#how you hate korean people but want one particular korean dick?

[vvh0adie]

taesang really said the korean version of "black queens forever, snowbunnies never" to maeda

and that's pissing her off so bad

love that for him

and i love to see her seethe

[moonctzeny]

Promotion

This is technically a part 2 of my fic Work for it but it can be enjoyed on its own!

pairing: supervisor !johnny x intern ! female reader x assistant !haechan

genre: smutty goodness (this will send me to hell vip)

word count: almost 14k

summary: “After you fuck the Sales’ department supervisor, Johnny Suh in your office during an overtime, you’re left to deal with the unavoidable lingering emotions that come with getting his dick on the regular. At the same time, his assistant and your best work buddy, Donghyuck, who initially helped you with getting with his boss, realises his growing crush on you that is too big to be ignored at this point. With their masterful skills in seduction, you’ve ended up tangled in a sexual game with the both of them, all the while trying to move up from an intern to a permanent worker in the company”

warnings: threesome w/ two doms, alcohol consumption, mention of food (meat, lettuce, eggs), oral, overstimulation, thigh job, at some point- reader borrows a shirt from haechan and it’s mentioned that it’s ‘too big on the shoulders’, thigh riding, office sex, pussy slapping, choking, fingering, sir kink thrown in there at some point, a little degradation bc this is my fic we’re talking about

a/n: omg it’s finally done! I really love this so I hope you guys like it as well :)

taglist:  @rainodanna​, @markresonates​, @unknown5tar​, @yoongsicles​

For every other worker in the office, virtually nothing had changed. 

They relive the same mundane routine, Monday after Monday, the same excruciating 8 hours and short cigarette breaks. The same trees, stuck in their ceramic imprisonment would greet them in the company’s entrance. Rigid and dusty and reeking of cheap plastic. It’s not like they’d come alive, open their little mouths on their thylakoid membranes and tell everyone you fucked mr. Suh, the Sales Department’s supervisor, in your office during your overtime. No, that’s not possible, you reminded yourself when you pass by them every morning, giving them a side eye for good measure, as if that would scare them off their zombie state.

And you were the same too, completing your tasks and meeting your deadlines. Blending in with the rest of the company’s human resource, with the exception of the occasional double take of some tactless male worker here and there.

Donghyuck, however, said supervisor’s assistant and your best friend, wasn’t your typical office worker. He noticed the extra layer of cherry lip gloss coating your lips. He noticed your new perfume, sweeter than the one you used to wear. He noticed the knowing smiles between you and his boss, the heat of your body when you were around him. And it wasn’t just because he was sharp overall.

He was the one who practically got you together, planted the seed in Johnny’s head about the cute new intern of the Financial Department. He was the one who convinced him to finally make a move on you, tired of seeing you trying over and over again to seduce the supervisor to your bed. 

And when that seed finally sprouted, in the form of Johnny spitting in your mouth and taking you on your office chair like you were his last fuck on earth (according to the hair-raising description you gave Donghyuck the morning after), he should’ve been happy, right? 

It didn’t really affect his life in the slightest.

You were just y/n. His friend, his work buddy. The person whom he was close enough to let you know you had a piece of lettuce stuck on your teeth from that sandwich you had on your break. The person who texted him funny gifs of pandas falling asleep during the most boring of meetings. With your nerdy glasses and that ugly brown suit you loved wearing so much. The person he dreamt of fucking every time he fell asleep.

When you told Donghyuck you had a crush on his boss he wasn’t shocked, but the stinging buzz in his guts surprised him. He would see you waltz right past his office all perked up and pretty, to see the person you really came for, nervous as you hung from every word that left Johnny’s mouth. He’d put up with the sound of you giggling over every stupid joke that left the older man’s mouth patiently, just to wait until he’d smell your sweet perfume as you’d walk past him again. To tease you over something that would make you mad enough to notice him, glare at him, maybe even hit him.

And Donghyuck wanted to hate Johnny, he really did. His stupid boss who asked for his coffee specifically made, who was rude and cranky on Monday mornings and got the credit for all his hard work, yet Johnny was nothing of the sort. He was helpful, and kind and let him off early. He was funny and good looking and taller than him and had a six pack, damn it. If Donghyuck was being honest, he didn’t just like his boss, he admired him. It was pathetic, he thought. Most days he’d live vicariously through him. 

Sometimes he would lay on his bed at night, picturing himself to be the second lead of a romance drama that would sweep you off your feet. Everyone gets second lead fever, right? In his rem cycles, he’s handsome and hilarious and much more interesting than the main actor. He would imagine himself stretching out his rays, like the full, rising sun that he was, until they overcame the big mountain that was Johnny and reached your skin. So hot against it that you’d have to undress, remove the clothes sticking on your sweaty skin to embrace him. 

He thought about your body a hundred times too many for it to be considered healthy. The curve of your ass in your pencil skirts, the little hairs on the nape of your neck that stuck out from your tight ponytails. The runs on your tights that he wished were caused by the sharpness of his fingernails. He listened to your voice carefully, all 90 Hz of it, and played it inside his head as if it was an instrument. Putting together chords and harmonies, composing a music piece of all the ways his name would sound like coming out of your lips.

Donghyuck, Donghyuck, Donghyuck

“Earth to Donghyuck? Are you listening to me?”

It was unlike him to be out of it, especially when he was around you. He blames it on skipping coffee this morning or the shade of red of your blouse that fits you so well. Either way, he had to respond, and keep the pink from flooding his cheeks further. There’s no way you could’ve known what was going on inside his head.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. So, let me get this straight. Weren’t you the one who didn’t want a relationship?”

You were upset, he could tell. After the night of the overtime, you and Johnny had indulged in a few more nights of each other’s presence, but had kept it at that. Sex. Delicious, mind blowing, porno worthy sex, but nothing more than that. And you were starting to itch for a little bit more.

Donghyuck was right, of course. You were the one who told Johnny that this wasn’t the right time in your life for any sort of commitment, especially with someone in the workplace. This was your internship, and you were determined to get a permanent position soon, that should be your first priority. Get the bag and go. There were men everywhere. But why was your heart aching for that particular one with the long hair and the caramel eyes and the flower tattoos? 

“I just don’t want people at work to gossip about us, you know how they get. But seeing him so nonchalant about it gets on my nerves.”

Leaving his apartment at 2 am when he was sprawled out on his bed, in just pyjama pants and the light layer of sweat from the athletic sex you just had, hurt enough. It was a sight so beautifully hidden under his work attire that it soon became addictive, the withdrawal symptoms too intense for you to have your dose only once a week. 

Donghyuck scowled when you first let out a frustrated sigh, your eyes pitifully following his boss’s silhouette around. He knew you’d never really complain about it, you were set on that promotion and you deserved it too, but it was hard not to get angry. Everything he ever wanted stood willing and ready for taking in front of Johnny’s lap, how could he not claim you?

He hated seeing you sad.

“Let’s go for a drink. I think you need it.”

Even he surprised himself with the sudden proposition, blinking back at you to gauge your reaction. You were best work buddies, sure, but you never hung out after office hours alone. It would make sense for you to refuse, Donghyuck told himself, trying to soften the blow of a potential rejection. You’re probably tired from working, or maybe you’d feel awkward to be alone with him for so long. Maybe you hated to drink, or maybe you hated him. Oh God, what if you hated him? What if you only spent time with him out of social obligat-

“Sure, sounds good. Pick me up after you’re done? Since you’re on the top floor.”

Donghyuck nodded back at you, too eagerly for his liking, the gears in his brain already trying to figure out where he should take you. You excused yourself back to your office, the small pat you gave his shoulder making him grin like an idiot.

This is not a date, he reminded himself. 

He had dreamt of this moment for months now. He thought about you every time he walked past that korean bbq place, promising himself that one day he’d muster the courage to finally ask you out. This wasn’t exactly the case today, but it was as close to his imagination as possible. This is not a date.

He repeated that phrase over and over again, let it resonate inside his head. This is not a date because he is a coward and you like someone else. Was he a bad person for taking you out today? Was he taking advantage of your slight disappointment? Was that why you ever said yes in the first place? The self deprecating thoughts lit a fire in his belly and he tried to extinguish it with every shot of clear liquid that disappeared from between his full lips. Like he expected, you weren’t far behind on the drinking either, enjoying the grilled pieces of meat blissfully, moaning in satisfaction with every delicious bite.

You looked pretty before, but now, through the pink coloured glasses of intoxication, you were stunning. There was a halo of bright light surrounding you, making you look so celestial chomping on that piece of lettuce. If it was anyone else, he would pull a face of repugnance at the sight, yet Dongyuck thought that you just looked so cute, so content in that little moment and he wished he could just lean in and leave a kiss over your filled cheeks.

No, that was a dangerous thought. This is not a date, pull it together.

Donghyuck desperately tried to focus his attention somewhere else, anywhere but you would suffice. His eyes finally landed on a bowl of marinated eggs on the table, and it reminded him of the three boiled eggs he makes for breakfast every morning. He was a man of habit, following the same routine until he’d see you and you’d colour between the lines of his life, making it interesting finally. Donghyuck would fill the pot with more water than needed, just enough so that it doesn’t overflow. He liked to be closer to you than he could handle, close enough but never touching you.

Lost in his daydream, he doesn’t realise that he hasn’t talked in minutes. And when you touch his hand lightly with yours to bring him out of it, he almost feels the boiling water burning his skin.

“You’re so quiet”, you say with a chuckle, and Donghyuck makes a mental note to add this harmony to his composition, “you got drunk before I did? Are you really Lee Donghyuck?”

“Well see, I drank all this soju, so I wish I was someone else for the night.”

The statement saddened you, and you withered a little in your seat. Why did Donghyuck drink so much tonight? You came here for you to cheer up, didn’t you? Or were you so caught up in your little personal drama - that you caused yourself - that you missed hearing about his cat dying? You must offer your condolences. Did he even have a cat?

You don’t want to bring up his dead cat in case he did so you just lift your hand next to his head, and weave your fingers through his locks. He has been growing out his hair for months now, and the look might not be the most corporate-professional but it sure fit him. The ash blonde shade that he decided to colour it, brought out the tan of his skin nicely, and the hair itself though bleached was still soft to the touch. 

You see him react to the work of your fingers instantly, his expression shocking you. His mouth is hanging open in a loose ‘O’ shape, small wrinkles forming on the space between his eyebrows. You pick out small pieces of hair, one by one, letting gravity do the rest by allowing the individual hairs to return to their previous state. 

“What are you thinking about?”, you ask so softly it’s almost a whisper, and Donghyuck can only sigh.

YOU, he wants to scream, you’re in my mind all day long and I think I’m going crazy! He is full on staring at you now and there’s nothing in the world that can take his eyes off of you, off your worried eyes that seem to hold all the stars in the sky, or the soft skin of your neck that he wants to kiss and suck and break so badly. But he doesn’t, and the soju calls him a coward for it, so he settles for the next best thing.

“You are pretty”

It was just three words but they sent your mind in a frenzy. Why did it matter so much to you that Donghyuck found you pleasing to look at? He has complimented you before, even flirted with you a lot of times, yet it was always said half-jokingly, followed by a diss. But this time he was serious, no signs of alcohol clouding his eyes. He was so solemn in fact, that those three words made the heat burn on the skin of your cheeks, rising up your throat and hindering you from responding with a human sound. 

He takes one more shot, washing away the embarrassment of his sudden confession and offers to order one more fatty dish to sober up, then take a walk in the city.

The walk was relatively quiet, less awkward than it was 30 minutes ago but Donghyuck was still being uncharacteristically silent.

“I thought you said that alcohol doesn’t make you red”, you say teasingly, trying to spark conversation. 

It doesn’t actually. You were the culprit of the wash of burgundy all over his skin, accumulating even more pigmented around his ears and the freckles of his nose. You were walking side by side now, and Donghyuck thought that for the passersby you two must look like lovers. He let his brain entertain that fantasy, his hand itching to hold yours. He’d intertwine your fingers together, give your palm a little rub with his thumb. Then he’d lift the bundle of fingers on his lips, kiss the thin skin of your wrist and make the aunties that are looking at you now coo in adoration.

“Says you. You look so fucked right now.”, he jokes and you’re relieved to see him go back to his teasing self. You don’t know if it’s the chilly night, but you’re overly aware of the heat his body emits, and the smell of his cologne makes your head spin just a bit more. You’ve been sitting so close to him this entire time that you can list off most, if not all, the ingredients in his perfume. Rose, chilly pepper, orange blossom, lavender. 

“Donghyuck, I will step on you.”

“Mmm, tempting”

You shove his arm playfully and he reciprocates, but his strength is not as controlled as he thinks. The heels of your boots, slippery against the wet floor that the drizzle caused earlier, make you trip on your steps, and Hyuck is luckily there. With his quick reflexes he catches your elbows first, pulling you up against his chest and you grab his left bicep to support your weight. 

You take a deep breath, to register that you did not fall head first on the floor, and that’s when you realise how close Donghyuck is to you. His bangs are tickling your forehead, your deep pants fanning them apart. You admire his glowing skin, the wrinkles of his lips, the two moles lined parallelly with the bridge of his nose. You’re not sure what comes to you, but you raise your free hand and place it over his hot cheek, your thumb connecting those two moles with an invisible line. A raindrop, fresh out of the sky and signifying the start of a new drizzle, falls on his face and follows the trail that a tear would, his voice weak and breaking when he speaks again.

“I’m sorry”

He dips down his head then, connecting your lips and letting the plumpness of his mouth reel you in. You’re over the initial shock almost immediately and kiss him back in vigor, surprised with the heat his kiss has spread to your chest and belly. It was an ember at first, glowing in the very depth of your insides but it was soon starting to spark up uncontrollably, and you were scared of how rapidly it was fueling up. This was your friend you were kissing. So where did all this hunger for him come from?

You pull back when you realise you’re in a road full of people, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him in the eyes. Donghyuck looks disheveled and anxious, and he apologizes again before he urges you to keep walking with him.

“It’s starting to rain. We should get home.”

You walk next to him in complete silence now, stealing quick glances of his reflexion at every surface that made it possible -  the windows of the parked cars, the puddles of water on the sidewalk, a passersby’s glasses. The look on his face is unreadable, pensive if anything else, and it’s rare for the expressive Donghyuck you’re used to dealing with. Your homes are towards the same direction, his a little closer than yours, and it doesn’t take too long for you to reach the entrance of his building, your clothes not even half wet from walking without umbrellas.

Donghyuck fumbles to find his keys, his hands shaking from the adrenaline his body released from the kiss earlier, the feeling still too fresh against his lips. He stresses thinking of what to do next. Should he hug you goodnight? Apologize again for kissing you? Unlock the entrance without a word and never speak to you again? 

“I’m here”, he states dumbly, as if you’d sit at the porch of a strange house and he avoids your eyes as if you were Medusa, “Goodnight.”

You smile back awkwardly at him, waving with a hand made of clay as you wish him the same. He has turned around to unlock the door, key already at the keyhole and you turn to leave too when his voice stills you in place.

“He’s an idiot.” His back is still facing you, and when he turns to look at you his eyes finally lock with yours, as honest and earnest as ever. “Johnny. If it were me, hell, if you wanted me like that I would grab that opportunity- grab you in an instant, convince you to be mine any way I could.”

You’re stuck looking at him like a fool, trying to comprehend what he’s saying and the complications of it. He puffs out through his nose, chuckling to himself and shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter. Goodnight y/n.”

Donghyuck is half inside the entrance now and your body suddenly exits its frozen state, blocking the door from closing with your boot. He’s shocked with the sudden movement and he opens up the door further for you. You get inside the little hall without thinking, sitting firmly in front of him, a puzzled look on his face. 

“What if I told you he hasn’t even crossed my mind this whole time we were out? What if I told you I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you kissed me? Would it matter then?”

He opens his mouth momentarily, as if to speak but decides to stay silent. He already said everything he needed. It’s up to you now.

And you aren’t ready to leave yet.

