emotional, but this really kind of hurt me, too, and you have no idea how much hyung was—”

“For fucks sake, Jungkook!” You held the guy with both his shoulders, making him immediately shut up. “Are you even listening to me? Stop speaking!” 

He blinked. “Um—”

“Stop!” You held a finger in front of his face. “Zip it up. Zero noise. Absolute silence.”

At his nod, you retracted your hands and pushed past him to enter the dorm. Collapsing onto the couch, you picked up your phone which was kept on the coffee table—just as Tae had told you it would be—and opened your chat box with him.

Tae❤ hey babe, im here ik im a bit early but dw, take your time i will wait i love u 🥺

SENT at 17:03

“I have come to talk to Tae and apologize, Jungkook,” you finally said, turning to face the guy who was still awkwardly standing at the open door. “Now please shut the door and go back to whatever you were doing. I’m gonna be here, waiting till he comes. I’ve texted him.”

Jungkook closed the door, very slowly, still looking at you warily. “You aren’t going to break up with him?”

“What? Of course not! I love him!”

He visibly relaxed, even letting a hint of a smile swim onto his face. “That’s good to hear. I thought I’d messed up.”

You frowned, scrunching your nose up in confusion. “Wait a second, you had messed up? How?”

Releasing an immensely loud sigh, Jungkook walked up to sit next to you on the couch. “Uh…” He bit his lip, fidgeting with his hands. “Well, you all know how horrible I am with words, right? It’s half the reason why I don’t talk much. I get too upfront, accidentally, and it gets horribly worse if I’ve deduced a situation wrongly and spoken about it.”

You gave a small chuckle. Jungkook was adorable, at times, looking way younger than his age. Not that you knew his exact age. You were certain he called you noona just because Taehyung was his hyung, and not because he knew your exact age. You could turn out to be younger than him, and he’d give you the same amount of respect and formality. “You just did that to me, a few minutes back.”

Jungkook shut his eyes with a wince. “Exactly. I did something similar this morning, and said stuff that I had no way of knowing facts about. And…” he trailed off again, this time squinting at your...well, boobs.

You immediately straightened. “Yah! What are you looking at?”

Jungkook looked up with rounded eyes. “That’s my hoodie.”

You looked down at yourself and physically cringed. You were the worst girlfriend in the world to not be able to tell the difference between your boyfriend's hoodies and his roommate’s. “Oh, God. Oh no, I’m so sorry. This is so embarrassing.”

Jungkook gave a small, awkward nod. “It’s fine, you’re okay.”

You shook your head at yourself. “It’s been a horrible day, Kook.”

“I’m gonna have to agree with that."

You both sat in silence for a while, and you recalled how you’d imagined you’d get peace and quiet because Jungkook didn’t talk much. You mentally snorted. The guy hadn’t exchanged as many words with you in eight months, as he did today. 

Your eyes fell onto the TV in front of you. You squinted at the animated, white-ish balloon-ish things.

"Is that Soul?" you speculated.

Jungkook's cheeks and ears pinked. "Um, yes."

You lifted the remote and wordlessly unpaused the movie.

Settling on the carpet on the ground next to the coffee table, Jungkook munched on some nuts as you both watched. 

The movie was good – really good and engaging, so much so that you didn't check your phone for over an hour. When it pinged with a message, you suddenly recalled that Taehyung hadn't responded to your text. Sitting up, you grabbed the device to check.

18:23 Munchkin😾 (1 new message) 

You sighed in disappointment. 

Scrolling past your best friend's inquisitive message, you got to your chat with Taehyung. You frowned. The message hadn't been delivered, yet.

"Want some?"

You looked up with a start to find Jungkook's hand holding the bowl of nuts to you, his head still facing the TV. You cleared your throat. "Um, no, I'm good."

He retracted his hand without a word. "You okay, noona?"

You bit your lip. "Taehyung hasn't received my text, yet."

This time Jungkook twisted his neck to look up at you. The odd angle made it difficult to discern what expressions he held, but knowing him, it was probably surprise—his resident facial expressions, next to only occasional grimaces.

"He said he was at Jin oppa's and would come here as soon as I texted him, but…"

Jungkook hummed, turning back. "He is there, yes. We went together, but I left early because Yoongi hyung had to go to his studio. And I don't like to hangout with anybody else in that house."

You snorted at that, sobering the next second. You exhaled. "I think I should call him."

Jungkook gave a simple nod. You stood up with your phone to your ear. But then you stopped, mid-step. Taehyung's phone was switched off.

This was very unlike Taehyung. 

You pursed your lips in concern. He'd sounded fine—if not more than a little low—when you talked on the phone. He didn't sound angry, that is to say. Did something happen in the meanwhile? You wondered what it could be, because as far as you knew, you hadn't done anything wrong other than running off to Namjoon for help. But it had been nearly three hours since your talk, so you couldn't really be certain about Taehyung’s mood anymore.

You were at a loss. What the hell were you supposed to do? Just stay here and wait? 

But what if Taehyung was really mad for some reason and didn't come at all, and you had to stay the night? You were certain he wouldn't appreciate you staying in his dorm with his male roommate alone, overnight. Taehyung was far from an insecure or controlling boyfriend, but put in his shoes, even you would be irked if he were staying over at your dorm with just Wendy around.

You groaned at your chain of thoughts. What were you even thinking? This was so stupid. He would be here any minute, and this would all come to an end. You really wanted to slap your drunk self for putting you into this mess. Or, you realised, you could slap Hoseok for throwing the stupid party with memory wiping liquor, in the first place.

You sat back down on the couch with a thump. You were being unreasonably paranoid.

You took a few deep breaths, looking from your phone to the TV screen, and then at the back of Jungkook's head. "Jungkook?"

He hummed in response.

"I need some advice."

Jungkook turned to look at you, eyes wide in evident alarm. "No. Please no. I'm horrifyingly bad at that."

You clicked your tongue. "Tae's phone is switched off. He never turns his phone off, Jungkook."

Jungkook looked taken aback as well. He probably knew the fact. "Maybe it got discharged?"

You sighed. "Jin oppa's house has plenty of chargers and charging points."

Jungkook looked uncomfortable at that, fidgeting with his hands as he trained his gaze at your feet. "Um. I… I am not sure what…" he trailed off, biting down on his lip, looking beyond lost. "I don't even know what happened."

You shut your eyes and massaged your forehead with both hands. "What happened is that I got extremely embarrassed about…well, yesterday. Something—something happened which made me too nervous to face Tae. Coming here after so many hours, I thought I was ready to apologise and talk it through, but the longer it's taking him to get there, the more uncertain I'm getting."

You took a breath after you'd poured it all out. Jungkook was the last person you'd expect to understand your situation and give advice. But he prompted you to tell him – and it flowed out.

You shut your eyes tighter.

"If—if you think you're not ready," Jungkook suddenly began after a heavy silence of a few extended seconds, "you can step back and take a breather. Take some time to yourself, analyse and then build up the courage. In my experience, saying the wrong words can be worse than keeping mum." 

His words gave you a pause. Namjoon and Munchkin's words came back to you. Taehyung was your boyfriend—you could talk to him, whenever. Why were you making such a big deal out of it? Well maybe because you didn't want the situation to deteriorate further. Jungkook was right. You should rethink your decision of coming clean to Taehyung, lest you create more problems between the two of you by upsetting him.

"Does… does any of that help?" Jungkook hesitantly asked you.

You gave him a big smile "I think it does."

As if on cue, the sound of a key turning in the door reached you. Jungkook's head whipped around to look at it.

You breathed in, preparing yourself.

“Why’s your phone turned off, hyung?” Jungkook accosted him at the door.

You saw your boyfriend over Jungkook’s shoulder. He was frowning, and was seemingly yet to notice you. “My phone?” He brushed a hand over his trousers’ pockets, dark, curly bangs brushing his eyelids as his head bent. You bit your lip. He was irresistibly handsome without even trying. “Oh fuck,” Taehyung enunciated, looking up at Jungkook very slowly. “I left it at Jin hyung’s. Did you say it was off?”

Taehyung stepped into the dorm, wide eyes immediately colliding with yours. “Um. Hey,” you squeaked, standing up.

“H—hi,” Taehyung stumbled on his words, eyes roving first on your face and then the rest of you. He momentarily frowned, probably recognizing Jungkook’s hoodie on you, and then met your eyes with a hesitant expression on his face. “How—how long were you waiting?”

You bit your lip. He seemed to be feeling guilty already. You reckoned it would be better to not add onto it. “Not long,” you simply responded.

Taehyung took baby steps towards you, while Jungkook glided around the place, shutting the door, turning the TV off, and then exited to his own room. You looked down at your feet, only looking back up when Taehyung’s own entered your vision. “Angel,” he whispered, his breath fanning your face. His deep brown eyes looked like pools of dark chocolate. “What happened?”

The simple question made tears prickle the back of your eyes. 

It was always so simple with Taehyung. He was never pretentious, never impatient, never expected the world out of you—and yet you did not share things with him like he deserved. Why did you always have to be so self conscious?

Something must have shown on your face, because the next second had Taehyung frowning and stepping forth to cup your face in both his palms.

“Hey, hey, what is it?” he murmured very softly, swiping his thumbs at your cheeks to wipe off the wetness trickling down your eyes. “Shh, it’s okay, come on,” he soothingly whispered before collecting you in his arms.

You rested your forehead on his collarbones, pulling your lower lip in to grab a hold of your emotions as you wound both your arms around his shoulders. “I love you so much, Tae,” you mumbled into his skin.

He inhaled and then exhaled, almost as if in relief. “I love you too, baby. I love you too,” he whispered into your hair, pressing a soft kiss into the crown of your head.

Pulling away, Taehyung held you by your upper arms and bent to peer into your eyes. His olive green Cuban collar shirt swayed with his movement, giving you a delicious glimpse of his toned chest. Realising how highly inappropriate it was to be thinking lascivious thoughts with tears in your eyes—when your boyfriend was trying to comfort you—you swallowed and focussed back on his eyes. 

“Now, tell me. What happened this morning?” Taehyung questioned you with a boundless softness in his gaze.

You cleared your throat. "Can we – can we move this to your room?"

Taehyung nodded, readily, wrapping his elegant fingers around your elbows to lead the two of you into his room. 

As you settled on the edge of his bed, your eyes caught your top from last night's outfit placed neatly folded at the top of Taehyung's dresser. You pursed your lips.

“So.” Taehyung sat down next to you on the bed, bumping his shoulders into yours.

You licked your lips, gathering courage. “I…this is gonna sound bad, babe, and, um, insulting even, but…” You turned to meet his eyes, desperately searching for any recognition. But you were met with cluelessness, and a subtle hint of apprehension. You sighed. “I — I had too much to drink last night, Tae.”

You felt him stiffen. His eyes gave away nothing. You waited for a couple heartbeats, expecting some indication that he was catching onto what you were trying to imply. Taehyung said nothing, though, and his face remained unmoving.

You looked down at your lap, wringing your fingers together. “I don’t know if I had too much, or if the combination made it so, but… I don’t—” You cleared your throat when your voice broke, chancing a glance at your boyfriend who was still as a statue. “I don’t remember a thing from last night. It’s all…a blur.”

Taehyung seemed to have stopped breathing, too, he’d gone so still. Very anxiously, you lifted your gaze to look at him.

You almost wished you hadn't, though. He looked shattered. Crushing disappointment was all over his face, hitting you like a lead arrow, and he wasn’t even looking at you. 

You felt like running away, your cheeks and ears burning in embarrassment. You tried to put yourself in Taehyung’s spot, employing your trusted tactic to discern how someone else must be feeling, but your head was too fuzzy with the unease you felt. You were mortified.

Taking a staggered breath in, you stood up on shaky legs. “I’m — I’m sorry, Tae,” you uttered, unsure if you were heard. “I really wish—”

“It’s fine, it’s okay. I understand,” Taehyung cut you off, suddenly, obviously trying to save face given the tight smile he had pulled up to flash at you beneath his saddened eyes. “It’s okay.”

You swallowed, shaking your head very slowly. “No,” you said. “It’s not okay, Tae. I — I wanted to make it memorable, too. Cherish the memories for life, however cliché might that sound. But I… I really blanked out, Tae.”

Taehyung’s brows got a slight crease in them by the time you were finished. But his eyes—those damned pools of love that you’d gotten so used to seeing boundless love in—looked strangely defeated. It almost felt like you’d done more than not remember a night of sex. 

But then you reprimanded yourself by underlining how it wasn’t just any night of sex—it had been the first time you and the love of your life became one. Knowing how sentimental Taehyung was, it had to have hurt him tremendously. This time you were very easily able to put yourself in his place and realise that you’d be pretty pissed if he had no recollection of something precious to you. You took a step away, suddenly overwhelmed by immense guilt. 

“Did nothing come back to you?” Taehyung asked, lips pouted and eyes rounded. “After so many hours, too?”

You shook your head, slowly. “I really tried, baby.”

Taehyung looked unconvinced, taking you by surprise. 

He didn’t, by any means, think that you were lying about it, did he? You wouldn’t put it past your boyfriend’s overthinking brain.

“I think I — I need a break,” you blurted out, watching in horror how any remainder of color left Taehyung’s face. Jungkook’s words came back to you: saying the wrong words can be worse than keeping mum.

“A break?” Taehyung gawked at you.

You quickly shook your head. “A breather. Space. Some — some time to get over my embarrassment.”

Taehyung looked confused, but you couldn’t bear to wait and extend this conversation. Twisting in place, you rushed out of there, on your way to your own dorm, this time. 