You take a step forward to close the distance between you, your chests touching and you pick up the distinct smell of soju in his breath. You’re not sure if it’s that smell or the proximity but you feel drunk all over again, the yellow light of the hall shining disturbingly bright down at you and urging you to do something.

You plant a kiss over his neck, leaving a trace of the remnants of the pink lipstick you applied at the start of the workday. It was tentative, but you could still feel his raging pulse from under your lips. You could feel it get faster too, the rhythm going higher along with his body temperature and you decide on a path. A path of kisses starting from the same spot you’ve turned glittery pink, up his jawline and all the way to his earlobe.

Donghyuck clenches his jawline, you feel that too, and something snaps inside him. He just can’t take it anymore, having you so close to him, your lips on his neck and doing nothing about it. The boiling water finally spilled over the pot, hot and overflowing, and he doesn’t care if he gets burned.

You feel the cool wood against your back before you taste his tongue a second after. He has pushed you up against the entrance door, you realize, but it’s hard to comprehend anything around you when he kisses you like that. It’s the steamy, purposeful continuation of the kiss you shared earlier, and with the lack of prying eyes Donghyuck has a good idea of where he wants it to lead.

He shows you too, pushing his knee between your thighs and he feels your heat almost melt the rough fabric of his jeans. There are so many things he wants to do, so many lines he wants to cross but there is one thing he must ensure.

“Tell me you want this.”

You glide your hands upwards from his pecks to the slope of his neck and wrap them around his neck. Your body seems to act up on its own, and you feel yourself grinding down his leg that is still positioned against the wall. It feels dirty, the desperation of it all, and you connect your chest with his again before answering him.

“Lee Donghyuck. I want you to make me cum” 

You grab his hand before he gets to respond, the cool silver of his watch digging against your fingers, and you drag him to the elevator door. As if the universe had sensed your urgency, you find it waiting for you at the bottom floor, and you pull him inside with a tug of his tie.

In no time you find yourself pushed up against the wall again, and you can’t see much beyond Donghyuck’s lips, but you do catch him clumsily pressing the button to his floor with your peripheral vision. Once the elevator is in motion you feel like you can finally submerge yourself in his lips and the way his kisses take your breath away, not sure if the funny feeling in your stomach is from the sudden change in altitude or the arousal. You’re already taking his clothes off, removing the jacket of his suit off his shoulders and working the top buttons of his shirt open.

It’s him that drags you to his apartment this time, urging you out of the elevator as soon as the robotic declaim of his floor number rips through the wet sounds of you kissing. His keys are already easily accessible in his front pocket from your conversation earlier, and when he manages to unlock the entrance with trembling hands you walk inside as if you own the place.

It’s small and cozy, decorated minimally. The first thing you notice is that it smells like Donghyuck, something that should be obvious but it still overwhelms you. It’s maybe a bit stuffy from the hours he was gone yet this is the smell still lingering in your nose from his skin you were sucking just moments ago, trying to distract him from the easy task of opening the door. It’s addictive and you want it stuck on yours.

And Donghyuck does stick on your skin, discarding his tie on the floor with a strong pull and finishing the task of unbuttoning his shirt that you started in the elevator. His movements are impatient and soon he’s half naked, and you barely have time to admire his caramel skin before his hands are all over you. They start safely at the dimples of your waist, then sliding upwards to your ribcage and copping a feel of the underside of your boobs by sneaking his thumbs under the wire of your bra. You want to feel more, encourage his probing fingers so you reach to the clasp on your back, unfastening the garment and removing it through the hem of your blouse. 

Donghyuck can’t take his eyes off your chest, nipples hardened from your arousal and poking through the thin fabric. He takes his thumbs, the same thumbs that lit a fire in your belly earlier and flips the bud, toying it around and rubbing circles around it. The response from you is immediate, moans that start off soft and build up to a crescendo bouncing off the walls of his apartment.

It drives you crazy, a little bit, that smirk he has on his face now. It’s so familiar in between his features, you’ve seen it countless of times, especially during his typical teasings of you, yet is carries so much newfound weight now, so much sex appeal. He’s already giving you what you need but the climaxing is too slow for your liking, you want more and you want it now. You want what you asked him for in the lobby of this building.

Donghyuck can either read your mind or read through the increased frequency of your moans because he undresses down to his boxers, forming a trail of clothes from his living room to his bedroom, where he has led you. He doesn’t even bother to open the lights, relying on the moonlight from his window for lighting and pushing you down on his bedsheets. 

He climbs up with you, hovering over you and you move back a bit so that your head rests comfortably over his pillows. If the smile he gave you earlier had affected you, then the hungry look on his face right now almost makes you come untouched, his eyes raking up and down your body as if he doesn’t know where to start.

He decides on your calves, kissing them and moving upwards slowly and sensually, not missing the sensitive skin on the side of your knees and paying extra attention to your inner thighs. He’s still at it a minute and a half later, and you can’t tell in the dark but you’re sure they must be decorated by bite marks by now, his close proximity to the source of your pleasure making you squirm in his hold.  

It feels like ages since you last felt his fingers when he grips the soft meat of your thighs and spreads them apart. They soon move up to the hem of your skirt, rolling the fabric upwards and over your ass. You feel his breath against your pussy, making it tingle and twitch even more than it already has, and the wait feels like a new level of hell in Dante’s Inferno. 

A single finger pets you over your underwear, drawing lines over the damp fabric from your clit down to your entrance and then up again. You whimper and whine at the sensation that is half a step from what you consider satisfactory and he hooks a finger on the black lace, moving it to the side and letting you experience the cool air of the room all over again. The full exposure brings heat to your face and you breathe through the embarrassment that arouses you even more.

“Hey, Donghyuck?”

“Yes?”

“Is your cat still alive?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He licks one long stripe over your entrance, and you feel the goosebumps spreading all over your arms and legs. Nimble fingers spread your folds apart, and you hold your breath as he lets his cool spit drip from his lips and land onto your lower ones, then starts sucking over your clit. His tongue is wet and his breath is hot, the combination driving you insane. You grip the comforter, digging into it with your nails to keep yourself grounded.

“Oh my god, yes, right there”

The praise motivates him to keep trying hard, not that it will take a lot of effort to make you come undone. Donghyuck’s unprecedented touches and the newfound sexual tension they have ignited had already worked you up, his skill in oral accelerating the build up to your climax even more. And just when you thought it couldn’t get better than this he starts a series of kitten licks right over your clit, each one sending a wave of pleasure stronger than the one before.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum”

You’re grinding on his face, trying to find the right pace when you finally come undone, thighs shaking and desperately trying to push his hands away to cover up your sensitivity again. His hold is steady and he continues to lick you keenly, the lewd sound of him slurping your wetness filling the room. Your eyes open wide and you can only stare at his white ceiling during your overstimulation, the cracks and crumbling plaster caused from humidity looking like constellations in your orgasm-drunk mind. The second climax hits you suddenly but forcefully, unable to control the volume of your voice, not that you can hear yourself clearly in your daze. It’s an array of moans and screams and tiny whimpers of Donghyuck’s name, his beautiful symphony coming to life.

His appetite for you is finally satiated, and he decides to take mercy on you and remove his lips from your pulsating heat. You look so beautiful right now, he thinks, skin illuminated by the pale moonlight that is reflected on the wetness dripping from your pussy. He hovers over you again, pulling you into another kiss and you lazily reciprocate. His member is painfully hard, sliding over your slickness. You squirm and yelp everytime the fabric of his underwear grazes against your clit, your nerve endings screaming in sensitivity.

“I don’t have a condom on me”, you whisper against his lips, the taste of yourself on his tongue engaging you in the kiss again.

“I’m too tired to fuck you like you deserve anyways”

It would be criminal from you to leave him untouched like that. He looks so hot over you, messy hair and chin glistening in your juices. You absentmindedly place your nails on his collarbones, then scratch your way down over his navel. Donghyuck hisses at the numb stinging of pain, hips buckling against your pussy in the pursuit of some sort of friction. 

You move your hand even lower, slipping your fingers past the waistband of his boxers. You move past the bristles you find and grasp his member, that is not too long but an impressive girth. You manage to free it from his underwear, and you can’t really tell in the dim lighting but you bet it must have turned a purple-ish red colour. It’s leaking.

“But we don’t have a condom”

You take one of his hands in yours, giving it a kiss to calm him down, then place it over your left boob. He toys with the mound of your chest, squeezing the softness. You had other plans for him.

Connecting your knees together, you let the softness of your thighs connect, with only maybe a slither of space between them. Your hands are still on Donghyuck’s cock and you reach to hold his balls, massaging them slightly and pulling him towards you.

He takes your cue and leans forward, sliding himself between your thighs. The moan he lets out is guttural and elongated, laced with the beautiful metallic tone of his voice. He lets go of your breasts and wraps his arms around your knees, putting your calves on each of his shoulders and continues to rut his hips against you. 

“Fuck. This feels so good”

You look up to see Donghyuck’s face, contorted in a frown that can only be described as desperate, his lips puffy and red from all the licking and kissing and sucking. 

He looks painfully sexy, and you momentarily imagine all the things you would do to him if the serotonin of your double orgasm and the alcohol in your belly weren’t weighing you down. You’d gladly stay up all night for him, tugging on his long hair as you’d let him bend you in any position he wanted. You bet that thickness would feel amazing stretching you out and you moan at the thought, your thighs flexing involuntarily and making him moan even more. 

Soon he has picked up his pace, the tip of his cock reappearing between your thighs more frequently and you can feel his thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

“Fuck fuck, I’m coming”

He suddenly pushes forward, almost collapsing on top of you as a string of satisfactory groans leave his lips. His hips still with a stagger and you entrancingly watch the ropes of white dripping from his cock and landing on your blouse. It was a mess, but you can worry about it in the morning.

Donghyuck fucks your thighs slowly for a little longer, elongating his pleasure for as long as he can and soothing the crescent moons his nails formed on your skin with his fingertips. He reaches one hand to his bedroom floor where he finds a -what you hope is- clean t-shirt, and pats his cum off your blouse as best as he could.

It has gotten late and you’re both exhausted, Donghyuck’s comfortable weight on top of you lulling you to sleep. He’s hugging your hips now, head resting on your stomach and occasionally kissing your hip bones tenderly. You’re not sure when you slip out of consciousness but you do hear Donghyuck mumble something against your skin, something the kiss of Morpheus doesn’t allow you to make out.

You wake up to a white ceiling. Not just any white ceiling- a cracked, full of moisture pockets ceiling and you wonder when you let the humidity mess up your apartment this much. The culprit of your awakening, the morning sun rays that shine right on your eyes; way too bright than what you’re used to, force your eyelids to open, and it takes you a moment to adjust to the abundant light. This isn’t your apartment.

The sight of a man that greets your barely recovered rentinas shocks you, and you rub your eyes just in case you’re stuck in a lucid dream or something. You see the mess of ash blonde hair and the pile of work clothes discarded on the floor and your mind soon is flooded with last night’s events, buzzed out in your foggy memory. You sense another buzz as well, a physical one this time and you wiggle in place when you feel something hard and metallic digging in your butt. You prod a little with your fingers, trying not to wake up Donghyuck too abruptly and you realise that yes, you’ve been sitting on a phone all night.

Shouldn’t it be a Tuesday today? It’s very bright for it to be that early but surely Donghyuck must have set an alarm for the both of you last night. You yawn involuntarily, deciding to play with your phone until he wakes up as well when the bright white display pulls all the blood from your face.

8:40. You have to be at work in 20 minutes.

“Donghyuck! Hyuck!”

You didn’t care to make your touches light. They were shoves, really, pushing at his shoulders frantically to get him off of you and pull him out of his slumber. He wakes up with a gasp, trying desperately to keep his balance and failing, to then fall unceremoniously on the floor.

“What the hell?”, he groans out with a hoarse, groggy version of his voice, “My head is pounding”

“It will hurt even more once I’m done with you! You didn’t set an alarm last night? Today’s a work day!’

With his eyes bulging, he launches himself forward, grabbing the phone from your hands. 

“Shit, shit, shit”. He’s fully awake now, hands rubbing his face to come up with the next logical steps to take, in order to have you both at work on time and looking presentable. “I have a mouthwash and hairbrush in my bathroom, I’ll get ready here”

“And what the fuck am I supposed to wear?”

“Yesterday’s clothes? Are you really that concerned about recycling an outfit right now?”

You roll your eyes, pushing your blouse down and dragging his comforter off your body. 

“Did you forget about this?”

You straighten out the fabric for him to see, and the big, grossly dried out cum stains aren’t hard to notice. His face looks worried, but not necessarily apologetic, and you can almost see the scenes from the sex you shared last night play through his eyes like a porn film. 

“Your skirt is fine, right? I’ll find a shirt that fits you”

You’re spitting out the fluorescent blue liquid when he timorously walks in the bathroom to leave the piece of clothing he promised. It smells heavily of those moth-repellent sachets and looks slightly wrinkled, like something he pulled out from the depths of his closet but you don’t really have the privilege of playing Suzy Menkes right now. You pull and tuck the fabric in creative ways, in order to style the garment into something you might walk into work wearing one day, yet it’s painfully obvious to you how misfitted it is; too big around the shoulders as one would expect from a man’s shirt.

You exit the bathroom after giving up, pressed by the limited time and the sound of Donghyuck’s uneasy steps through the door. You let him freshen up as well and use the time to collect your things that are scattered all over his place - he was kind enough to bring you your bra that was discarded in his living room floor along with his shirt - and soon you were rushing out of his house and into separate cabs so as not to raise suspicion.

The rest of the day was normal, well- according to this new definition of normalcy for you. Where everything and everyone seems to follow this movie script of what a typical company must look like, while you worry that someone will probe uninvitedly into your thoughts. God knows what they would fish out. A broken record player of Donghyuck’s moans when he cums, the burn of his thick sex rubbing against your thighs, the paths of his neck veins you memorized by heart. 

You shake your head to clear it from the intrusive thoughts, and click the refresh button of your emails. The sound of keys being tapped and printers being put to use lands you back to reality, and you calmly click on the new incoming message from the Sales Department.

It was Johnny.

You’d think that after having his dick down your throat for about half a minute, getting butterflies in your stomach from the mere sight of his email address would stop being a recurring event for you. But alas, here they were, tapping their little wings in a flutter that turns into a hurricane of anxiety, and you sarcastically thank the universe for having to deal with Johnny while looking like an 80’s librarian.

You walk up the stairs like your ankle’s dragging a ball and a chain, the piece of paper in your hands getting slightly ripped from the abuse of your nervous fingers. It was a stupid document, barely half filled with any valuable information and you think it can’t be worth the calories you burned with that trip. It certainly wasn’t worth entering hell, aka mr. Suh’s office, and just the thought of him waiting for you in his fitted suit and gelled back hair is making you light headed. If Johnny was Hades then Donghyuck definitely was Cerberus, guarding his boss with his three heads and his big dick.

You leave a breath out when you realise he isn’t there, making your way onto Johnny’s office with lighter feet. He smiles brightly when he sees you, handsome as ever, and you carefully leave the document on his messy desk.

“Well, isn’t it my favourite intern”

You laugh at his sing-song tone, enjoying how warm he was being today.

“You used to avoid me like the plague and now I’m your favourite?”

“You always were my favourite”, he winks, and pushes back his hair like he knows the effect it has on you, “If someone is avoiding anyone like the plague that’s Donghyuck. I would have sent him to you but I can’t find him anywhere.”

You gulp dryly at his words, an invisible awl pinching your chest. You could feel Donghyuck slipping away from every place that you might share, in a very subtle way, but still noticeable from you. He left the kitchen hastily when you walked in to make your coffee, excused himself out of the lunch break through which you always kept him company, and now he was gone as well. Was last night such a big mistake in his point of view?

“I’m kidding, I just wanted to see you.”

He motions you to come closer and you timidly oblige, serenaded by the sound of his voice but not missing the hunger his eyes hold. He’s still seated in his big leather office chair, thighs spread out in a way that turned you on embarrassingly much, and you fit yourself in the space between his long legs. 