Taehyung sipped on Hoseok’s cheap beer, unseeing gaze stuck on the TV as some football match played on the screen. Next to him, Seokjin and Hoseok sat with their own bottles in hand. They were, decidedly, much more aware of the game than he was. 

“Gah! That was a red card, come on!” Hoseok suddenly exclaimed at the referee.

Seokjin snorted. “This referee is blind.”

“Or sold,” Hoseok grumbled.

Taehyung blinked, unable to focus on the game however hard he stared. Shaking his head, he took another gulp of the bitter liquid.

His soul had almost left his body when you'd said you needed a break. You wanting to be away from him after last night would have been his biggest nightmare come true.

But then you asked for space. To get over your embarrassment.

Why were you embarrassed? He couldn't, for the life of him, decipher that one. Did you really regret last night that bad? Had you changed your mind? Or was it something else altogether?

But what the hell could it even be, then?

Hoseok cleared his throat, drawing Taehyung's attention to the redhead. "You could try out a new painting, Tae. It'd be a nice outlet, and, y'know? They say you create your finest art when you got a heavy heart."

"Pretty sure that's not what they say, Hobi," Seokjin deadpanned.

"Something along those lines, hyung, catch my drift." Hoseok scowled at Seokjin. “Art’s supposed to take your mind off stuff, right?”

Taehyung exhaled, proceeding to chug down the rest of the drink in his bottle. "I can't," he murmured. "Angel is…" He stopped, shut his eyes and exhaled. "She's been my biggest muse ever since I met her, hyung. I can't paint when we're fighting."

Seokjin noisily exhaled, puffing his nostrils up. "Then maybe you could—ah, I don't know, invest in a different sort of art?"

Taehyung frowned at the guy in confusion. Hoseok, though, seemed to have gotten onto something. His head of flaming red hair bobbed erratically. "Yes, yes! Great idea, hyung! You should come with me to the rehearsal hall for some time, Tae. It's been ages since you've been there. It'd be a good distraction, take your mind off all this disappointment and hurt."

Taehyung clicked his tongue. "I'm not disappointed. I'm—I'm just… just hurt."

Seokjin sighed. "You mean you aren't even the slightest bit irked that she used the excuse of missing memory to evade your…well. You know." He gesticulated with a hand around the other. "You are, aren't you?"

"Not really." Taehyung frowned and shook his head. "I mean, well. yes. Of course, I would've preferred if she didn't try to evade it and just talked to me. But maybe she really can't recall anything, I'm not entirely sure. I mean, what's the difference, either way? It all boils down to the fact that she has backed off. And that is what's…" He broke off, taking in a shaky inhale. "What's hurting," he finished on an exhale.

They all went silent for a while. Seokjn hummed. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You love dance and you love Hobi’s routines, so… it could be therapeutic to you. But don’t force yourself, we’ll think of something else.” 

Taehyung exhaled, swiping a hand down his face. He really did love Hobi’s routines and it really had been ages since he’d been to the rehearsal hall. “No. No, I want to. I’ll join you tomorrow, Hobi hyung.” He passed the man a half smile, and got a full back. He huffed out a breath. “You guys wanna crack open something stronger than this?” he asked the two older guys, gesturing to his empty beer bottle.

Seokjin raised his hands in surrender. "I've got work, tomorrow."

But Hobi, the resident booze-man, grinned like a cheshire cat.

Your day had been hell, and your night was going to be, too.

After ignoring your calls for an hour, your best friends had texted you back telling you they were too busy to take your calls. They would have known, of course, what you’d talk about and prioritized their personal businesses above it.

You weren’t bitter about it, or anything…

Okay, you were. You were really really bitter.

Because Munchkin was at a party, trying to rope in some guy she’d had her sights on for a while. Needless to say, she was gonna be busy for the night. And Namjoon was working on some project for extra credits for his class tomorrow.

Your relationship being at the verge of splintering was, apparently, less important than a coveted hookup and extra fucking credits.

Your mother had sent you her customary checking in texts asking about your well being, and you'd made a whole hypothetical situation to ask her if temporary amnesia could be cured with some brain exercise.

Did you drink too much at that party you were going to? Are you okay?

You huffed a breath out, irritated but at the same time feeling really loved at your mother's accurate deduction of the situation. You texted her you were okay, she asked about Taehyung's well being, you said he was okay, too, and at the end she suggested you see a doctor if this felt too uneasy.

You thought about it for a while, but then realised a doctor wouldn't take you seriously. 

yeah right, mom! if docs started treating everyone with temporary amnesia on campus, he'd be dealing with nearly the entire student population

The conversation with your mother certainly failed to help in any way. You had no solution at your hands and your mind wasn't taken off it, too.

You stress-ate a pint of choco-chip icecream for dinner and watched reruns of Victorious on your laptop. You cried when Beck and Jade broke up. And then you slept with your laptop still running the show in the background.

You had a fitful night’s sleep, riddled with horrible nightmares switching between you begging Taehyung to tell you what you’d forgotten but him just crying because he was so hurt that you forgot in the first place, and Taehyung never wanting to talk to you again because he thought you were lying about forgetting your special night.

You finally sat up in your bed at close to six am. Having had enough with the mess in your head, you decided to beg your best friends to help you out, one more time.

Seventeen minutes past six of the morning saw you on a conference call with Namjoon and Munchkin.

“I went to bed at four, bitch, have some mercy—”

“And I didn’t sleep at all, I’ve been working on the project the whole night, and—”

“Guys!” you wailed. “Please help me out here! I am at my wit’s end, I can’t eat, can’t sleep, and I don’t know who else to talk to! I swear if I did, I would not be bothering you two like this!” You exhaled when they’d both quieted down. “Not that you’ve been much help, so far,” you added under your breath.

“I did not sign up for being insulted first thing in the morning!” Munchkin protested. “And Joon, what the hell is up with all your late night working sessions, lately? Don’t you get enough time during the day?”

The comment had you momentarily distracted from your own issue as you furrowed your brows. “Good point. He’s been spending more odd hours than usual at the library, too,” you said, recalling how Jackson had told you about Namjoon’s frequent nightly visits to the library.

“What? I—I do work during the day, guys,” Namjoon jumped to his defense, “but… the work’s a lot, okay? Also, almost the entirety of my Sunday went into comforting Angel. Being an economics major just eats up your time, okay? And—and I really need a couple extra credits—”

“Stop, you’re rambling,” Munchkin interrupted, sounding bored.

“And obviously lying,” you added with a shrug, even though they couldn’t see it.

“What? What? I’m not—”

“Honestly, Joon, nobody has time for your theatrics, okay? If you’re sneaking around with a girl—although I’m willing to bet my nail extensions you’re not—it’s cool. Do whatever,” Munchkin sounded half asleep, but what she said rang true with you, too.

“Absolutely. We won’t pry, and won’t judge.”

“It’s not a girl, guys, come on—”

“Already bet on it.”

“You mean it is something, then?” You squinted.

“Wait, how did this conversation go from Angel’s crisis call to a semi-intervention on me?” Namjoon protested, bringing you back to the ground.

You groaned. “Oh, yes. No, sorry, we don’t have time for diversions, right now. Help me resolve my crisis first.”

Munchkin clicked her tongue. “I still really fail to see what the big deal is? So drinking gave you amnesia like a total weirdo. Yeah, okay, it kinda sucks, but it’s not the end of the world! You two love each other! Move past this! Make new freaking memories, and get over it!”

You bit down on your lip. “I… I would have done that, eventually, but… you guys don’t know what happened last night.”

“Yeah, we do. Sort of. You left thirty seven messages in the groupchat, so we get the gist,” Namjoon reminded you.

“Okay, so you do know. So. Guys, it’s become a big deal because Taehyung has made it into one. His behaviour last night…” and you launched into a retelling of your whole encounter with Taehyung at his dorm.

For the better part of an hour, your dear best friends listened to you go on about how Taehyung seemed heartbroken because of your missing memory, and how you felt he didn’t even fully believe you when you said you didn’t remember anything. You also brought up, time and again, how this one incident was gonna end your relationship. 

“Okay, okay, hold on!” Namjoon finally interrupted your rampage. “This is all rubbish!”

You stuck your bottom lip out, turning to your side in your bed. Wendy had been out the entire night, last night. You wondered what she was up to because she wasn't the type to sleep around or go to parties. Maybe she had a sleepover with some of her girlfriends. You honestly couldn’t strain your mind over this on top of everything else, so you shut your eyes. 

“Firstly, Taehyung isn’t gonna break up with you because he suspects you’re lying about the memory loss. That’s just stupid and unlike him, and I’ve known him longer than you,” Namjoon continued. “Also, I still think the key to this whole issue is communicating. You need to open your mouth and ask the guy what happened last night. Don’t be demotivated by his saddened face, push through.”

“But… you know, Jungkook said to me that sometimes saying the wrong words can be worse than keeping mum. And I literally said the absolutely worst combination of words I could to Tae, last night! Almost made him think I was trying to break up with him. How shitty—”

“I bet he’s not even thinking about it right now. I bet my hair extensions on it,” Munchkin interrupted with a snort. “He’s probably sleeping off another hangover. Boys always end up drowning the conflicts in their lives in alcohol.”

You rolled your eyes. “As opposed to what you do? And stop betting your extensions on things.”

“But, she’s kinda not wrong, Angel,” Namjoon intervened, “you’re definitely overreacting a bit. Jungkook has hardly ever known what he’s talking about, all through his life. You’re letting his words affect you? All you can do, right now, is have a decent conversation with Tae where you hold his hand, look into his eyes and ask him to tell you what exactly happened last night.” He paused. “The night before, now, I guess, ’cause it’s morning…”

You sighed, opening your eyes to blink at Wendy’s empty bed. “I don’t know, guys… He looks so freaking shattered and disappointed every time I try to talk to him, it just feels like a slap to the face.”

“Ugh, stop thinking so much about everything,” Munchkin groaned. “And if talking to him seems like such a humongous challenge, then talk to someone you know he would have confided in.”

You sat up at that, eyes open wide. “Jin! Jin oppa! Tae shares everything with him, and he even went straight to his place after I left his dorm, too! He would know everything.”

“Now, now,” Namjoon began with a nervous lilt, “I don’t think it’s such a great idea to ask around when you could ask—”

“Shut up, Namjoon, it’s a fantastic fucking idea,” Munchkin cut him off.

“Yes. Yes, it’s a fantastic idea!” you exclaimed, checking the time. “It’s past eight, he would’ve left for the restaurant. I can make it after my Scriptwriting class and catch him during his lunch hour! Thank you, guys, thank you, so much!”

“Great to be of service. Now let me go back to sleep, I’m skipping all my classes today,” Munchkin muttered into the phone.

“For the record, I still don’t think it’s such a great idea—”

“Nobody cares, Namjoon, go back to sleep. You have a boring-as-fuck class in less than two hours.” With that, Munchkin disconnected your three-way call.

You tossed your phone to the side and laid back on your bed. This could actually work out. You could ask Jin to fill you in on what’s been going on in Taehyung’s head, and then go talk to your boyfriend with full preparation.

Noon couldn’t come sooner.

Jin’s face was pretty expressionless when he got into his usual lunch booth and met your eyes instead of his girlfriend’s. He didn’t look surprised, at all. He literally didn’t even blink, just gave you a once over and reached for his bag to fetch his lunch out. That should have been your warning sign, but blinded by your own selfish goal, you missed it.

“Oppa, hello,” you respectfully greeted him, wringing your hands in your lap. “I hope you don't mind me dropping by unannounced, but I wasn’t sure you’d be welcoming if I told you beforehand. You know why.” You looked down at the table, at Jin’s lunch of some salad and a smoothie. “I—I think you do, at least.”

You waited for Jin to say something, but he simply kept chewing. His eyes looked at you so blankly, he almost seemed to be looking through you. This was nothing like the Jin you knew. Either he was in a really disturbed state of mind, or he was really mad at you for what happened between you and Taehyung. 

You suspected it was the latter.

“Um,” you couldn’t find the right words to say. “I—I tried talking to Tae about this, but he gets really upset and unbelieving and I… I lose courage.” You swallowed. You were losing courage now, too. “So—so, oppa, did he… Taehyung, he… what did he say about last night?” You bit your tongue. “I mean the night before. Hobi—Hobi oppa’s party’s night.” You focussed your gaze at your sweaty hands resting in your lap. “I drank God knows what combination of alcohol, and…and can’t seem to recall the events that followed us leaving the party. Taehyung is really worked up about it all, so…” You looked up to meet Jin’s flat stare. “Will you tell me what happened that night? What—what Taehyung’s been so worried about?”

Jin sipped at his smoothie, smacked his lips, and had just opened his mouth to say something, when a familiar voice rained down on the two of you from the side. “Well, this is fabulous!” 

You jumped, snapping your head to the side to see Jin’s girlfriend standing close to your booth in her waitress outfit, lunchbox in hand and rage on her face.

“So, now you have engagements during lunch, too. Great. Just great.”

“Unnie, I…” You trailed off as the woman silenced you with a sharp glare. Tossing another one at her boyfriend, she twisted on her heels and left the break room. “I… what did I do wrong? She—she did recognize me, right?” you nervously asked the stoic wall sitting before you.

“Taehyung is upset because you’ve been hiding behind the excuse of this fictitious memory loss—that doesn’t happen in real life, mind you—to get out of the promise you made to him while drunk,” Jin told you in a slightly high pitched, obviously enraged, and nearly unrecognisable voce. 

You gaped at him. “I really do not remember, oppa! Why would I want to forget about my first…” You slowly came to a halt as it hit you. “Wait, what did you say? The promise I made to him? What promise?” you rasped, bewildered.