“He is very jumpy though, Donghyuck. Do you know what happened to him?”

Your whole body tenses up, muscles hardening defensively. “Why would I know?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that you guys are so close.”

Close. Close as in having his knee between your thighs, close as in being pushed up against his chest and the elevator mirror. Close as in knowing how his tongue feels massaging your clit. 

“Have I seen you in that before?”

You’re confused with the sudden question and when you search for the context you realise he’s talking about your- Donghyuck’s shirt. Did he smell the sex on you? The overwhelming scent of pheromones and Donghyuck’s cologne that your nose just couldn’t ignore?

“I don’t think so”, you try to answer as nonchalantly as possible, “it’s new.”

“No”, Johnny insists, and pinches the fabric with his fingers. He’s very knowledgeable about fashion, always complimenting you on your outfit choices and you know he wouldn’t let this one go so easily. “I’m sure I’ve seen this before.”

You follow his line of sight towards the ivory fabric too, as if you expected there to be written “YOUR ASSISTANT GAVE ME THE BEST HEAD OF MY LIFE LAST NIGHT”, in a bright red marker. It was a prison, in the form of 99% cotton and 1% pure anxiety, and you know you had to distract Johnny out of this subject one way or the other.

“You like it?”, you ask seductively, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

“I’d like you better without it.”

With just one strong, yet calculated pull he has you sat over the length of his thigh. Your hands land on his chest for stability, right over his pecks that fill your palms easily. There’s nothing you want more than to suck on those perfectly sculpted lips of his, but you’re not too faithful on Donghyuck’s mouthwash so you settle for the earlobe that isn’t pierced instead.

He loves the feeling, the activation of his erogenous area and the suction of your lips that resembles one of your favourite activities together.

“I like this shirt”, he starts, unbuttoning your chest into plain view, “and I love this skirt”

He runs his big hands over the plumpless of your ass, squeezing it then retracting his fingers back on your thighs. They’re cold against your burning skin and the contrast causes goosebumps to erupt in the shape of his handprint.

“You love all my skirts Johnny”

“I do. Because I can do this”

His fingers roll the hem of your skirt up your thigh, the only thing separating your heat with the smooth fabric of his slacks being your skimpy underwear. You’re pretty sure the wetness must be transferring to it already, your thoughts of Donghyuck and all the things he could do with you having you desperate for a release. Johnny pets your clit over your panties then, just a light graze of his finger that elicits a moan from you.

Your hips move on their own, slowly humping his thigh that flexes from under you. You grab his tie to help your movement when your pace picks up, enjoying his body heat that coated you. 

“Someone might see us.”

His desk chair was large, sure, but so was Johnny, and even though his back was facing the door of his office, no one could mistake the sight of you riding him as anything else. 

“I told you, Donghyuck keeps disappearing. And it seems like it won’t take you too long to cum with the way you moan like that, right babe?”

“Johnny…”

You were a whiny mess at this point, humping his leg to reach your high. He was nice enough to help you, his hands guiding you as you mess up all over him, lips stuck on the patch of skin right under your ear.

“You know, I kind of miss you calling me Mr. Suh.” he whispers as he’s sucking on your neck, and you shiver at the tone of his voice, “What do I have to do next time you come over to have you call me like that?”

You can’t contain your whimpers anymore, the stinging tears of arousal threatening to roll down your face, so you close your eyes to keep the moisture in. Everything is just too much, the pleasure of your clit rubbing on him, his nails that dig in the flesh of your hips, the heavy suggestions in his words; your orgasm was hanging by a thread and it was a matter of seconds for it to snap. And it did snap, with a bite on your neck, and along with it your eyes snapped open as well.

Donghyuck was staring right back at you.

Your eyes crossed in pleasure, blurry vision making it hard to focus on him. You were falling apart over Johnny’s body, legs shaking and insides melting with his praise. Donghyuck took the sight in from the opened door, eyes studying your face of pleasure and bare chest decorated with Johnny’s kisses peeking from his own shirt. You’d be lying had you dismissed the fact that his presence intensified your orgasm times a hundred. The exposure of your act, the naughtiness of getting caught and by him of all people. You watched as he retreated outside from the office with silent steps, to give you privacy or recover from the embarrassment or both.

And Donghyuck would be lying too, had he said he didn’t like the sight. The mere memory of your face all fucked out flushed his own in crimson red. He remembered it all clearly, from your plush lips to Johnny’s mess of a hair, to the tremble of your body. It refused to leave his mind, the scene of you getting satisfaction from another man, but not because he wanted to erase it. He thought he fit right in, right in that scene between you and his boss.  

You texted him later that day, apologizing for what he had to witness and promising him you would return the shirt as soon as you washed it. He politely allowed you to keep it, not at all acknowledging the incident from earlier, nor the night you spent together. You didn’t have the guts to ask, for you didn’t know that Donghyuck didn’t regard last night as a mistake, like you thought. He was tired of boiling in the guilt of his feelings, selfishly admitting to himself that he did not regret a single thing. He was into you, he meant every word that came out of his mouth, so why was he avoiding you all day yesterday? He was still the fucking coward.

The next day came rolling along, and with it came a long list of things you wanted to avoid. The first one was arguably dealing with your best friend, the lengthy paperwork you had to fill out being a close second.  

Your mind was occupied with a plethora of thoughts, with Johnny holding the main spot. You’d seen him in your sleep last night, starring in the extremely detailed wet dream your brain fabricated for you, hot breaths and deep thrusts forcing you into the disappointing consciousness of today’s morning.

And the pictures he had sent you right after you decided to get up weren’t helping either. His tall, half naked build occupied most of the shot, skin glistening in the after-shower steam. His toothbrush was hanging from his foamy mouth, in an attempt to make the picture look nonchalant, yet you knew his motives. You let your eyes drink up the sight of his defined abdomen, then moved downwards along the dark happy trail that peeked from the towel, loosely hanging from his waist. Hip bones teasing you and all. Just drop the fucking towel Johnny.

Needless to say, you were a mess when you arrived at the office. The cats in heat outside of your window, the phallic shaped baguette your baker generously treated you with this morning; everything seemed to remind you of the heat between your legs that you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore. You tried rubbing your thighs, drowning in the paperwork, even locking your phone in one of your drawers so as not to be tempted to look at Johnny’s thirst trap again. But he had won.

You grab a bunch of documents that seemed important enough, shove them in your favourite binder, and make your way to Johnny’s office upstairs. 

You knew you had to deal with Donghyuck. It was the unavoidable repercussion of messing up your life like that, getting men that were too good looking for this boring ass company tangled up in what seemed to be a simple internship. Taking a deep breath, then two more for good measure, you start to strut confidently in a straight line that led to Johnny’s office door.

“He’s on call, come back later.”

Your head instinctively turns to the source of the sound, to find Donghyuck staring at the display of his laptop that seemed to be much more interesting than you. The matter-of-fact way he formed his sentences was not unlike him, yet something in you begged for a little bit of attention. Blame it on how horny you’ve been all morning, or the fact that now that you’ve seen him naked, the strict tone affects you much more than it should.

Bothered by your thoughts and thinking about having to sit back at your office for the rest of the work day, you let the binder slip from your hands and drop on the wooden floor. You lean down to collect the scattered pieces of paper, your heels making it hard for you to keep your balance easily, and soon enough you sense a movement from behind you.

“No panties huh?”

It was supposed to be a surprise. Payback for the dirty thoughts Johnny planted in your head this morning. You’d walk in all innocently, sit right across his desk and give him a little Basic Instinct Sharon Stone moment. Then leave him high and dry again, while mentally keeping a note to clear out all your plans for the weekend. But see, he couldn’t give you what you wanted after all, and your resolve started to break. Whatever it was you wanted, you wanted it now.

You get up, unfolding your body slowly and refusing to look at Donghyuck, much like he did when you walked inside. The smirk playing on your lips couldn’t be concealed through your voice.

“Like what you see?”

You gasp as he presses up against you, the only contact you have with one another being his hard-on that nudges your ass. Following your body’s orders, you push back against him too, and you can tell the breath he lets out is ragged and full of tension.

He reaches for your binder with an arm around you, flipping through the pages as he sucks his teeth in disapproval.

“These are last week’s reports. Are you really here for these or are you looking for another quickie with Johnny?” A moan escapes you then, and the little thrust that Donghyuck allows himself drives you both crazy. “Thought so. How insatiable are you? I made you cum two nights ago, Johnny helped you out yesterday. If you really are that desperate you could’ve just come to me for help, doll”

His soft palm rests on the front of your thigh, slowly sliding his way under your skirt. You squirm in his hold in anticipation, and you have to bite your tongue to hold in the noises that threaten to leave you. 

“Donghyuck, Johnny is sitting right through that door. He could come out any minute now and see us”

“And?”

“Your boss is sitting right through that door. You could get fired”

“I could die after this”

His thumb ficks your clit swiftly, and Donghyuck takes this opportunity to slip his other one inside your gaping mouth.

“But-“

“Shh. Don’t talk with your mouth full, baby”

You’re melting in his hold at this point, your back still resting against his chest, lips sucking his digit. The scent of his cologne that you’ve grown so familiar with overwhelms you, painting all your surroundings in a red tint of lust.

“Spread your legs for me”. You oblige with his orders immediately, your arousal not allowing you to keep him waiting. “Wider”.

You take a quick look behind your shoulder to check that the door is still, indeed, closed, only to be met face to face with Donghyuck. His breath is hot against your face, eyes locked on his thumb toying with your lower lip and you completely forget what you initially turned around for. The kiss was natural, your lips melding easily with his ones. The need for him washes over you like a heatwave and you lift your skirt to urge him to continue before you go insane. 

He gets the hint and moves his hand lower, middle finger tracing your opening ever so slightly. It makes you shiver and you realise how quiet the room has fallen, the only source of sound coming muffled through the closed door to Johnny’s office. It excites you and it must show through the wetness between your lower lips, and Donghyuck patiently collects it all. He transfers the moisture over the bud of your clit, his finger smoothly massaging the sensitive skin. It feels divine and there’s no way you’d ask him to stop yet you know there’s something else Donghyuck is after, the sweet tightness that he didn’t get to experience that night at his apartment.

It was a bit much to fuck you out there like that, even for his exhibitionistic tendencies, but nothing could stop him from feeling the next best thing. 

His first finger enters you unhurriedly, careful of your reactions. You moan out his name and he moans at how tight you are, soft pussy practically sucking his finger in. He soon enters his ring finger as well, slowly moving them inside you until you feel every stretch and curl. Your wetness starts to drip at this point, coating his fingers with your juices.

“Such a dirty girl, making all this mess at my office”

The leisure pace ruins you, your eyes shut close in search of patience. You feel his other palm move from under your skirt as well, resting flat against your lower abdomen. He wants to feel himself inside you.

“Donghyuck, please. More”

A chuckle is heard from your left ear, and you can vividly imagine how his face must look like now. The cocky smirk, the tongue poking the inside of his cheek. The next pump has you muffling your whimpers with the back of your fist, his fingers curling just right and fucking straight into your g-spot. 

“More? Look at you. Pretty slut.” 

He’s full on finger fucking you now, and swallowing your moans is gradually becoming more and more difficult. The world crumbles from under your feet and you let yourself get carried away in the intense pleasure, the fast pumping making your legs shake.

“You’re gonna cum?”, he whispers again, and you can only respond with a nod, “That’s my fucking girl”

The orgasm’s intense, shaking you as you bite your hand and hold onto Donghyuck for extra support. He continues to move his fingers afterwards, drawing out your euphoria for as long as he can, then finally leaves you empty once your moans have died down. You immediately cover yourself up again once you sober up from your high, suddenly embarrassed by Donghyuck’s intense stare. He’s moving his eyes through all the features of your face, only for them to fall frozen on your lips, and lifts his hand up to rest his two fingers over them. You get his initiative and put them in your mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue.

“Unless you want us both to get fired I think you should go back to your office. I don’t think I can contain myself around you”

You release his digits with a pop, your eyes full of seduction.  

“What would you do to me?”

Donghyuck growls at your question, turning you around so that you’re fully face to face and chest to chest. 

“You’d look so pretty on your knees, mouth full of cock”. He grabs a handful of your ass, bringing you flush against him and proceeds to grind his painfully hard dick between your thighs. Your noses touch and you feel dizzy at the proximity; the words he mutters against your cum coated lips. “I’d peel those clothes off of you, find the nearest mirror. Stretch you out against the glass so that you see how good you take it.”

You shiver as a response, then force yourself to put some distance between you before you do something stupid. He kindly helps you collect your things in silence, those useless documents that were laying scattered on the floor, and in a moment of weakness you let him pin you against the wall right before you go.There was something so addictive about him and your chemistry, and your lips burn at the memory of his kisses. You’re not sure how much longer you can contain that hunger anymore.

The end of a shift and the beginning of another overtime. It felt like deja vu at this point, after all the countless extra hours you’ve put into the internship, seeing people grab their briefcases and their car keys as they empty the space around you. You take a moment to appreciate the view of the setting sun from the small window of your office, inhaling deeply as you wrap the hair that’s been bothering you in a ponytail. Your neck hurts and the tension of your body is translating into a dull pain, so you stretch it a little, bobbing your head from side to side.

You jump a little in your seat when you feel a set of hands on your shoulder blades. They massage the sore spots, treating the muscle knots and helping your blood flow freely. It was obvious Donghyuck didn’t have enough of you earlier, and you pout at having to turn down another visit to his apartment because of your overtime duties. 

You were ready to scold him off, tell him you’re busy and that you promise to make it up for him another time, when you feel his soft lips kissing the most sensitive spot on the slope of your neck. You let out a long sigh, subconsciously exposing your neck more for him, and a high pitched whine rumbles in your chest. It’s released as a moan of Donghyuck’s name.

“Donghyuck?!”

You freeze in the uncomfortable arch, your ears confused by the deepness of the voice belonging to the man behind you. Not even the confusion laced in it can cover up the lack of airiness and clarity you’re used to when it comes to Donghyuck’s tone. It’s Johnny.

“I… We-“

You’re left speechless, clueless as to what to say next. You know you don’t have to explain yourself, it’s not like you and Johnny are exclusive. Yet his shocked face at the sound of his assistant’s name coming so lewdly off your lips has your brain scrambling to find some sort of explanation. Thankfully, he’d interrupt your panic in a second.

“The big boss wants you upstairs. I offered to come get you.”

He doesn’t sound angry or upset, nor disappointed. It’s a fresh air of relief before you realize that this is not what you should worry about right now. What the hell does the CEO of the company want to talk to you about? Are you getting the boot? It must be it, but why? Your numbers have been great, you’re always on time - except that one morning, but technically it was Donghyuck’s fault - and you’ve been praised by your supervisor numerous times during your internship.

Unless- What if there’s cameras in the office? 

You start to panic at the thought of an involuntary sex tape become the cause of your dismissal, so caught up in your thoughts that you’re completely unaware you’ve spent the entire trip up the stairs with Johnny in silence. When you enter the CEO’s office, heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears, you notice that all of the department’s supervisors are present in the impromptu meeting as well. You sit next to Johnny, in an attempt to calm yourself down, and you see the head of your department send you an encouraging smile.

“Shall we start?”

A briefing of your work in the company ensued, numbers and graphs that wouldn’t make sense to anyone other than the people in the room. Thirty minutes have passed and no surveillance tape has been whipped out, turning you more confused than ever. The numbers were good, the words from your supervisor are complimentary, so why would they fire you? 

“That is all for the briefing. After seeing your progress and the contribution you’ve made to the company, we’ve decided to offer you a permanent position, if you’d be interested of course”

Oh my god. You can’t believe this day finally came. Your face was glowing, and you tried to convince yourself to stay calm while you talked about your new position and the raise in salary that came with it. With shaky hands you sign the documents, and your boss congratulates you once again, dismissing you off your overtime. 

You waited for everyone to leave the hallway before jumping in Johnny’s arms. He caught you easily, strong build supporting you and lifting your feet off the ground before landing you safely again.