Jin scowled at you. "What first time were you going to speak of? I don’t know about the intimate details of your relationship, and I don't want to, because that isn’t material here.” You ducked your head as your cheeks pinked. “You two drunkards were getting all emotional about loving each other a lot and wanting to stay together forever, so Tae proposed the idea of sealing it with a ring.”

You gasped. “I—a promise ring?”

“Mm hmm,” Jin hummed with pursed lips. “And then, when you got sober and realised you shouldn't have made that commitment in a haste, you ran out on him, instead of telling him straight up. And since then you’ve been confusing him with mixed clues instead of properly talking to him about what you want.” Jin’s jaw was set. “Why can’t you just have a proper talk, huh? Why do you women have to be so mysterious and expectant about things? Use your freaking words, for one damn time in your life! Men can’t get into your head to guess shit! Say it, and maybe we’ll be able to resolve it! Use words to describe what you actually want, and maybe I'd be able to get it done!”

Jin was breathing hard, his eyes were blown wide and a few veins in his forehead looked close to popping. You swallowed, feeling nervous, confused, dumbstruck and a tad bit scared for your life, at the same time. “Uh… you?”

Jin blinked, and the hazy, mad look lifted from his gaze. His lips parted and he sighed very noisily. “No, not I. It’s just… I started to project my personal issues onto you. Sorry about that, kid.” He forwarded a hand to pat your shoulder in apology. “You got what you came here for, though, right?”

“I… yeah, I guess. Although…” I cannot believe that that is what I forgot. No wonder Taehyung looked so downtrodden.

Gosh, you were a fool!

“Thank you so much, oppa!” you announced to Jin, getting up with a new spring to your steps. “I’ll get going, now.”

You bounded out of the restaurant. You literally could not believe what you’d just learned. Smacking a palm against your face, you shook your head at yourself. 

You concentrated, again, this time to recall conversations from last night instead of actions. And surprisingly enough, some of the fog cleared away as you started recalling things…

…you are beyond toasted in this shimmery polyester top and leather shorts you’d worn as your costume. The minute you step into Taehyung’s room, you are scrambling to get out of them.

Your boyfriend chuckles as he locks the door after himself. “You’re more than welcome to take it off, and more, babe.”

Your mind has gotten kind of hazier than you’re used to. But knowing how Tae always makes fun of you for being a lightweight — which you’re really really not, Tae just holds his liquor better than you do — you avoid bringing up your state of mind. You laugh at his teasing remark.

Within seconds, you have thrown off your top and shorts, and are snuggled between Taehyung’s covers. He himself has stripped down to his boxers. You give a lazy smile as your eyes rove his torso. “What happened to wearing pajamas when we cuddled?” you tease, sleepily.

Taehyung gets in bed next to you, rolling over to pull you to his chest. He smirks down at you, complete with his vampire makeup. “Too balmy tonight. And too tired to find pajamas.”

You giggle, burrowing yourself into the warm, soft skin of his chest. You poke a finger into his pectoral muscle.

“Ow!” he yelps.

“You’re muscly, babe. Those oversized clothes hide you well,” you observe, licking your lips as your hands smooth over his chest and stomach.

“And you’re sexy,” he responds in a rasp, eyes stuck on the cleavage exposed by your bra. “Do you usually sleep with this on?” he asks, snapping the strap against your shoulder.

You wince, shaking your head. “It’s too hot to wear a shirt, so…”

Taehyung pulls you in closer, staring deep into your eyes. “Do you trust me?”

Despite all the ridiculous makeup, your heart skips a beat at his intense stare. You nod.

His hands slide behind you to unhook your bra. You gasp when the clasp is released. “Relax, baby. It’s just me,” Taehyung whispers to you in a soothing voice. “I won’t even look if you ask me to. You know that, right?”

You do. But you also do. Want him to look, and more. As the garment is pulled away from your body, slowly, Taehyung’s eyes remain stuck to yours. Your own water at the love, admiration and respect you feel for him in the moment. Actually, not just in the moment. Always.

A sob escapes your lips. You rush to wrap yourself in his arms, again. “Baby?” he sounds worried. “What—what happened, sweetheart?”

“I just love you a lot, Tae,” you speak into his skin in a nasally, snot-filled voice. “A lot. You’re my most precious gemstone in the whole world. Never leave me, baby. Never ever.”

Taehyung presses a multitude of kisses to the crown of your head, and you feel wetness seep into your shoulder when he nuzzles your nape. “I love you too, my babylove. And I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”

“Promise?” you mumble. “This is forever?”

You feel him nod against you. “Forever, baby. I promise.” He pulls away from you, eyes still on your face as he wipes away your tears and the obviously ruined makeup if his own is anything to go by. “Do you want to seal it? With a promise ring?”

You gasp. This is the stuff from teenage romance novels that you’ve always dreamed of. “I… Yes! Yes, Tae, oh my God, yes, yes, please yes!” you happily chant, grabbing both his hands and wringing them around as you roll in the bed.

Taehyung chuckles, calming you down by pulling you in for a kiss. The familiar heavenly feel of his pillowy lips has you quieting down and kissing him back. His palm slowly travels up the curve of your waist to curl around the side of your breast. Your breath hitches.

Taehyung brushes his tongue against your lower lip, and pulls back. “Is this okay?” he asks, giving a slight squeeze.

You almost squeak at the sensation, rapidly nodding your head like a dummy. Smiling, he captures your lips again and massages his palm over the peak of your breast, squeezing when you moan into his mouth. You lose yourself in his taste and touch.

His lips travel lower to your jaw, peppering kisses on their way. You release a sigh of bliss, hands carding through his hair. His teeth scrape over your collarbone, quickly latching onto the skin of your neck. You cannot hold back the whine that leaves you, sensations travelling down to the bottom of your stomach.

“Mine,” he breathes into your skin, sponging kisses over the bite he has just left. “Only mine.”

“Only yours, baby,” you breathe out, rolling on your back as he presses his face against your sternum.

“You’ve made me the happiest man, bub,” he breathes onto your chest, a finger drawing patterns around your navel as he cuddles into you. “I’ll get you that ring and prove myself to be the best boyfriend, in the world. I’ll love you more than you ever thought was possible.”

Tears trickle down your eyes at his words. “And I’m gonna be the best girlfriend in the world to you, baby. You’re my dream come true. My real life prince charming.”

He doesn't say anything for a while, just hugs you tighter. His lips feathers soft kisses to the tops of your breasts, and a hand plays with imaginary patterns on your stomach. And then you feel his head getting heavier. You want to ask him if he’s sleepy, but you cannot even open your eyes with how heavy they’ve gotten. You breathe out as he holds you closer, and slowly drift into sleep...

Your eyes watered as the scenes played out in your head, everything you’d been unable to recall gradually coming back. You realised you’d been going about it the wrong way, trying to recall your passionate moments, when it had all been an extremely emotional affair.

You bit your lip as you called Taheyung’s cellphone. You were gonna beg for his forgiveness and then kiss him silly. You loved this boy so much, oh God.

The phone was picked up after three rings. “Hi, kiddo!”

You blinked at the unexpected voice and greeting, but then recognised it to be Hobi’s. Oh how you wished you could yell at the guy for making your life miserable by mixing drinks at his damn party. You exhaled, though, and tried to clear your head. “Hobi oppa, hey. Where’s Tae?”

“At the Kappa rehearsal hall with me!” Hobi cheerfully told you. “We’re doing a k-pop routine today. You know how he gets with those, right? He’s been practising this one move that he can’t get right for so long, ugh. Do you need a message conveyed?”

You frowned to yourself. It had been a while since Taehyung visited the rehearsal halls. Was he trying to distract himself from the disaster you’d brewed up for him? Very likely. “No, no, I’m gonna…” You stopped yourself. Maybe an element of surprise would work better. “I’ll call later, when he’s done,” you said, instead, already mapping a way down to the university campus and the rehearsal hall as you hailed a cab.

You received Hobi’s text on your way, stating that they were all leaving for the ice cream parlor opposite the building and that you may contact Taehyung now if you wanted to. You were kind of grateful they’d all left the rehearsal hall. You weren’t sure how you’d call Taehyung aside in an echoing hall with mirrors and Hobi’s dance team. And what would you do if he refused you? You weren’t prepared for that kind of humiliation. An ice cream shop, you could do.

On reaching your destination, you exited the cab, determined. You looked up at the striking capital K embossed in gold atop the Kappa rehearsal hall. Then you turned to look across the street and spotted a quaint, cosy looking ice cream parlour painted in beautiful pastels. You crossed the road with hurried steps.

You took a deep breath in. You were gonna apologise your butt off, and then kiss him in the middle of this very place if you had to. God, you felt so guilty! You were gonna make this right.

As you pushed the door open, the entry bell tolled, alerting the girl behind the cash counter of your presence. As she flashed you a bright smile, you realised she looked familiar. She had a really kind face. Maybe you’d seen her around the campus, maybe she was one of Wendy’s friends. 

You stepped in and returned her greeting with a small smile of your own. Then you looked around to spot Taehyung and Hobi’s group. Hobi caught your eye first, standing out with his fiery red hair.

You walked over. “Hey… everyone,” you greeted the table, awaiting Hobi’s reaction and hoping he’d be kinder than Jin. Although half of Jin’s ire seemed to have come from his personal troubles which you really had known nothing about beforehand. You smiled when Hobi’s surprised eyes met yours. “Hi.”

“Oh! Hey, kid!” Hobi greeted you with a huge grin, easing your worries. “You, uh, you came here, whoa!”

You gave a bashful shrug, awkward because you didn’t recognise anyone other than Hobi on the table.

And then you did a double take at the table. You didn’t recognise anyone, indeed! Where was Taehyung?

Hobi noticed your searching eyes. “Oh, Tae went back to the hall, he’d left his phone. He’ll be back in five.”

You exhaled. That wouldn’t do. “I’ll catch him back there, no problem.”

Hobi shrugged his shoulders, without question. “He’d be in hall G.”

Nodding him a quick thanks, you took off, leaving the ice cream shop, and crossed the road back to the rehearsal hall. As you stepped foot onto the linoleum floor of your university's most coveted rehearsal hall, you realized you’d never been here before. Past the revolving gates, you encountered a small reception area where you had to show your college ID to get yourself checked in.

When the man passed your ID back to you over the counter, you made your way down the corridor which was lined by various gates that were numbered alphabetically. These were probably the individual halls. The corridor, you noticed, ran quite long. God, how huge was this place?

On reaching the door marked with a G, you stopped. The door wasn’t fully shut like all the others you’d walked past, right now.

You gave it a slight push, peeking in. Taehyung’s shapely butt greeted you as the guy leant over on the floor, rummaging around for something. Probably his phone. You gaped at the sight for a few extended seconds, before realising how you were being a creep.

You cleared your throat and gave the door a firmer push, opening it wide enough for you to step through. Taehyung’s wide eyes met yours in the mirrored wall he was sat before. You sucked in a sharp breath as his attractiveness smacked you in the face, yet again. Dressed in plain black joggers and a loose fitted t-shirt, he should have had nothing on your white colored high waisted shorts and pale blue button up, and yet he looked like a freaking Greek God, while you...well. You really just looked like a potato trying to play dress-up in front of this guy, swear to God.

He straightened up, running a hand through his dark hair, his eyes following your movements through the mirror as you stepped in. His gaze seemed apprehensive and he really didn’t seem to be in the mood to speak, anytime soon. “Hi,” you whispered through a scratchy throat.

Taehyung’s eyes travelled down your body, making you blush from the inside out as they lingered on your legs. “Hey,” he finally said, audibly exhaling as he sat down, this time, to rummage through some towels and water bottles lying on the floor next to the wall length mirror. “You done with your breather, overnight, then? Can you give me a ring? I can’t find my phone.”

You bit your lip at his caustic tone and taunt. And also at the lack of an address. No babe, no angel? You’d really hurt him. “Uh, yeah, sure,” you quickly said, holding back the flood that was filling up your heart as you fished your phone out from your pocket.

The buzz of a cellphone’s vibration filled up around you. Taehyung bounced back to his feet, attentively kicking off a soaked towel, and there, on the floor, you saw his phone. You disconnected the call as he picked the device up. “Thank you,” he mumbled, breaking your heart with the formality and the repetitive lack of address.

He walked up to you on careful steps, eyes scanning your face as if accessing something. You breathed in. “Tae, can we talk?”

His eyebrows did a thing where one of them rose and the other lowered, very slightly. You nearly creamed your panties. “Depends,” he gruffly said, looking away to inspect his phone. “Are you gonna run off in the middle of it, again?”

You winced, ducking your head in shame. “No. No, absolutely not. Never again, I promise,” you mumbled. You looked up and caught a brief glimpse of his shattered expressions before he pulled on his mask of indifference mingled with slight bother. You felt like shit. “I’m so so so sorry, baby,” you said without any ado. “I acted like a complete idiot and—and really hurt you.”

Taehyug’s whole body seemed to deflate. With his lips pursed and eyes shut, he shook his head. “That you did, babe. That you did.”

You clamped your lower lip between your teeth. “Forgive me? Please?” you breathed out in a really desperate voice, ready to beg on your knees if you had to.