“Good job intern, I’m so proud of you”

“Hey, I’m not an intern anymore!”, you complain by bumping his chest with your fist and he pats your head lovingly in return.

“Why did you have to be in the room as well? Did you know about my promotion?”

“No, actually, they just told me an hour ago. It was hard to keep myself from telling you everything right away.”

The excitement coursed through you, and a sudden urge to kiss him until your lips were numb overwhelmed you. You were ready to turn your thoughts into reality, when you saw Donghyuck from the corner of your eye, instinctively smiling at your obvious happiness.

“What’s the occasion?”

“I got promoted!”

Donghyuck gasped, a huge smile spreading across his face. Your excitement’s contentious so he tackles you without a second thought, his embrace so tight that you can barely breathe. You can see that he’s trying his best to contain a kiss, his glance moving back and forth between you and Johnny. He still kept a possessive hand around your waist once he let you down however, a gesture that could seem innocent yet you knew better.

Johnny smirks at the sight of you two, confidence dripping off his body and making you shiver. You get dizzy at the thought of Donghyuck not knowing that Johnny knows about you, yet Donghyuck knowing about Johnny but not giving a fuck.

“So how do we celebrate?”, the older man asks, with a playful tone that might as well be your active imagination.

“Wanna go for a drink?”, Donghyuck suggests, boldly keeping his eyes at you only while he does so.

You pout in thought, humming pensively when an idea pops into your head. 

“How about you come over my place for one?”

You should have thought this through more thoroughly, is all you can think about as you’re trapped between Johnny and Hyuck on your couch. Well, not really- there is a sizable distance between you three, yet the atmosphere in the room is so dense it’s nearly palpable. Three glasses, half-full of the alcohol of their choice are sitting on the coffee table in front of you, and you awkwardly stare at the sweat that falls from your glass and forms rings on the wooden surface. 

Your body has loosened up from your drink yet your heart can’t stop racing, not when Donghyuck is looking at you like that. He looks like a man starved for days while you’re the meal presented deliciously in his arm’s reach, and he can’t wait to have you alone and curve his growing appetite. And you ignore Johnny’s cheeky smiles and flirtatious winks as well, carrying on a conversation that doesn’t belong in the inescapable tone of the room but flows easily, until it ends and you’re met with heavy silence and the ticking analog clock on your wall again.

You ask them if they would like some water, getting up before you receive an answer, and you yelp a little when you feel a strong arm halting your trip to the kitchen before it even started. You lose your balance and wobble a little in your spot before unceremoniously landing on Johnny’s lap.

He doesn’t help you up, but loops and arm around your waist instead, holding you in place. In circumstances other than the ones that have already made their mark on your sexual history, staying in this position with his assistant still in the room would be highly inappropriate.

“You’re all we need”, he reassures you with a voice made of silk, then repositions you with a jerk of his knee, your heat grinding right against his half hard member.

“When were you gonna tell me?”

You open and close your mouth sequentially like a fish out of water, choking out a reply after the insistent tick-tock that resonates through the room and gives a tempo to your anxiety.

“I’m sorry?”

“You know what I’m talking about. A little birdy told me I’m not the only one enjoying this perfect little body. Is that right Donghyuck?”

Donghyuck’s eyes bulged out of his skull, almost choking in the sip of the drink he was enjoying when the unexpected question hit him. Sizzling heat floods your face as he stares at you sternly, and you shake your head defensively.

“I didn’t tell him-“

“Well no, not exactly”, Johnny interrupts and places his big hands over your thighs, “I was just kissing her neck, trying to get her to relax, and lo and behold, she starts moaning your name like its a fucking reflex. You’ve really gotten into her head, apparently”

Donghyuck swells up in pride, that much is evident, yet he’s way too distracted to say anything in response, too busy staring at Johnny’s fingers spreading your thighs apart to expose your damp underwear. Johnny’s lips are planted on your neck, teeth nibbling on your earlobe and you wince when you feel the sharp sting of a slap on your inner thigh.

“You aren’t being a good hostess, baby. Open up your legs more, let Hyuck see your pretty pussy. You remember what word to say when you want me to stop, right?” You whimper the designated safe word while opening your thighs further, digging the heels of your feet in the couch’s pillows. “Good girl”

He dips a hand through the band of your underwear, busying his fingers under the fabric. You moan as they slide through the wetness and he smiles a cocky smile when he sees Donghyuck palming himself through his slacks. He removes the skimpy thong with the help of your hips moving to assist him, to then push the fabric inside your mouth with little to no resistance from you.

“Isn’t this pussy divine? I swear when I bottomed out inside of her the first time I thought I lost my damn mind”

He toys with your opening, only dipping half a finger in to challenge Donghyuck to pay attention.

“We haven’t actually…”

“She only let you play with her?”, Johnny teases him, then pushes his point and middle finger all the way inside you, making his assistant’s imagination run wild at what your pussy must feel like sucking him in. “You’re missing out man”

“I’ve made her cum probably twice as many times as you’ve ever have”

You chuckle at his smart remark and Johnny glares at you, softly slapping your pussy to keep you at bay.

“No one addressed you. You’ll get to make all the noise you want in a sec, baby”

You squirm in place, letting out a muffled apology through your gag and Donghyuck looks seriously affected by the sight.

“Isn’t she obedient?”, Johnny asks while grazing your g-spot, and you moan from both the praise and the stimulation.

Hyuck unbuttons his pants at the lewd sound, pulling his dick from the slit of his boxers and you admire his impressive girth. He lets his body decline comfortably on the pillows behind him, spreading his own legs at shoulder-length. The mouth-watering sight of him jerking himself slowly with the aid of his precum clouds your vision; you’re just as needy for him as he is for you.

“She’s a little brat”

“I guess I know how to make her listen”. Johnny lifts your dress over your hips, then helps you off of it through the hem. With a rehearsed flick of his fingers he discards your bra as well, leaving you completely naked for Donghyuck’s eyes to feast on. His hands immediately grope your breasts, playing with the mounds and putting on a show. “I could undress you over and over and over again”

You feel his fingers retract from inside your pussy to form a ‘V’ over your lower lips, making your hole even more visible along with the wetness that’s dripping out of it.

“Will you let Donghyuck use your pussy baby? I feel a little greedy using it all on my own”

You groan in the anticipation and let your head fall back on Johnny’s shoulder, nodding pathetically and mumbling through your thong.

“Oh god, yes, yes, yes”

Donghyuck has heard enough, and with Johnny urging him on he’s standing half naked in front of you in seconds. His boxers are discarded next to his trousers on the floor, tie hanging loosely from the collar. He still has a hand wrapped around his angry sex, red tip and veiny details making you swoon.

“Go on”, Johnny encourages him, “she’s more than wet enough”

Donghyuck rests his left knee on the cushion of the couch, right between your foot and Johnny’s thigh. A little foiled square is getting ripped by his nimble fingers and you bewitchedly watch him wrap up his cock. He slaps it over your entrance a couple times, coming in contact with the other man’s fingers that are still keeping you fully exposed, then finally thrusts himself inside you. A conglomerate of what seems like three different curses leave his lips, eyebrows furrowed in a pleasureful expression.

“Fuck”

“Tight, isn’t she?”

“So fucking tight baby, damn”

Johnny may have a cock so lengthy that most men are envious of, yet Donghyuck’s girth is really something else. It stretches you out more than you've had in months, dull pain getting numb with every release of serotonin from your brain. You almost cry when he removes the entire thing out of you.

“I have to feel that again”

And indeed he does, submerging himself in the tightness of your walls only his fingers had the privilege of experiencing thus far. You feel amazing wrapped up around him, pussy hot and burning in desire as he dips himself further inside you, pushing you up against Johnny’s chest. You hiss in the sting and whimper softly, prompting the man behind you to ungag you finally.

“What is it baby? Hyuckie’s dick is too big for your tight little hole?”

You nod affirmatively while keeping eye contact with the man mentioned, big glossy eyes awakening something dark inside him. He wants to ruin you.

“Maybe you don’t fuck her hard enough”

You can’t see Johnny from the way you’re seated but you know he must have a smile on his face, well aware of the confidence he possesses for his own abilities in the bedroom. His big hands leave your labia and make their way over to your calves, bending you in a way that is almost painful.

“How about you show me how it’s done, then?”

Donghyuck is always up for a challenge, so he wraps a hand loosely around your throat so as to gain leverage. He pulls his hips backwards, gaining momentum, then slaps them forcefully against your own. You moan loudly at the depth, hands scrambling to find something to hold on to as he’s nailing you against the couch. Johnny’s there to catch your sounds with his lips, eating them up eagerly as he slips his tongue inside you and continues to play with your nipples. 

“Is that hard enough for you?”

Continuing his brutal pace restlessly, Donghyuck tightens his grasp around your neck, enough to hamper your blood flow and drool around the other man’s mouth. You’re so out of it at this point, dirty sound after another leaving your lips and you gasp at Johnny’s fingers that are suddenly circling around your clit.

“I’m close, please”, you manage to whimper from between them, Hyuck’s pace only fastening in the sound of your plea. The tip of his cock, thick like the rest of him, grazes against your sensitive spot again and again, not missing a single thrust. He digs a thumb in the softness of your cheek, pulling you away from Johnny and connecting his forehead with yours. By the sounds of his grunts it won’t take long until he comes as well.

“Made just for me”, he whispers against your lips, and you gasp when you feel the heat overflowing in your sex area, vision blurry as you let go and scream in complete pleasure. Donghyuck basks in the confirmation of how good he’s made you feel, hips stuttering as he empties his cum in you and inside the condom. His thigh muscles may be contracting in tiredness yet he doesn’t halt his movements, milking your orgasm for all its worth. You’re basically putty in Johnny’s lap at this point, sex drunk and high from your release.  

“Not bad”, he admits, even though he had some credit to claim with the fast fingerwork he showed earlier. He holds your thighs again, closing them up to help you relax and you wince at the pain in your haunch, the result of staying in a flexibility-demanding position for so long.

You wait until your heartbeat slows down, turning around to face Johnny as Donghyuck ties up and discards the used condom. He sends you a warm smile, petting the messy hair out of your line of sight and you relax in the feeling of safety, batting your eyes up at him cutely.

“What about you?”, you practically meow, moaning softly as you feel his boner twitching from beneath his trousers.

“What about me? Didn’t you have enough?” 

He knows your appetite, knows there’s no way you’d be satisfied by one round only. And how could you, when he sits so deliciously from under you, his big body reeling you in. You know what he wants to hear.

“Please, Johnny”, you plead, playing with the thin tie still neatly keeping his shirt in place. “I need you”

“You need what?”, he growls against your lips, trying to coax as much desperation out of you as possible.

“I need your big cock inside me, please”

“Ass up”

You get up from your seat, complying with his commands and getting on your knees before your tired legs betray you and leave you a mess on the floor.  His hands cup your ass in admiration, giving it a little spank before he slides them over your dorsals. A careful push forces you to arch your back even more, and your cheeks burn at the eager position he has bent you in. You shiver when his cock enters you halfway.

“You’re still not used to me babe?”

“It’s not my fault that you’re so fucking big, Johnny”

“Then maybe I should stay still? Since you can’t take it?”

“No!”, you oppose, tears of frustration threatening to spill out of their ducts, “I can take it, just move!”

You howl as he bottoms out, his long length making you lose your mind. It’s been a while since you’ve had anything more than his fingers and you’ve missed the way he fits inside of you. You hear shuffling from behind you and soon he’s bending over you, wrapping his tie around your neck. With a pull you’re flush against his chest again, and the buttons of his shirt are already leaving little indentations on your skin. You wish it bruises.

“Do you remember what I wanted you to call me the other day?”, he whispers next to the shell of your ear, dark tone sending shivers down your spine.

“Mr. Suh”

“Exactly. Now will you let me fuck you the way I want?”

“Yes sir”

“What a good girl”

Johnny slams into you fully, every pull of his hips resulting in the restriction of your airflow. A game of wanting more of him and sacrificing your oxygen for it begins, and it doesn’t take long for you to turn completely into a submissive mess for him. He’s whispering filth in your ears, hips keeping their inhuman tempo until you’re all out of energy and fall nonvocal. Donghyuck gets hard again at the sight.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Johnny, who is more than willing to share your body for the pleasure he’s after- at least part of it. He waits until the younger man’s dick is fully solid in his grasp, standing tall and red right in front of you and he lets go of the constraint of your neck without notice.

You fall face first on Donghyuck’s thick thighs, his quick reflexes catching you from a harder impact. His member is twitching right next to your face, tip grazing against your left temple and he helps your head up by wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail that his fingers hold together. You wrap your lips around his tip obediently, twirling your tongue around his member until you reach his hairy base. He tastes a bit rubbery from the condom earlier but you choose to ignore it, focusing on hollowing your cheeks around him instead.

Every hard thrust of Johnny’s propels you forward onto Donghyuck’s cock, the bobbing motion natural yet you struggle to take them both inside you. Donghyuck enjoys the vibrations of the moans you make when the other man hits a deep spot in your pussy, Johnny groans when you clench around him as Donghyuck abuses your throat. It’s a give and take of intense pleasure and you know you can’t take much more, the men’s moans growing louder with every thrust. 

“Do you like Hyuck’s cock needy baby? Have you finally had enough?”

He punctuates each word with a slam, one harder than the other, and the rope inside your belly snaps with the arrival of your second orgasm. You try your hardest to stay in place, beg your thighs not to let you collapse as you let Johnny drive you into overstimuation.

“Yes, sir. I love it”

Johnny grunts at the sound of his title, so dirty coming muffled by another man’s dick that it’s enough to send him over the edge. You feel the hot cum filling up the condom inside you, and his spurts take so long that the little tweaks coax another orgasm from you.

Donghyuck drinks up the scene unveiling in front of him, a steady hand forcing your jaw open as he starts to jerk off quickly over your face.

“I want to see your tongue covered in my cum”

You lick your lips seductively in response, opening your mouth up to welcome his ropes of white liquid that leave his slit a second after. They fill your mouth little by little, painting the inside of it and you hold your tongue out to show him his creation, a couple of drops dripping from the corners before you swallow as much as you can. He collects whatever’s left on your jaw, pushing it in and letting you suckle on his thumb dumbly before letting go.

You collapse on the couch, exhausted after giving all that your body could handle after a work day, and you sit in silence as Johnny massages your feet and Donghyuck kisses your neck to calm you down. Your head hurts from the sex and the possibilities that this new combination can bring to your love life, belly tingling in excitement at the same time. You don’t know where this will lead, or when will be the next time you’ll indulge in the company of the both of them stuck on your body. All that you know is that this promotion, at least the celebration of it, tastes really, really sweet. 

thank you for reading ❤ feedback is much appreciated! If you liked Promotion you can check out Work for it to see where it all started! :) 

[studiojeon]

troubled outsiders | intro - jjk

| summary | -  how you two end up pining for each other.

warnings: none :) 

content: idol!jungkook x student!oc, friends to lovers (because it’s THE superior trope okurrrt), jungkook is quiet and shy but a social butterfly when needed (and when it comes to oc but you’re not supposed to know that yet), oc is both a badass and a socially akward queen, she has TWO friends and only because one is dating the other (like... same), the Lee Charyeong is her bestie, oc works at bighit and feels like everyone either fears her or hates her, author nim is a crackhead and has no plot planned for this series whatsoever (doesn’t know if she’ll keep this up, we’ll see).

words: 1.93 k

His presence was overwhelming, to say the least. Even if he were surrounded by six hundred other equally handsome men, somehow, to you (and the majority of the female population, at that point) he was as captivating and magnetic as they come. Jeon Jungkook didn't pay no mind to no one, but sure as hell everyone became hyper aware of his existence and essence in time. And that didn’t exclude you.

Yet, as nonchalant and indifferent as the man could be perceived, in reality he was more considerate and friendly than the aura he exuded. You knew this because working in the same company had to teach a thing or two about the people who literally carried said company and the whole industry at some point, still you barely knew four or three people, including your assistant and Jungkook, whom you had met once.