Taehyung opened his eyes with a tired sounding, noisy exhale. “It’s… well, of course, I’ll forgive you, Angel. You’re the love of my life,” he said with a small smile while his eyes still emanated immense sadness. He looked so heartbroken and lost that you just wanted to give him a tight hug. “But, baby. Why? Why did you go through all this trouble of faking memory loss? You ran out on me twice within twelve hours, you know. It hurt like a bitch that you couldn’t just talk to me about wanting to back out. I would’ve understood, baby. You were drunk and emotional, and I—”

You gasped when it hit you. Faking memory loss? Wanting to back out? Oh no. “Tae!” you interrupted him, stepping forth to put both your palms against his chest, resisting the urge to splay them and push them into his toned flesh. “You’ve still got it wrong. I didn’t fake any memory loss, baby. I genuinely did not remember. I promise. I didn’t lie.”

Taehyung frowned, looking confused. “What? But…why did you leave like that in the morning, then?” he asked in a soft voice, looking vulnerable as his hands came up to loop around your wrists.

Your skin as well as your heart warmed at his familiar touch, and this time you did splay your fingers out a bit on his pectorals. “I…” You felt your cheeks and ears heating up when you realized you’d have to actually tell him what you’d assumed you’d forgotten. “Um, Tae, we—uh, we were nearly naked when we woke up, you remember?”

Despite the situation, a corner of his lips ticked up and his hands left your wrists to wrap around your waist. “Uh huh, vividly. What of it?”

You felt the heat climb down your ears, to your neck. You looked down at his beautiful collarbones to avoid the intensity his eyes suddenly shone with. “Well, it — it made me think that maybe, you know… stuff might have happened between us. Um, you know…?”

When you felt his hold slacken, you looked up to find Taehyung gaping at you with his jaw dropped really far down and eyes as round as golf balls. “You thought we had sex?” he squeaked, face contorting in horror. “No…you thought you forgot that we had sex,” he corrected himself, horror growing on his face as you pursed your lips in silent acquiescence.

“I felt horribly embarrassed,” you quietly confessed, making his grip on you tighten again. “Our first sexual encounter was — well, is going to be something I remember and cherish for the rest of my life. I hated myself for blanking out on it.”

“But you could’ve asked me!” he desperately said, shaking his head as if in disbelief.

“Yeah, about that.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I kinda did, but somebody just gave me suggestive glances and confuddling freaking words that concreted my doubt of us having had sex!”

Taehyung grimaced. “Yeah, I was tryna tease, but it came back to bite me in the butt.”

You rolled your eyes with a small chuckle, sliding your palms past his shoulders to grip his neck.

“As it stands, I’m sorry, too.” He looked at you with parted lips and big, innocent eyes. “I shouldn’t have doubted you like that.”

You looked in his now regretful eyes with love bubbling in your chest. “How could you ever think I would wanna back out, baby?” you whispered, leaning in close enough to taste his favorite strawberry milkshake on his breath. “You really are my most precious gemstone in the whole world, Tae,” you relayed your words from that night, making his eyes widen. “My dream come true. My real life prince charm—”

With a growl Taehyung captured your lips in his. You melted in his embrace, nails digging into the back of his neck as you drank your fill of him. Your lips moved in sync, the most natural rhythm in the world to you. You had missed this, missed him so much, in just a day. You really couldn’t live without this boy. He was your whole world.

His tongue swiped past the seams of your lips to delve deeper, and you allowed him entry with a deep moan, going lax in his arms as he plundered your mouth. You felt him move you around, and then a cold surface was pressing into your back. Taehyung sidled up to you, his planes molding smoothly into your curves. You sighed into his mouth, tasting him to the fullest as you ran your own tongue over the ridge of his upper teeth. His chest vibrated with a groan, making you shiver.

You closed your teeth around his lower lip and sucked, making him gasp and push against you harder. His own teeth scraped against your upper lip. Goosebumps spread all over your body.

His arms left your waist to pull at your own, slowly travelling down your shoulders, to encircle your wrists and pin them next to your head. He pulled away with a heaving chest, and you gasped in a large breath. Your eyes fluttered open.

He looked good enough to eat with his eyes shuttered, dark hair brushing his miles long lashes, and lips cherry red with your kisses. “I love you so so much, my babylove,” he whispered, strawberry scented breath washing over your face.

You inhaled his essence. Your eyes watered at the love reflected in his own. “I love you, too, Tae. I love you forever.”

Pinned between him and, you could now tell, the mirror, your heartbeat quickened when he licked his lips. Without another word, he leant down to sponge open mouthed kisses down your neck.

“Tae,” you breathed out, “we’re in...publi—ah!” you broke on a gasp when he licked a strip up to your jaw.

Your eyelashes fluttered as he came back up to look into your eyes with his own darkened in lust. “You didn’t cover the marks, did you?”

Your breathing almost stopped at his deep octave. Nearly trembling in his grasp, you shook your head. “I w—w—wore a shirt to… hide ’em,” you managed to breath out, going insane under his heated stare.

He let go of your arms to unbutton the collar of your shirt. You looped your fingers through the waistband of his joggers, chewing on your lower lip when he undid another button. And another. And then another. “You look really fucking sexy today, by the way,” he grumbled into your neck, leaning in to lave his tongue over the deep purple marks he’d left there. “Love the shorts.”

You bit back a whimper when his teeth scraped against the flesh just beneath your collarbone. 

“I happen to remember another mark,” he spoke into your skin, nose dragging down your sternum and sinking into your cleavage. One of his fingers came up to drag against the top seam of your bra. In a swift motion, he scooped the cup down to free your right boob. One of his fingers came up to encircle your nipple, making it peak immediately. Humming in satisfaction, he moved the shapely digit up to rub against the mark you remembered he’d left there. “Would you look at that.” His voice was now a growl, hot breath warming the skin of your breast as he spoke. “My baby looks so pretty.”

That was your last warning before Taehyung was engulfing your peak into his mouth. You stopped breathing. Frozen in place, your thighs tingling at the sensation and your core clenching in anticipation, a breathless heave left you when his tongue flicked against the pebbled nipple. You desperately clutched onto him for dear life, one hand grabbing hold of his shirt at the waist and the other coming up to grip a tuft of his hair. “Tae...hyung,” you whined, eyes screwed shut as he sucked hard.

He let go of your boob with a pop, only to tease his mark with kitten licks. You were gonna die. 

One of his hands glided over one of your thighs, hooking under your knee to lift your leg up and slot himself further into you. Your eyes flew open when you felt the stiffness between his legs. He felt hard. And he felt huge. Gulping, you tugged at his hair to pull him away. He separated from you with dazed eyes, blinking rapidly as if to focus on your face as he breathed through his wet, rosy, parted lips.

Sexy fucking beast.

As you looked into his crazed eyes, he pressed harder against you, pushing his length against the crotch of your shorts. You whimpered, your fists tightening on him when the zipper of your shorts bumped into your clit. Taehyung’s eyes lit up with interest. He repeated the motion. You threw your head back, giving up when he picked up pace, rubbing against you with his own breathing laboured.