The opportunity of working at the company had come to you out of the blue, quite literally, you were attempting to send one of your assignments in when an email appeared in your notifications during your sailor moon study break. 

HYBE Entertainment

We’re glad to inform you that you’re being recruited for the position of Logistics Manager in one of our sub companies, BIGHIT Entertainment. We’ve thoroughly looked through the CV you’ve submitted and are very interested in your capabilities and what you can contribute to our organization. One of our other managers will gladly meet you on a day you can both agree on. Make sure to answer this email to get more details about your interview.

“Nani!? THE FUCK?” sure as hell that your eyes and cognitive functions were deceiving you (ADHD) you went over the text a little over three times in a row before the message settled in your mind. This was sus. 

Before even considering a reply you made a quick call. “Fucking Lee Chaeryeong” you spat on your end of the line. “You did this, didn’t you?”.

Her silence was more than enough to have you cursing her under your breath. “I don’t know what exactly you’re talking about but it most likely was me. Does it have to do with a sex toy in particular?”

“No” you denied almost monotonously, guessing the pile of boxes in the corner of your room with her names on them was what she referred to. “Does anything come to mind if i mention BIGHIT FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT?”

It was her. All those conversations during the summer about how badly you wanted to work in the entertainment business as marketing staff of some sort had their effect on your friend, who, despite all your excuses and denials, knew you better than you and your mom combined did, and because of this, was sure as hell you were not making a move towards that goal whatsoever. So, being the boss bitch she was, she took matters into her own hands, was what she explained.

You concluded that was the reason you had reached a point in your life where you had more experience than most recently graduated kids in your field, because Chaeryeong had you moving every summer break. You had been the manager of a coffee franchise and convenience store during you junior and senior years, and also figured a way to improve the marketing management strategy of a fucking restaurant while at it. Not to toot your own horn, but you were kind of cool.

Or not. “I hope this job satisfies your workaholic ass for once, I’m running out of ideas”. Chaeryeong spat before hanging up.

Sure as hell it would. 

On friday afternoon, you made your way to the HYBE INSIGHT building and introduced yourself to your recruiters who promised to give you a call at some point. “It went fine” you told Chaeryeong once you were in your car. And it was the truth, however you weren’t so sure if they would actually hire you at some point since well, you were a girl in a male dominated industry and, in your opinion, there were always better people than you. “Wanna go grab coffee?”

“I want to. But, I have practice today. I’m actually on my way there. Please avoid driving through Hongdae today, this shit’s packed.” You sighed and thanked her for the heads up. You missed your friend, badly. You hadn’t seen each other in three weeks, and you didn’t even live so far away from each other (you did, but it had been worse before). You two had very agitated lives to say the least. Chaeryeong was a kpop group member, and well, you were jumping from job to job and getting your phD in Business Management at the same time. It was hard to find moments to spare together during some periods of the year, but you guess the anticipation made your encounters better.

“Talk about anticipation” you slammed your forehead against your desk, taking a breather after such an anxiety packed situation. Short story: you got the job (for some fucking reason). And you had gone through a whole week of expectancy and anguish. Not getting that job would have broken your heart, and ego at the same time. 

You guessed the law of attraction tactics Chaeryeong had taught you had sorted their effect and were what led you to your current position in life.

“Miss _____, your presentation’s ready” your work assistant gave you a comforting pat in the back as she took a seat somewhere next to you. You were nervous, shitless. It was your fifth week at the job, and being the proactive woman you were, you had collected lots of data in order to come up with a resources management plan.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and more than a hundred people sat in front of you, waiting for your speech. Including him, who you’d once bumped into accidentally during one of your data recollections runs inside the building. 

You hated having the need to impress others yet, hence your anxious behaviour. But this was a decisive moment in regards to your validation in your new job and how you’d continue to be perceived during your work stance (no reason to panic at all)… you needed to get it together.

“I think I just pissed off a bunch of old men right now,” you told your assistant right after you got off stage. “I need a bathroom break”. Linh gave you a reassuring smile, one she always had plastered on her face.

“Take as long as you need to. I’ll give you a call once the rest are done”.

The commute to the bathroom was unnecessarily complicated in your opinion. You had spent a little over a month rushing through the hallways of the building and you swore every single day your spatial orientation got a bit more fucked up. There was no way there wasn’t a single bathroom on the floor you were in, that would just be atrocious. “It’s not completed yet” someone said beside you as you stared at the half empty map the company had projected on a wall next to the elevators. “Where do you need to go?” 

Kim Taehyung of all people in the world was talking to your ugly and unworthy ass. Your breath caught in your throat and after staring for at least five seconds your body finally reacted to your orders. “Oh, um… the bathroom. I’ve been looking for it for a good ten minutes” you explained with a nervous laugh.

“Trust me, I get it. I still get lost over here” he smiled gently. “It’s in the hallway in the middle of the next hallway” 

You laughed at his very ambiguous explanation. “Thank you” you bowed your head and made your way to said destination.

It was in the hallway to your left, not your right, and it took you a while to figure out that new piece of information. Once you were staring at yourself in the mirror, you realized that you looked considerably tired and exhausted from all the social interaction you had undergone throughout the day. You were used to the side stares and whispering you’d get whenever you entered a room at that point, but some days you just wished you could get a break from them. After all, it wasn’t your fault you didn’t look Korean at all, and that you also didn’t fit the stereotype of a foreigner.

You got that from your mom, both the non Korean features and social fatigue. But that wasn’t even the problem most of the time, it was your friendly and smart nature which she had also passed onto you. Some would consider it a blessing, but to you it was a burden, like a clear glass that shielded you from introducing yourself into other people’s realities. You had few friends and people to trust, but in your everyday life you had to deal with the pressure of standing out too much and that came with a lot of negative energy from others. You sigh as you spray your favorite fragrance on yourself. You could be feeling like shit, but no one will ever catch you slipping.

But that excluded him apparently. You hadn’t noticed that on the other side of the hallway was the men’s bathroom and the realization hit you as you were calmly getting some tea from the vending machine. “Good afternoon” the man greeted you as he made his way out the hallway, but stopped in his tracks right after he noticed you. “_____! Hi” he smiled at you and you wanted to die, suddenly forgetting what you were ordering in the first place.

“H-hi Jungkook” You smiled back, poorly attempting to put your wallet back into your backpack. 

“Need help there?” he noticed your agitated state and held your bag for you. He smelled just as heavenly as you had expected, somewhat between big dick energy and flowers. Oh, and he also remained as kind and polite as you remembered him.

Seeming as if he wasn’t planning on continuing his path to wherever he was heading to in the first place, he stood quietly by your side, waiting for you to be done with your deal. “How have you been?” you break the ice for him.

Quickly, you grab your tea and start walking back to the auditorium together, unaware of your surroundings or the suspicions that could arise. “Busy, but very good. How have you been? I saw your presentation earlier… I wish I understood half of what you said but you still sounded amazing”.

And you would never admit it out loud, but you were positive you were blushing (and falling in love too - platonically, of course). “Oh god, you think so? I basically told them they’ve been doing things wrong all along so maybe you’re the only one who’s appreciative of my work” you handed him the second can of iced tea you bought without him noticing. You swear his eyes lit up like stars in the night sky. “Payback for the other day” you smile at him.

The first time you two had crossed paths you didn’t look nearly as glamorous as you did now. In fact, you looked incredibly disturbed and in pain, carrying a huge pile of paperwork in your hands. But as soon as sweet Jungkook noticed your state, he offered you a hand and somehow ended up helping through your multiple data collecting trips that afternoon. It was a nice day.

“Anytime” he took the can in his hands with a shy look on his face. “Unless I’m practicing, you know…” you look down at his feet, with huge black boots engulfing them, and you smile due to their contrast with his personality. “Here, i’ll give you my number so you can call me whenever you need to put all those papers back. Hopefully I’ll be around” he added as he pulled his phone from his back pocket.

Way to get a girl’s number, my god.

[foxymoxynoona]

A Beautiful Beyond

NOTE: This is a short story sequel to A Sea of Indigo, which you can read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25881670/chapters/62890984

Summary: Years have passed since Jungkook came to Marigold, years since you kissed beneath the stars and confessed your love and bound yourself together. But now a new challenger has entered the ring, one which threatens to unbalance everything: your first baby! Good luck, kids.

Pitbull Hybrid Jeon Jungkook x Human Reader(Y/N) Words: 14,339

CW: not much, childbirth, domestic fluff, pregnancy, new parents, reference to prior miscarriage

Read on ao3 or below cut: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33741412

Jungkook sat in a scratchy chair in the far corner of the ballroom, next to a wide round table with his things on it. Correction, your things. Your conference bag, packed to the brim with pamphlets, samples of lotions and special shampoos and bandages and protein snacks, branded pens and water bottles and lollipops. Your messenger bag which he had carried all day, overstuffed with your own journals, loose notes, two books, phone charger, ginger candies, comfier flat shoes, socks, and enough snacks to constitute two meals, with a water bottle dangling from the strap by a carabiner. A stack of magazines and trade journals and news articles you’d collected from booths introducing health treatments, medical technologies, or new mental health services formed a stack beside the bags.  

Jungkook stretched in his chair and scratched his scalp and blinked around the room as if he’d just woken from a nap. He hadn’t, he would never fall asleep while you were wandering a crowded place like this and might need his help at any moment. But it was boring. So fucking boring. Though not the first conference he had traveled with you for, this particular time, his patience for a three days full of lectures and networking and chatty lunches was thin.

He watched you lean against a tall table, talking with two other women, both nurses who worked at other hybrid sanctuaries in Asia. So many people you knew had descended on Tokyo for this international conference. You had begged and pleaded to go after Jungkook said he didn’t think it was a good idea. You had sighed and fluttered your eyelashes and draped yourself around him and knit your fingers together and then kissed along his jaw and sucked on his ears. He flushed now, letting out an impatient huff at how impossible it was to say no to you when you did that. 

But he had his reasons! You turned and laughed at something one of the nurses said, your hand resting on top of the large round swell of your belly. He noticed the way you alternated leaning against the table and swaying, meaning either your hips or your feet were hurting. Your lower back must be too from standing all day; he saw your back arch outwards for a moment as you tried to stretch. You had cried just the other day because you couldn’t actually stretch your back the way you wanted, but if he pressed his knuckles along your spine it felt good. You needed that right now, he sensed it. He was always trying to sense the things you needed, watching you closely, trying to take care of you because he’d done this to you after all. He thought you still hadn’t been quite sure about a baby but you were doing this for him. 

And also for a nurse you were remarkably bad at taking care of yourself.

He decided without seeing them that you ankles were swollen enough and he needed to drag you out of there, so he gathered all your things and marched over, only to shy away from the pairs of eyes that all immediately shifted to him.

“Y/N, let’s go rest,” he mumbled at your shoulder.

“Just a few more minutes.”

“You said that two hours ago…”

“I know,” you said, turning and pressing your hand to his chest. “I’m sorry, I know you’re bored. Just a few more minutes, I swear.”

He sighed. But you smiled at him. And from here your ankles didn’t look too bad yet.

“Drink more water,” he said, handing you the water bottle you’d set on the table. He hauled your things back to the round table and dumped them down but didn’t sit this time. Instead he remained standing, so you could have the reminder that you had said you would go soon. 

He crossed his arms.

He paced. 

He leaned against the back of a chair when a few minutes bled into more. Two more people had joined you. And now he was getting hungry too, which he knew meant you were probably hungry too and too busy talking work stuff to realize it. Time to use his own powers of persuasion.

Once again he grabbed your bags up and approached, this time pressing up close against you back. You mindlessly lifted your fingers over your shoulder to touch his neck, a soft gesture that meant hi, I see you. He loved that gesture. He loved you, his infuriating woman who didn’t pay attention to your own limits.

“Y/N,” he whined quietly at the back of your head. The impatient huffs and whimpers were quiet, though probably not so quiet your colleagues couldn’t hear. He didn’t care right now. They’d think your whiny pup was dragging you away and though he hated that, it was the price he’d pay to get you upstairs to your room so you could put your feet up.

“Ok ok,” you said. To you colleagues, you explained, “My husband is telling me it’s time to go. I’ve dragged him around for three days now and I think we’ve hit the limit.”

“You need to rest,” he defended. My husband. The label flustered him as five pairs of eyes looked at him. He could read the surprise and curiosity on their faces. Husband? A hybrid? Nurse Y/N actually married a hybrid?

No, not actually. It wasn’t legal in Korea --or in most places, for that matter. But you had still had a ceremony last year when your grandparents had visited Marigold in the spring, donning traditional Korean clothing and standing underneath an arch on the dock Jungkook had built years ago. It was small and simple. His parents had come up for it too, to finally meet your grandparents. You had actually been calling him your husband to people for at least a year by that point, making a point of it after several unsurprising and hurtful assumptions about the nature of your relationship from outsiders. So you’d had your meaningful little ceremony, and he’d been more affected by it than he anticipated; he had not expected to be so touched when you legally changed your last name as your application for Korean citizenship was accepted, just one more way to connect you in a country that wouldn’t legally allow it.

You turned towards him, your belly pressing into his side as the others around the circle shook his hand and tried to hide any shock from their faces. Not only were you “married” to a hybrid, but of course they’d now wonder about that baby in your belly.

“Yes, it’s mine,” he said, though no one had asked. He knew they were wondering and he wanted them to know.

You immediately laughed and patted his chest, “Yes, it is, and you’re trying to make me take it easy, I know. So we’d better go. It’s been nice seeing you all; you’ve got my contact info. We fly home tomorrow but let’s keep in touch!” Your pat embarrassed him, or rather made him embarrassed by his own possessiveness of your. Human husbands probably didn’t announce that the baby in their (not legally) wife was theirs. But people didn’t doubt a human husband the way they would a hybrid not-real husband.

Your room was on a higher floor in the hotel. The silence of the elevator turned the noise of the conference into a tingly buzz still lingering in Jungkook’s ears, but by the time he closed the door of the hotel room, he could relax into the comfort of silence. Years ago, it had been the shift from a crowded arena during a fight to the quieter victor’s suite, where he’d get patched up, maybe given a girl to fuck, and then tossed into the kennels to collapse with the other exhausted survivors. Words couldn’t describe how much he preferred this routine: lining up your shoes by the door, listening to you putter around in the bathroom, then dragging you down onto the bed and pulling you feet into his lap. They were damp.

“You-- you don’t have to… do that,” you tried to protest, despite obviously just rinsing them off, either hopeful or accepting he was going to do this. Also part of the ritual. All it took was one good press of thumbs up the arch of your feet to make you moan and give up the fight. What you liked the most though was just the squeezing of your heels. He squeezed so hard he expected it to hurt but you just whined and sighed. The noises always went right to his dick. It didn’t take much from you to get him going and seeing you laid back against the pillows, belly rounded with his pup, feet twitching in his grip… well, it was enough. 

He wanted to rub your feet longer, but now his gaze kept sliding up to your belly until he couldn’t resist any longer. His hands followed, one flattening and tracing the curve.

“Baby is good,” you told him, answering his unasked question. He grinned as he stretched out beside you but a little lower, so his hand could continue to press. “Here,” you took his hand and pressed it low, where he could feel it, the irregular thump against his hand.

“Foot?” he asked.

“I sure hope so,” you snickered, “Or that baby is coming out with biceps as big as yours.” You squeezed his arm and he let you, amused at the way you so casually caressed each other's bodies. He kept his hand there, letting his son kick his palm.

“He’s strong,” he mused, only to flinch and quickly cover, “Do you think the baby will sleep now?”

“No, it slept the whole conference. I felt like I was stroking its head while we were down there,” you said, a contented smile on your face. He let out a sigh of relief that you hadn’t noticed his slip. 

Jungkook was certain you were carrying his son. It wasn’t that he preferred a son, but that was certainly going to be easier, seeing as he was a boy. He didn’t necessarily hope the baby was much like himself but he knew what it was like to be a little boy, and that had soothed some of his worries about fatherhood. Bitna was the only girl he’d grown up with and she wasn’t a very normal girl, so he’d be lost with a daughter. But he’d just sensed early on that the baby was a boy, and so hadn’t minded when you suggested not learning the baby’s sex until it was born because what did it matter?

It didn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things. It didn’t, Jungkook had assured you when he’d first started insisting it was a boy and you had broken down in tears. He’d never forget you sobbing with disappointment in him, “Are you really one of those traditionalist men who only cares about a son?” No! No, he wasn’t! He just happened to think a son would be easier and happened to believe this baby was a son! To soothe you, he’d enthusiastically agreed not to find out the baby’s sex, agreeing it didn’t matter, secretly knowing he was going to be right.

And it didn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things. It didn’t, Jungkook had reminded himself when the technicians didn’t disclose the baby’s sex. It wasn’t that he’d maybe wanted to know to reassure himself he wasn’t having a daughter, (moot, since his gut said it was a boy) but because he was just desperate to know anything at all. 

He stroked the spot on your belly the baby had been kicking. There was another hard kick that made you grunt, followed by a louder grunt.

“Oof, it’s moving.”

Jungkook dragged your flowy shirt up, watching the ridge of the baby’s back he could see as it shuffled and twisted inside. You could always feel when the baby moved like that. You could feel when the baby got hiccups or was sleeping. You could feel when the baby got startled by a loud sound around you or when it grew still listening to the soothing music Jungkook played at home every day while he painted. He knew you also had the aches and pains and cramps and heartburn and swollen ankles and back aches. 

But you got to experience this, the baby was already so real to you that he’d catch you mumbling to it sometimes, or tapping your fingers against your belly when the baby’s head or butt pressed against it in silent communication, or rocking in the glider you bought on recommendation from Taehyung and Yejin --who had just had their third and, according to Yejin, absolute final. 

Jungkook was on the outside of it. He went to almost every doctor’s appointment, trading shifts at the restaurant where he still worked to clear his schedule. He painted the nursery, he built the furniture, he took the best damn care of you he could. But he still had to wait to meet the baby in a way you didn’t, and he just wanted to know something about this baby, who was going to change your lives “in ways you can’t even imagine yet,” according to his mother. All he had to go on so far was that he thought the baby was a boy.

But he kept that to himself, tracing his finger over the bulge of a head or a butt pressed just above your belly button. Your fingers wound into his hair, scratching his scalp, sending goosebumps shooting across his arms. When he glanced at your face though, your eyes were closed, your expression peaceful for a brief moment.

“You’re tired, jagi,” he murmured and kissed your belly. 

“I won’t admit it.”

“Admit it,” he teased.

“Never.”

You didn’t even complain enough to him, he didn’t think. He wouldn’t have minded. Listening to you narrate every minor ache and pain could have given him a greater window into your experience. Listening was the part he could do.

“You don’t stop for anything,” he said. “But now you have to. We came to the conference. Now we’ll go home and you promised.”

“I know, I promised. We’ll go home and I’ll take it easy.”

He heard the extra something in your voice and knew not to push further. The sadness crept in, like it sometimes still did, even though this baby was healthy and growing well. The timing of the wedding and name change had also been an emotional reset. After two years of trying before you actually got pregnant, only for the first pregnancy to end in an early miscarriage, you’d both whispered doubts to each other in the dark whether a child could actually be in your future. Now you had a healthy growing baby in your belly but still there had been minor disagreements when you thought he coddled or he thought you pushed yourself too far. Would he have packed you up in bubble wrap for the whole pregnancy if he could, like you’d accused him of? Well… maybe.

But this you had agreed on. This conference was the last thing you would leave Marigold for. Now you would go home and be gentle with yourself and let him pamper you until the time came that Jungkook could finally meet his son.

You were still scratching his scalp as he murmured, “I love you.” It still felt bold to say it sometimes, but he was determined to say it every day. This baby would take being loved for granted, it would hear about it so much. No matter what happened, this baby would always know it had a father who loved him.

“I love you too,” you returned, rolling onto your side towards him.

“Yes, and I love you too,” Jungkook conceded.

“You didn’t mean me?” you pouted, a smile in your voice.

“I love you both,” Jungkook said and kissed you before settling on the pillows, your belly cradled between you.

Damn, he was ready to go home. This conference had been really fucking boring.

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

You sat on the living room sofa in the main house, staring at the ground, sulking. They’d called Jungkook. They might as well have called your dad, for all the gravity the call was made with and for all the pleading not to and for all the dread you had about the consequences. Jungkook was going to be unhappy with you. 

Sure enough, you could recognize his steps as the front door swung open, and his serious stare met you a moment later. You tried to return his stare, but then closed your eyes and slumped backwards on the couch, clasping your hands on top of your stomach. He sat beside you on the couch.

“She completely fainted,” Jimin tattled, appearing with a second cool cloth to drape across your forehead. The one Dale had given you was already around you neck, making you shirt uncomfortably wet. Eunju had lifted your feet onto the coffee table and brought you juice and crackers. 

“Hit the ground?” Jungkook asked, eyes wide with concern but brow somehow still lowered. 

You were the one to quickly say, “No, I barely fainted and Namjoon caught me--”

“I caught her,” Namjoon agreed, striding in. He set a glass of ice water on the table as well. “She smelled a little strange--”

“Probably just a sugar crash,” you quickly clarified. “Nothing more serious. You always smell people when they sugar crash. I just went a little too long before lunch. I was just about to stop and eat--”

“You said that like an hour ago, babe,” Maya called. Everyone was circling, bustling in and out of the room. You hated the coddling. You hated the attention. You hated that they had called Jungkook for something this trivial --you were a nurse! You knew it was just a small dizzy spell! 

Jungkook just studied your face for a moment, taking in all the information from these fucking snitches, before touching your shoulder and asking, “You want to rest here? Or should I take you home?”

“Take me home,” you quickly answered. “These mother hens are driving me crazy. I’m fine!”

“Well when our nurse is still working at thirty-eight weeks pregnant and faints, we get a little antsy,” Jimin scoffed. “Complain all you want!”

“How do you even remember the weeks? Do you have my due date penciled in--”

“We all do! It’s right on the calendar in the kitchen! When that baby comes and you stay home to recover, we can all finally let out a sigh of relief,” Maya teased. She stopped behind the couch and pressed her hands to your shoulders. 

“I’m pregnant, not made of rice paper. Women run marathons pregnant.”

“Not this woman,” Dale beamed at you. “So sorry you aren’t Superwoman this time, must be hard for your ego. Now Let Jungkook take you home, get some rest. And Y/N… You don’t have to wait until you’re literally pushing a baby out of your body. Take time off as soon as you need it.”

“I don’t. I just went a little too hard, that’s all,” you grumbled. You held your hand out for Jungkook to take, not amused when he adjusted the damp towels so they would come along for the ride. He helped you to the front door, and held you steady while you stepped into your flats --the big comfortable ugly ones that were the only thing that fit your larger feet right now. Once you were on the porch, he considered asking to carry you down, you could see the thought on his face. But apparently the scowl on your face worked, and he just helped you down and into the car.

It was a quiet ride home, though fortunately not a long one. You could smell the paint from the nursery, making it obvious how he’d spent his afternoon; as soon as you were deposited on the sofa, he ran to open the nursery windows and shut the door so it could air out without letting all the heat out of the house. He disappeared into the kitchen next, returning with an assortment of snacks to display before you on the coffee table a moment later. He brought you a blanket and a pillow and then pulled you feet onto his lap to roll the compression socks down.

“Don’t,” you complained because it felt like too much right now. He was being too sweet and he hadn’t scolded you yet, but you knew it was coming. you could see it on his face, held down by his furrowed eyebrows. “Just… say it and get it over with.”

“If you aren’t going to take care for your own sake, at least do it for the baby.”

You closed your eyes and looked away. That hurt more than you had expected. You felt a painful bubble in your chest at the words.

“I’m not endangering the baby,” you mumbled, gaze shifting to your hands in your lap. “I hate that you think that. You already think I’m a bad mother.”

“Huh?” The shift in his voice was immediate. “I don’t think that. I just meant…” He trailed off; you could feel his careful study. But the painful lump in your throat lingered and you knew if you looked at him you might cry.

“I’m not being reckless. My health is good. I’m taking breaks. I’m just not ready to stop working yet and sit around twiddling my thumbs--”

“You have to slow down.”

“If I slow down any more I’ll just be a potted plant!” you argued. “I didn’t forget to eat, I just wasn’t hungry yet because the heartburn has ruined my appetite. That’s normal! There’s no space for my stomach with the baby in there and it hasn’t dropped yet so--”

“So little meals, you said. You need snacks. You need to stop and rest.”

“I eat snacks but it just happened. I was just dizzy; I probably stood up too fast but everything is fine and I need you to stop acting like I’m just being selfish.”

“You should stop working and stay home and rest.”

“These are my last weeks to get to be Nurse Y/N before I’m just Mom,” you snapped. “Don’t take that away from me. I’m fine. Please trust that I love this baby too and I am not doing anything to endanger it. I knew you’d overreact; they shouldn’t have bothered calling you--”

“Y/N.”

You both lapsed into silence, staring in opposite directions. You were trying not to cry but the exhaustion and the frustration were building. 

“The only thing I can do to help the baby right now is take care of you,” he finally said. “You have to let me do that.”

“I am. But you have to trust me when I say I’m fine.”

“Fainting isn’t fine.”

“They exaggerated because they’re worried.” His sigh revealed what he thought of that answer. “I’m fine. I’ll eat more frequent small snacks and be fine. Please, just… please.” You didn’t know specifically what you were asking for. More trust. Less scolding. More compassion. Less guilt. 

Less guilt was really the thing you needed most. You had been prepared for the physical changes --more or less, anyway. As a nurse, you had taken care of plenty of pregnant women. Sure, going through them was a step beyond but still, you could identify symptoms and normal changes and causes for concern like a textbook. That was comforting.

What you had not been prepared for was the guilt. The fears. The mental and emotional worries that plagued your dreams and your waking both. The bigger you got, the more the world revolved around the baby growing in your belly, but you couldn’t help the small voice in your head crying but what about me? Don’t I still matter? You had made plenty of adjustments and sacrifices as needed to make sure the baby was happy and healthy and growing in there --you’d eliminated certain foods and coffees, just to be safe; you went to bed on time; you napped; you didn’t go visit your grandparents because of the risk of Zika; and so on and so on. Yes, you felt sad about those sacrifices sometimes. Wasn’t that allowed? Or did that mean you were already a terrible mother? You had plenty of people ask why you were still working this late in your pregnancy but it was because you could! You were healthy! The pregnancy was going well this time! And soon you would be home with the new baby for at least six months, maybe longer, and what would that even look like for you? You had been miserable when not working before. Who would you be when you were nothing but this baby’s mother for a while, possibly a long while? Could you be happy like that? Were you already failing for being worried about such selfish things, for still thinking about a career and a life that didn’t revolve solely around your child? Was it because Jungkook had wanted to have a baby more than you had? Were you doomed to be an unloving, terrible mother from the start because he was the one who’d wanted this first, and this was just proof of that? But you did want this baby! You had agreed to this, to the heartbreak of trying again after that first loss, because you wanted this too! Couldn’t you want both?

“Y/N,” he said, hand sliding across your back. You turned into his shoulder and finally couldn’t withhold the tears any longer. They streamed onto his shirt, soaking the fabric as you sobbed. He held you, but the position was awkward with your belly taking up so much space in between. He wound up dragging you onto his lap, tangling your bodies together the way puppies did, piling on each other to comfort or be comforted.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry. I know everything is harder for you right now. I can’t make anything easier. I’m just trying to take care of you. You work so hard all the time and I just want you to know that it’s ok for growing a baby to be enough.”

It wasn’t like him to stream out words like that; he must feel really bad and that soothed you too, reminding you that he didn’t know what the fuck they were doing either. 

“I don’t think I’m very good at being pregnant,” you admitted, pressing your face to his neck. 

“You are growing a healthy baby so you are very good at being pregnant. You are just not good at slowing down.”

“I don’t want to slow down,” you argued. “I listen to my body; I stop when I have to. But when I feel fine… Everything is changing and I’m trying not to complain or fuss but--”

“Complain to me, jagi! I’m your mate!”

“Yeah, but…”

He pressed his nose to your temple, rubbing, then nipped your nose and said gently, “I want to hear. I want to know. I don’t know anything. I can learn from you.”

“I don’t know anything either, Jungkook. I mean, I know about gestation and healthy baby size and pregnancy food needs. But I don’t know how to… how to become a mother, at least not a good one.”

“You’re a good mother already.”

“I’m not. I can’t be. I love this baby and I want this baby but everyone is saying I need to stop working, stop going places, stop doing things. Everything needs to be about the baby. So am I supposed to just stop existing except as a mother? I don’t know how to blend those things! And I want to work, I need to work, because I’m good at it but I’m not good at a having a baby like this and then at least if I fail as a mother, maybe I can make the baby proud as a nurse.”

This said, you leaned heavily against his shoulder again, a hollow ache where the words were no longer bricked up inside you.

After a while, Jungkook sighed, “I don’t know anything about it either. You know a lot about babies and I don’t know anything. But I think we’re going to be a happy family. I know it. We’ll do our best and love each other and I think that’s enough. All I ever wanted was to know my parents loved me.”

“I don’t know if my parents loved me,” you admitted, “I guess they did. But I don’t think they liked me very much.”

“I think we’ll like our baby.”

“I think so too,” you readily agreed. “It’s just that… everything is about to change. I’m so excited to meet this baby but I’m so fucking scared of getting this baby out,” you admitted with a small laugh. “And then… then what?”

He let out a deep breath and admitted, “I didn’t know you were scared about it too.”

“Of course I’m scared about it. You are?”

“Yeah.”

“You just act so… confident about everything. You take such good care of me and you remember everything and you’ve worked so hard on the nursery. You wanted this baby so bad, you were ready. I mean, I want it too! It’s just that the closer we get, the more I worry, am I really ready? What if I lose myself? I just become someone’s mom, nothing more… what if that’s not enough for me?”

“You will always be more than that,” he corrected. “Our baby has a busy mother. That’s ok. We said that. When you want to go back to work, if we need someone home with the baby still, I can do it. Why does it have to be the mom who stays home?” You had said that, as you’d imagined the many different ways your future could look. You didn’t know if Jungkook had been serious about that, about his willingness to stay home. You didn’t think you could bear the guilt of leaving your baby home, failing as a mother like that --you were supposed to want to stay home, weren’t you? And maybe you would want that! And maybe he wouldn’t want to! You couldn’t say because you just didn’t know what to expect!

“How can you say you’re scared when you sound so certain about everything?” you sighed enviously.

“I know we will figure it out. I can do anything with you in my corner and I’m in your corner so… we’ll be good.”

“Really? A boxing reference?”

You felt his smile as he kissed your jaw and shifted on the couch so he could drag the blanket over you both.

“Yes,” he said. “I know more about boxing than about babies but I will work harder at this than anything in my life. Together we’ll make it work. Not everything will change.”

“Are you going to say we’ll still have each other?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. His fingers were softly stroking your jaw. “I worry about things too. You’ll love the baby and forget about me…”

“I won’t,” you gasped, leaning away and staring into his face. “You’re my love, my mate, my partner. The baby won’t replace you!” He did not actually look too worried about it though.

“A little bit in the beginning. Taehyung talks to me about it. But I know you love me and you need me and it’s like that for me and we are two strong people, we can handle a baby,” he grinned. “A baby is little. We can win.” It made you smile, even laugh a little.

“Yeah, what’s one small baby against us, huh?” You leaned back against his shoulder and clung to his faith in you as a mother, his confidence you could figure this out. You wanted to be as certain, but you were still scared. What if you were wildly inept? What if the baby didn’t like you, or you struggled to love it, or you grew bitter about the career sacrifices that would have to happen to make sure the child came first as it deserved? What if you didn’t like being home with it? What if --as you had once feared-- mothering just wasn’t a thing that came naturally to you? Anytime you had hinted at that fear with Yejin or Helene or your grandmother, they’d laughed: you are full of love; you don’t have to be exactly like any other mother, but you are going to be a wonderful mother to your own wonderful baby because you have been a healing mother to so many people already. 