Sweat beaded your forehead, and his hand came up to support the back of your neck, palm of the other still holding up your leg to provide him with the required leverage. You let out a guttural moan when he leant in to lick at your nipple with the flat of his tongue. “Tae…” you sighed, attempting to collect some semblance of your sanity, but failing.

Taehyung sped up, almost rutting against you, and you rolled your hips against his to match the pace. His mouth latched onto your neck, shooting off sparks down to your core and fueling the fire bubbling in the pit of your stomach. You were about to combust. “My baby,” he grumbled into your ear, scraping his teeth against the flesh behind it. Your entire body shuddered. “Only mine,” he growled again.

You nodded blindly, gasping when he bit down on your flesh. His hand suddenly left your neck to brush down your front, tweaking your nipple, and settled onto the waistband of your shorts. His eyes met yours through the haze of lust you two were choking on, and you gave him a nod of consent. He deftly unbuttoned the garment, hips not ceasing for a moment as his fingers glided down your abdomen. 

The first contact his fingers made with your clit was explosive. Your back arched off the wall, mouth falling open on a silent scream. He nudged against your bundle of nerves twice, before moving down your wetness to sink two of his gorgeously slender fingers into you. You had been flooding your panties since the moment your eyes met. Both his fingers slid right in. His hips stuttered to a halt, lips falling open on a gasp. Your hand left his head to clutch at his shoulder, pulling him in further when he let go of your knee.

“You are soaking, baby,” he breathed, awe and surprise spilling off his throaty timbre. His fingers curved in you, rubbing against that spot inside of you that had taken you months to locate properly. He did it in under five seconds, and now he was playing you like a violin. You were gonna die!!! Your eyes fell shut again. His fingers were merciless, massaging your insides and pushing against your warmth. “Yes, you like that? Do you like that baby, hm?”

You managed a broken nod, gasps layering on one on top of the other. “T—Tae…Tae…”

“Come on, my love. Let go,” he whispered, swiping his tongue over your trembling lips before latching onto them.

A stroke of thumb against your clit, and you fell apart with a vibrating groan into his mouth. The knot tightening in your stomach suddenly expanded into a tsunami of sensations that travelled down to every single nerve ending in your body. Your walls clenched around his fingers as waves over waves of blinding, white pleasure crashed into you. Your legs jittered beneath you, spasming beyond your control.

It took you longer than a few seconds to come back to the land of living. You were not used to this.

You opened your eyes excruciatingly slow, as if waking up from unconsciousness. But when you did, Taehyung had already extracted his hand back from you, righted your bra, buttoned up both of your garments, and was now licking your wetness off his fingers with his eyes shut. The sight made you thump back against the wall, jolting his hand that was holding onto your waist and making him open his eyes in surprise.

You looked at him from under your lashes, your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “What…” you panted, “the hell…”

Taehyung had a starved look in his eyes when he met yours that, despite just having had the best orgasm of your entire life, made you wanna throw him on his back and ride him to the high heavens. “I take it you liked that,” he murmured, cradling your waist in his arms.

“Liked it? Are you insane?” you scoffed. “Taehyung, I…” you heaved a breath out, picking up your leaden arms to rest against his shoulders. “I couldn’t breathe. It was unlike anything I’ve ever felt,” you whispered, feeling vulnerable and at the same time protected.

Taehyung, contrary to your expectations, gave you a sincere smile instead of the smirk you’d envisioned. “Makes me the happiest man. I love you so much, you know?”

You giggled, pulling your lips in. “I love you, too, you insanely insanely sexy man,” you teased, making him scrunch up his nose in embarrassment. Something poked your thigh when you shuffled closer to him, and you gasped. “Babe, what about you… your… um.” Your wide eyes pointed down at his nearly fully erect member. 

Taehyung gave a laugh. “Well, we can always go back to the dorms and take care of it together,” he suggested, making your cheeks flame up and your battered pussy reignite in excitement. “I was dry humping you like a thirteen-year-old. Couldn’t let our first sexual encounter be about that.”

“You were lucid enough to think about all that?” you asked him, genuinely curious.

“No, that was a lie.” Taehyung gave you a bashful shake of head. “I was a goner, babe. I just…” His tongue came out to lick at his lower lip. “I just had this sudden urge to feel you. Couldn’t control it.”

You shakily exhaled. “Your fingers are amazing. No, you are amazing,” you mumbled, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. You suddenly pulled back with your eyes wide. You looked around the hall, frenetically. “Wait, this place doesn’t have cameras, does it?”

Taehyung laughed with his lips pursed. “Of course not, darling. Who do you think I am?”

“A really sexy guy who missed his girlfriend?” you teased again, and this time, he kissed you in retaliation.

Pulling away, he looked at you with stars in his eyes. “Wait,” he mumbled, reaching into his pocket for something.

You had a guess what it could be. 

Pulling out a plastic case that obviously housed a ring, Taehyung sucked in his lower lip as he looked at you. Pinning you against the mirror, he popped the box open between your faces. Your eyes left his to look at the ring — a simple, silver band with a dainty knot embossed on it. Your eyes watered.

“It’s beautiful,” you mumbled through a clogged throat.

“My angel, my other half, the love of my life,” Taehyung whispered, paying no heed to the tear that travelled down his cheek, “do you promise to be mine forever?”

You sobbed. Clamping a hand over your mouth, you nodded, frantically. “Yes. Yes, I promise. I promise to be yours forever.”

He plucked the ring out of the box and slid it on your finger. Sobs wracked the two of you as you hopped into his arms, tucking your legs around his waist when he lifted you off the floor. “I love you so much, oh baby,” he sobbed into your neck.

“I love you, too, my love, I love you, too.”

Fifteen minutes later, after crying for a while, admiring how cute the ring looked on your hand, ensuring that Taehyung wasn’t even the slightest bit hard, and nearly leaving his phone behind again, the two of you exited rehearsal hall with your entwined hands swinging between you. 

“So,” Taehyung suddenly commented, a sly smirk on his face. “Bet you can’t get amnesia about coming for me in Hobi hyung’s rehearsal hall, huh? Even if you tried? Mission accomplished!” 

You gasped, raining down smacks on him right there, on the side of the road. He was gonna tease you about your wrong interpretation of that night, forever, it seemed.

“Hey, I was kidding!” Taehyung exclaimed, sheltering himself with his arms. “Let’s go ask hyung what he mixed with the vodka that gave you amnesia in the first place!” 

You stopped with your attack. That seemed like a great idea. You were dying to ask the man that, yourself. “Let’s.”

As you two walked back to the ice cream shop, your ring glinted, reflecting sunlight. You looked at Taehyung who was grinning to himself. 

You were the happiest, today, that you had ever been in your life.

note: angst by the virtue of miscommunication is my fav sort of angst to write. in the original draft, this story was to end when OC got back to Tae's dorm to sort things out, but then my mind said naAAHHH. mORE ANGST!!! lmao, anyways. thank you for reading! jin's story should be up next, if all goes according to plan. wait around~ 😘💕

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