“You’re going to be such a wonderful father, Jungkook. You are strong and soft and wonderful in all the right ways.”

“Everything I know I learned from you,” he prodded. 

“That’s not true, but thank you.” You kissed the warm side of his neck. “Now what can you tell me to make me feel better about the pain of childbirth?”

“You are the strongest woman I know--”

“No no, that doesn’t work.”

“Drugs,” he said. “Lots of drugs. Epidural, yeah? Yeah.”

“We’ll see, I don’t know… I just don’t know anything, Jungkook.”

“You know a lot, Y/N. You just care a lot too.”

“I do care a lot.”

“I know. So it’s ok.” He rubbed his nose against yours and nipped again, kissed down your cheek and nipped your jaw. It was crazy how used to this form of comfort you had become over the years; you craved it when you were stressed or upset. You let your head fall back so he could nip along your neck. The mental image came again, of Jungkook nuzzling and cuddling your baby like this, you draped around them. It was the thought that had finally changed your mind on having a baby, too, the certainty that Jungkook was going to be a very, very good father, and that you would do your best to keep up. 

You sighed, going limp in his arms, until he finally ran his nose up to your ear.

“Sleepy jagiya,” he murmured. 

“Mm-hm.”

“I’ll carry you to bed?”

“Mm-hm, ok,” you conceded, knowing he took great pride in still lifting you with the additional weight. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you to the bedroom. “Wait, are you almost finished with the nursery? I want to see.”

“Later. Rest first. The nursery will still be there.”

“But you’re working so hard on it--”

“You are working even harder,” he argued. “Now you need to rest.”

“Do you think that tone will work with our child?”

“I sure hope so.”

“Me too,” you laughed, and let it work with you now, especially since he let you pull him down to the bed to nap with him. Tangled in his arms and legs, you felt better. Almost like you could do this, at least if you had him by your side, and all your friends who had overreacted today because they cared. Maybe, if you tried really hard, this could all be enough for the baby.

“Everyone just wants to be loved,” you whispered to yourself.

“You overflow with love,” Jungkook whispered back. “It’s not a concern.” He sounded so serious about it, so certain. It was the last reassurance you needed to curl up on your side, pillow stuffed between your knees to cushion your joints, and fall asleep.

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

Damn. Damn he had been an idiot. Jungkook sat in the chair beside your  hospital bed, the plastic tub with your baby inside boxing him in, and stared at the wall. 

Damn, he had gotten everything so very wrong.

He was in shock. He knew that. He remembered the feeling of getting dragged from a fire and tossed into a cold pool, the way your skin tingled and your lungs burned and your eyes ached to close for a while, the way you were sweaty and cold at the same time. 

Had it all really happened? Really?

He glanced at the bassinet and couldn’t believe it was a real baby inside. He ought to be holding it but it was asleep and he didn’t want to disturb it, even though you had begged him to hold it while you slept, afraid it would feel cold and lonely. Your faith in him had been astonishing; seeing how much strength you took from him was incredible and he felt completely insufficient for it. What good had he been? No good, not good for a single fucking thing!

Sure, he’d held your arm as you paced through your contractions. He’d held your hips and pushed into your lower back as you had used the baby crib he’d built to help you sway through the worst of the pain. It had made him sick to see you in pain but he’d bitten that back and done his best to walk you through every survival method he knew.

Sure, he’d maintained his calm as he drove you to the hospital, and held your hand through checking in, and only snapped a little when the nurses were taking too long getting you into a room. He’d been calm and thorough about attending to your every need, desperate to do anything when it seemed like his options to help you were limited. This is normal, the nurse had assured you. Just a few hours and then you’ll have your baby.

But the hours dragged on. And on. And on. Your pain broke him, froze him, re-animated him. The nurses didn’t like him, he knew that, because he didn’t have any patience for their glacial pace when you needed something. He didn’t like how they could be chatting and laughing and happy while checking your’s and the baby’s vitals, not when you would curl forward, trying to escape the contractions. Pain was inescapable, and having to watch you go through it… it was too much. He had not been prepared for how terrible it would be. He’d been so focused on the baby and taking care of you throughout your pregnancy that he hadn’t worried enough about this part. He’d trusted too much the idea that women did this all the time. It had left him unprepared for the gut-wrenching agony of watching you suffer.

And then things got worse. The baby wasn’t moving. Your water had broken too long ago and you were starting to get a fever and the baby was being stubborn. Oh no, he’s going to be like me, Jungkook had fretted, long past rational thought at this point. He’d stood dumbly by as the nurses and doctor and you had discussed, as they’d tried to ask him his opinion, as he’d only nodded and motioned to whatever you said without understanding what was happening because internally he was panicking and this time you couldn’t soothe him through it.

Sure, he’d walked behind the gurney as they’d carted you down to surgery. He’d put on the gown and mask and papery hat and stood by your head, where the nurses nudged him. He’d held your hand, unable to look away from the exhaustion and fear on your face as they raised a curtain to perform the surgery out of your view. Surgery. Real surgery. He’d seen into your body as the doctors lifted a baby out of you.  You had cried as the baby screamed and he just stared, too slow and unresponsive to even cut the cord. He had expected to immediately recognize the baby’s scream, but it was just a noise, not even a very concerning one at the moment. He’d watched you nuzzle the baby under your chin, a swollen, red, angry baby that looked nothing like he’d imagined other than the dark hair like his own. He’d even touched your face to reassure you, pulled your gown back into place where it had been knocked around in the chaos; but even that had been wrong, you’d been trying to unsnap it so you could hold the baby against the warm skin of your chest. You already knew what to do with your upset child. The baby had drawn his attention less than the long line of stitches being sewn into your lower belly; you would have a big scar, a reminder of what he’d watched you endure.

Things were blurry after that. You were drugged in a way that scared him, but your attention was so focused on the baby that his fear didn’t matter right now much anyway. You were taken to a recovery room, the baby was looked at, everyone was said to be healthy and fine. Jungkook had called some people, his parents, your grandparents, Jimin. He hadn’t been able to tell them much except that everything was apparently fine, confused when they asked if he was all right and if you had named the baby yet.

The baby twitched in its cubby. He peeked down, but the baby settled back to sleep so he didn’t touch it. When he leaned back in his chair, he read the card on the side again: Baby Girl Jeon, DOB 2-24.

A girl! Even the baby had turned out different than his expectations for what “becoming parents” would go like. A girl…

He stared at the wall and wished he could fall asleep but knew it wouldn’t come. He felt like he’d been through the worst fight of his career. He felt like he’d been through a war. In reality, he felt nothing, just sat there shocked about it all and wondering how he could be so useless and how his expectations had been so fucking wrong.

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

He must have drifted off again without realizing it, because noise in the room woke him. He was embarrassed to find he’d failed even as a guard; two nurses were helping you sit up while a third finished changing the baby’s tiny diaper. This kept happening. He was trying his best to stay awake, so he could be on hand to get anything you needed --ice, water, applejuice, more blankets, more pillows, move the pillows, turn on the TV, turn off the TV. The pain from your incision definitely was worse the next day, and they took your catheter out but you needed help walking to the bathroom. You were slow and fragile-seeming and it terrified him, and so he wanted to be always on hand to help you.

But once again he’d fallen asleep in that uncomfortable chair, tricked into it by his own tired brain. 

Quickly he sat up, leaning close on the edge of the bed, but you didn’t seem upset with him about sleeping. You scratched his jaw and smiled at him, then held your arms out as the nurse lowered the baby into them. Whatever pain or lingering trauma you must have from giving birth in that manner, you seemed utterly distracted from it whenever the baby was near.

“Isn’t she perfect?” you whispered. He watched you stroke the baby’s downy black ears, still paperthin and folded up, just barely poking out of the shock of dark hair. The baby looked up at you with dark eyes beneath a heavy brow; very much like the baby pictures Jungkook’s mother had texted you to compare earlier this morning. He worried the baby might have his nose too, and how would that look on a little girl? 

“Well I think she is,” you cooed, making him realize he hadn’t answered yet.

“She’s small,” he said. No, that wasn’t good enough. “She…”

“Are you disappointed?”

“Huh?”

“I know you wanted a boy,” you said. He didn’t have to see your face to hear the threat of tears.

“No,” he said quickly. “I’m not disappointed. I’m just… surprised.” He leaned down on the bed beside you, watching the baby, trying to feel that connection he had hoped would come immediately. Even seeing his own image reflected back at him in tiny ways didn’t make him look at this infant and know anything more about it than he had when it was still tucked away in your stomach. Logically he knew the baby would grow and get more personality and someday be walking and talking like Taehyung’s kids but… He realized you were watching him stare at the baby, so he added, “I don’t know anything about little girls.”

“You don’t know what a little boy would have been like either,” you argued, the same argument you’d had while pregnant. “A girl could still like cars and fighting and--”

“I don’t want anyone to like fighting.”

“--And a boy might have liked dolls and tea parties.”

“I know that,” he insisted. “It’s not important, Y/N. I’m not disappointed.”

“You can’t be disappointed. She’s perfect.” You hooked your finger into a tiny fist. The baby smacked its lips and wriggled in its blanket, curling closer to your chest and nodding off. Apparently eating and a diaper change had been too much excitement and worn it out. 

“I’m not disappointed,” he insisted again. “Are you?”

“No. What? Why would I be disappointed?”

“Ears. Tail.”

“Yes, my daughter is a hybrid, so? So is my mate”

Jungkook nodded but secretly didn’t believe you. You were drugged and tired and not thinking about it because you couldn’t actually be that oblivious. With a human mother, the baby would qualify for human citizenship, but with hybrid features, it would face the same barriers Jungkook did. Even though you had spent your life working with hybrids, you could still move fluidly between the worlds. You didn’t understand. He had hoped his child would be spared this; some mixed children didn’t even have the ears of their hybrid parent, apparently the most dominant of hybrid features. He had hoped his child would just be a boy copy of you. That would have been the best, easiest future. This child… he just didn’t know how he was possibly supposed to protect it. He’d barely managed to protect you for the last nine months.

“I know I don’t know what it’s like to be a hybrid,” you said, once again making Jungkook suspect you had secret mind-reading abilities. “And I wouldn’t wish any struggles on my own child. But I’ve spent my life trying to make this world a better place for hybrids, and now I’ll keep fighting that fight to make it a better place for our daughter. We’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe and happy and healthy. She’s beautiful and I wouldn’t change a thing about her, certainly not to make her look less like my handsome mate.”

He pressed his face to your arm, only to be stunned when you added, “Please don’t scent me though until you’re willing to scent her too.”

“What?”

“You haven’t yet.”

“She’s so small,” he defended.

“Ok. But usually hybrids scent their babies right away--”

“You aren’t a hybrid, don’t lecture me.”

You went silent. He cringed. You nodded and he could feel the weight of your swallow, the way you bit back tears.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to your arm. But you had said not to scent you, so he didn’t. He should scent the baby instead but he’d said the truth. It was so small. A boy baby would have been bigger, right? Sturdier? The boy baby he’d seen in his head was bigger.

He wasn’t soothed by your answer, “I know.” It felt like there was a but in there. But… you aren’t being the partner I need. But… you aren’t being a good father. But… you don’t belong here in this human hospital. But… it’s your fault I had to go through all this pain. But… it’s your fault our baby has dog ears and a dog tail and will never look just like every other little girl. 

“Can I get you anything?” he asked. It was lame, a lame attempt to still be useful to you.

“My stitches are hurting pretty bad,” you admitted. “Can you ask the nurse when I can have more pain medicine?” 

That he could do. He rose swiftly and headed for the door, but paused and looked back. He watched you stroke the little head one more time and kiss it, then gently tug a yellow hat down over the tiny head. He heard your sniffle from the door. You thought he hated the baby. He didn’t hate it! He just didn’t know it!

Fuck. He was failing. He’d been a father for less than forty-eight hours and already he was failing.

In his panic, he forgot about the medication. He blanked on it completely, he got distracted by his own frustrations, and he left the hospital to go for a jog to clear his mind. He’d come back a new man, he would! He psyched himself up about all the things he’d do better when he got back from his jog. He’d change diapers! He’d have the nurse show him again how to swaddle! He’d start writing down your medication times so he could keep it up when you went home and there wasn’t another nurse there doing it for you-- fuck, your medication!

He turned and jogged back to the hospital, determined for a better round two.

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

The hospital had not let you stay long. Three days didn’t feel like long enough, and Jungkook had tried to argue with the doctor about it, but you already knew the lines the doctor responded with. You were healthy and your sutures were healing nicely. The baby was healthy and even eating nicely. You were a nurse, living in a sanctuary with other medical staff nearby. Jungkook was even suddenly being more helpful! He hadn’t scented you daughter yet, but he was changing diapers now, doing his best to swaddle the baby in a blanket, and even watched over her closely when you slept. You would wake that final day and night to see him staring down at the baby, or even reaching out a finger to touch her little cheek, and while it wasn’t scenting, it looked more like acceptance.

So there was no reason to stay longer in the hospital other than your own fear over the reality that you and Jungkook were actually parents now, parents with a baby to take care of, with the added complication that you were recovering from more of a surgery than you had expected. Of course you had known there was a risk of Cesarean. You had wanted to avoid it, to avoid the additional healing process. But by the time the doctor decided it was time, you’d had no fight left in you and had known it was the right call, for your baby’s safety and your own. 

But it didn’t mean you were ready to look at the steri-strips and long scar any more than you had to right now. Your saggy tummy, your painfully swollen breasts and aching nipples and the constant sense you were peeing yourself, none of mattered right now because your body had worked hard and deserved some love and patience. The birth already felt like a dream, except for that damn incision. Besides, you had a beautiful baby who needed you right now.

All of you. Mi-Cha never didn’t need you. If Mi-cha wasn’t on you in some way, she was screaming. Awake? Needs to be held against your heart or tucked under your chin. Asleep? Needs to be held against your heart or tucked under your chin. She might allow you to lay down in bed with her and sleep with Mi-Cha curled up in your armpit, but you were terrified of rolling over and crushing her, which meant Jungkook had to sit there and supervise. 

Poor Jungkook. Poor yourself too, sure, you were exhausted beyond all exhaustion, but at least there was something sweet about the baby clinging so desperately to you. Jungkook tried to be present and helpful and give you a break and it only ever led to screaming, and those little newborn shrieks inevitably led to you bursting into your own frantic tears. Every time he offered to take the baby so you could try to sleep, you could see him bracing himself for the unfailing shrieks. You certainly couldn’t fall asleep like that, but you could shower or quickly eat something or at least change your clothes. Maybe your hygiene wasn’t the best but hey, newborn babies loved the scent of their mama, right?

It was no way to live though. It couldn’t last. After only three days of this, you were nearing a breakdown and you knew it and couldn’t see an end in sight. Jungkook’s parents wouldn’t be here until the end of the following week and they wouldn’t be wizards with a baby. Maya and Ana had both come by, called by you to check the baby and make sure you weren’t missing something wrong because you felt incompetent over how much your daughter cried. It wasn’t like Mi-Cha always just stopped immediately crying as soon as you held her, once she got going about your betrayal for setting her down, or because you failed to anticipate whatever she wanted but couldn’t communicate yet. She was fussy and demanding and beautiful but you felt like your little family was already failing. 

So on day three, it was back to the pediatrician for a second visit for another verification that nothing was wrong. Nope. Mi-Cha was gaining weight at a good clip. She responded properly to stimuli and didn’t react to any presses on her tummy or head or tail. Gas was suggested and you were given drops to coax into her and told to keep trying, sometimes babies just took time to settle into a routine. 

But at home it continued. Jungkook offered to help less, knowing it didn’t do any good, and probably because he was exhausted having his own child scream at him and reject him. It was particularly problematic since you were more convinced by the day that Jungkook hated the baby anyway. It wasn’t a boy. It looked like him. It had puppy ears and a tail and just wasn’t what he meant when he said he wanted a baby. Frankly, his rejection hurt you too, after you worked so long and hard to make this baby. It drove a wedge between you. It had only been four days but it felt like a week had passed and you couldn’t help but feel like your lives had been ruined.

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

“Mi-Cha,” you sang, badly because you were exhausted and had no energy or mental stamina to carry a tune. “Mi-cha, Mi-cha, sweetest lovely Mi-Cha, take a little nap so your mommy can do it too.” You cradled the baby in the crook of your elbow as you tried to unwrap a granola bar because heaven forbid you put Mi-Cha down for a moment. Your hands were shaking at your daughter’s angry shouts regardless, but you thought if you could just eat something you would get a second wind. Or, well, a fiftieth wind. A hundredth wind?

Jungkook watched you from the doorway, reading all of these things, but not sure how to help. His feelings of helplessness had only grown since coming home, watching you get dragged further under the demands of a newborn. You were both exhausted, but he knew you were carrying more of the weight right now and he didn’t know what to do. Belatedly, he realized he could at least open the fucking granola bar for you and dove forward. But Mi-Cha was already angry she’d been held wrong for too long, so by the time he handed the granola bar over, you were crying quietly beneath Mi-Cha’s wail. He held the granola bar up, trying to give you an encouraging smile and knowing he failed.

At that moment, your phone buzzed itself off the kitchen counter and landed perfectly on his foot. He cursed and grabbed it. His mother. Well, he could at least take care of that. He showed you the caller ID and wasn’t surprised by the way your expression sank. But he quickly grabbed the phone away and left the room, answering, making clear to you he would deal with it. His mother had been calling daily, trying to be helpful but adding stress already, even though she and Appa weren’t coming to visit until the end of next week.

“Eomeoni, hello,” he greeted, making sure she could hear the baby in the background before he closed himself into the bedroom. 

“Mi-Cha has strong lungs,” she mused.

“She has strong everything,” he sighed. “Strong lungs, strong demands, strong complaints.”

He could hear the amusement in her voice as she said, “Yes, yes, a new baby is difficult. You were hard for us, too, so hard. It takes me back. You sounded just like that. Do all babies sound like it? I don’t think so, I think I know she’s mine by her cry.” He slumped on the edge of the bed, closing his eyes. It was sweet that his parents were so excited about Mi-Cha. While he felt like there would always be a pebble in the shoe of their relationship, their instant love and adoration for the granddaughter they hadn’t even met yet had felt like a new layer of healing over old wounds. But right now, his mother’s sympathy didn’t solve the problem and he was so tired he could barely follow her.

“... so every day after lunch your father would come home from work early and take you so I could sleep for a few hours, and then he’d do it again at midnight. It was odd hours but you just wouldn’t accept anything else; even as a new baby, you had an idea of how the house was going to go!” It was interesting to hear that, seeing as his own memories of childhood didn’t recall his parents being pushovers to his whims. 

But something else caught him, and he asked, “Did Appa have any special tricks? Mi-Cha won’t let go of Y/N. She wants nothing to do with me. I know a mother is the most important but--”

“Appa!” she called, her voice loud through the phone as she forgot to pull away. Jungkook flinched. “Appa! Talk to your son, he wants to know a father thing. I don’t know what you did to Gukka so he’d be quiet with you when he was a-- yes, talk to him.”

The phone changed hands and Jungkook rubbed his forehead as Appa greeted him, asked about the baby, asked about you, and only then said, “Yes, ok, what is the question?”

“Eomeoni says when I was baby, you would take me so she could sleep. Y/N needs to sleep but Mi-Cha just screams all the time. How did you do it?”

“Oh, well, I… I didn’t do anything remarkable,” he said, sounding confused by it. “You were a good baby. We’d just do our thing, father and son.” Jungkook physically cringed, it hurt his stomach; he realized he hadn’t eaten in a while either. He needed to make something better for you both to eat than granola bars and cold noodles. 

“I don’t have a son,” he said, sharper than he would have meant on a normal day.

“Yeah, we didn’t use our dongles!” Appa laughed, loud and easy and relaxed. “What’s different? You can tell me. I kept you and your eomma scented well enough. I’d bundle you up in a little sash against my chest, and off we’d go!”

“Go where?” Jungkook asked, brow lowering. 

“Oh, we just walked. We walked and walked, it was nice,” Appa said. “We watched the leaves change and we’d walk to get fresh bread or rice cakes from the shops. You’d cook with me or sometimes we’d watch TV together if it rained…”

That was the thing. That was the thing Jungkook hadn’t tried yet. He’d been waiting until things felt better, until he felt a connection with Mi-Cha, until he felt like she wanted him to be near her, but now Appa had him wondering if he’d gotten the most obvious thing wrong. 

“I have to go, Appa,” he abruptly said. “Thank you. Tell Eomma thank you.” He hung up before anything else could delay and hoped his parents would understand.

He hurried to the nursery, where he could hear you mumbling to Mi-Cha through the closed door. You looked over from the window where you swayed with Mi-Cha under your chin when he flung the door open, and it struck him again how tired his poor love looked. 

“Go sleep, jagiya,” he said, striding forward. You gave him a crooked smile, certain he was joking. But he was determined to give it a solid effort and pressed his face to your neck.

“Gukka--”

“Shh, jagiya, I’ll scent her in a moment. Let her smell me on you first,” he murmured, nipping his way along your neck, rubbing his nose and chin. Even just that eased the tension in his shoulders he’d started to grow used to again; touching you so closely soothed him, like he too was a needy little baby unwillingly separated from warm, soft, wonderful you. Maybe you felt the same; you sighed and lifted your chin, the saddest little whimper coming from you he’d ever heard. He wrapped his arms around you, embracing Mi-Cha in between, something that usually made her cry but right now she stayed silent.

Because he could, he kissed your chin and your nose and your mouth, a real kiss, the first real one since Mi-Cha had been born. 

“We’ll try this,” he murmured. “Maybe it will work.”

“What will work?”

“I’ll take better care of my girls,” he said. Vague, but you didn’t protest as he dragged his mouth down the other side of your neck, and along your shoulders, and then lower, to the soft little head cradled against your chest. 

“You too, Mi-Cha,” he said gently, brushing his nose as carefully as could be against the back of her head. She smelled like fresh laundry and newness and warmth and some extra thing that was uniquely her, though tied to himself and you. He could recognize this baby anywhere already, he knew that; he could pick her clothing out of a pile, no problem; he could find her no matter how far she wandered once she was mobile.

But now he added his scent directly to her, strong, so there’d be no question about the slight thread of relation. He pressed it to the back of her head and her little shoulder and her arm and leg and her back. You twisted her the other way and he worked his way back up, even peppered little kisses against her face and hair because she wasn’t crying about him being so close. He felt affection blossom in his chest. She wasn’t asleep, but she just lay there quietly under this, as if it was something she wasn’t sure of but understood had to happen. Her wispy hair stuck out funny around her little ears, which had already gained some shape but now looked more like little cat ears. They’d grow fast, he knew, and soon flop like his had in his baby pictures. And probably someday, maybe after puberty, they’d grow a little more, get some more shape to them, and no one would ever cut or tear them. No one would ever touch her little tail, which suddenly brushed against his hand.

“Was that a wag?!” you gasped, noticing it too. “It can’t be! That milestone isn’t until like a month.”

“I don’t know if it was that,” he admitted, but grinned because he’d instantly thought so too, just a little tap like that. “Still, it means she’s strong… Let me try…” Your eyes went wide. You both held your breaths as Jungkook lifted Mi-Cha out of your hold and instead tucked her under his own chin. 

“Shhhh. Hello, Mi-Cha,” he said quietly. He froze, worried the rumble of his voice in his chest would set her off, but she didn’t make a peep.

“She’s still awake,” you said. “But…”

“But she’s not crying.”

“It worked!” you squealed. You pressed your hand to Mi-Cha’s back, adding your own soothing, “There you go, sweet girl. Appa has you now. See? You’re safe and happy with Appa.”

“Y/N,” he whispered. “Go.”

“What?”

“Go sleep! I’ve got her.”

“Oh my god.” You stared at him, like this hadn’t even occurred to you. “Oh my god!” You pressed your hand to your mouth, then kissed them each on the cheek, then fled the room, shuffling as quickly as you could so recently after giving birth. It was almost enough to make him laugh; he could hear the weight with which you hit the bed in their bedroom, like you’d jumped onto it so nothing could pull you back. He hoped you hadn’t actually done that; your incision was still healing!

Mi-Cha stayed quiet beneath his chin. He could feel the tiniest flutter of her breath against his collarbone. But she was only wearing a diaper, freshly changed; you hadn’t dressed her yet and he worried Mi-Cha would be cold in these final days of February, even though the house was warm.

“Ok, princess pup,” he murmured, “You need clothes. Let’s see… let’s see…” He heard the tiniest chirp and bounced over to the small mirror so he could see her reflection. Her eyes were open, looking curiously around, like she was surprised by her own acceptance of this new situation. 

“Damn, you’re cute when you aren’t screaming,” he grinned because damn, he looked pretty cool holding a baby like this. 

It was tricky picking out new clothes for her without risking his grip on her. He wound up sliding her down to nestle in the crook of his arm, and while she refused to let you hold her like this, she deemed it acceptable with Jungkook. The drawers in the closet were full of baby things in all soft hues, though a few fun outfits in darker colors, mostly his friends poking fun of his own fashion style. He picked a cozy green knit sleeper and talked to her as he dressed her, since he had to put her down. She fussed about it, so he moved quickly, tucking in her little feet and little hands, careful that her tail curled comfortably up the back. Eomma had already said she was looking forward to doing all the clothing alterations when she arrived, so Mi-Cha could proudly show off her little tail. 

“You look like a little green bean,” he admitted, lifting her quickly so he could shuffle a swaddle sack into place and tuck her into it. He started to pull a hat on but she fussed enough he left it off. But he still worried her head would get cold, so he found a bigger hat, one that dwarfed her little head when he pulled it down, but she accepted that. “So cozy, so cute,” he narrated, snuggling her back down into his arms. “We won’t go far today for our first adventure. Just to the kitchen to get some food and then back here. We can sit in the comfy chair and watch the flowers grow,” he suggested. “Eomma isn’t far, she’s just sleeping…”

Even after he had eaten carefully around her and returned to ease into the nursery chair, Mi-Cha still hadn’t cried. He worried she’d be getting hungry, but instead her eyelids started to droop as he settled down with her, draping a blanket over them both. She curled up against his chest, little mouth opening and closing a few times in the tiniest yawn. His heart briefly stopped when her little covered hand pressed against his chest and she closed her eyes and dozed right off.

“I see,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Mi-Cha. You surprised me in every way. But I made you wait while I sorted my shit out and that’s not right. I’m your appa, it’s my job to make sure you are loved and safe even when you surprise me.” He hunched over to kiss her little nose and stroked her cheek. She looked asleep, her breathing a bit heavier, but he still assured her, “You are loved and safe and I don’t know anything about you yet other than that you’re mine, and that’s enough for now.” He hesitated, then grinned, “And I think you are maybe stubborn too.”

Jungkook had nowhere else to be and nothing else to do that was more important than rocking his daughter, holding her close while she slept, and letting his mate finally get some sleep before you murdered someone.

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

You woke slowly from you nap and stretched, mindful of the C-section scar out of habit though several months after surgery you were feeling pretty good. Your shirt had hiked up while you slept and you glanced down at the smile on your lower belly --that was how Jungkook had described it between kisses along the curve of it a week or so ago and the comparison had lingered. Not that you’d had any doubt, but a new scar was nothing unattractive to Jungkook, once he’d had a few good visits with his therapist to work through the trauma of childbirth. You had not realized ahead of time how upsetting that would be for him, but it explained too the first rough few days in which he’d kept his distance from the small baby whose birth had caused your pain, blinding him briefly to the much greater joy Mi-Cha brought.

You felt bad not to have anticipated that. But how could you have predicted the pain, the fear, the exhilaration, the euphoric joy of holding your fresh little newborn against your chest? Even thinking about it now, as you often did, made your fingers itch to grab those little thighs, brush back the little fluff of hair, or stroke along your daughter’s tail like you’d formed a habit of. Tail! You had known of course that your daughter could have some level of hybrid chimera. You hadn’t expected it to be strange to you after how much time you’d spent with hybrids and that was the only thing you’d predicted correctly: it didn’t seem unusual to you at all. Every centimeter of that baby was beloved and precious and perfect. You spent hours going over every bit of your baby, relishing in every dimple, every downy patch of hair, every little blink and hiccup and murmur. 

Fears that you would have a baby and not know what to do with it? Absolutely the truth, you still couldn’t believe you had a baby, and it still felt like you were living hour to hour trying to keep Mi-Cha fed, bathed, and entertained.

Fear that you would have a baby and not love it? Absolutely unfounded. Even once the baby was an impossible being in your arms, no longer a series of flickers and thuds within your belly, you’d loved her. Even when that tiny baby had pushed you to the brink of collapse, when you and Jungkook had cried together in shared frustration, even when Mi-Cha had ruined not one but two of your shirts with diaper explosions, even then your love had been unshakeable. Maybe not your nerves or patience, but your love.

Now the quiet house was disorienting, even though you knew it was nothing to be worried about. Jungkook took her out for a walk just about every day at this time, so you could have a rest before Jungkook would head out to the restaurant for his evening shift if he had one. You didn’t know how long he’d be gone or when he’d return so you sent him a quick text letting him know you were awake. 

[JK<3]: on my way how’s mi-cha doing? I miss her [Y/N]: very funny

You cut up an apple and wandered outside so you could watch Jungkook arrive. Sometimes they biked and sometimes they drove in a cart if you were going along but today he’d walked. With your apple slices cupped in your hand, you stood on the wooden front porch and watched him come down the road, a flowery sunbrella shielding himself and the baby from the spring sunshine. He was flushed and sweaty from the walk by the time he stepped up and Mi-Cha’s head turned side to side from where Jungkook had her wedged in the front carrier; she could obviously sense you.

“My sweet baby,” you cooed, leaning down into view and stroking her hair where the headband with the big black bow didn’t cover it. The bow matched the little romper she had on, black and red polka dots with an all-black diaper cover. She looked like a little ladybug and it was definitely not what you had put her in but Jungkook, you had learned, found a lot of enjoyment in carefully choosing Mi-Cha’s outfits for their walks. He liked her in matchy-sets, whereas you really just put on whatever was clean and within reach --because it usually didn’t stay clean for long. She’d developed pretty bad acid reflux, which meant she spit up a lot and preferred to be upright and held, none of which her daddy minded at all. He’d proclaim “Time for a wardrobe change” every time he hauled her off to clean her up.

“Where were you too off to today?” you asked as Jungkook brushed past you to toss the diaper bag down just inside the door. You always smiled to see it, because Seokjin had tried to buy him a sleek black leather “dad-bag” that even you had expected him to love, and Jungkook had gone off about how dads didn’t need separate bags and who cared if this one had yellow and green pastel polka dots, and if anyone had a problem with it they could fucking fight him. 

“Mr. Moon,” he answered. You helped him untie and unbutton and untwist to pull Mi-Cha out of the carrier and took a moment to cradle Mi-Cha to your chest and kiss and nuzzle her face. Even though no scent really got applied, Mi-Cha loved it, and Jungkook had assured you there was a little of your smell that transferred. Mi-Cha gurgled and kneaded her fingers against your shirt, her little tail thump-thumping against your arm. 

“How’s he doing?” you finally answered. Jungkook gave you a look that said enough. His health had continued to deteriorate; Alya had earned her nursing license just in time to become his full-time caretaker. You knew the end was going to be incredibly difficult for Jungkook, who’d taken to Mr. Moon like a long-lost grandson so long ago. You were glad he still spent his afternoons there with Mi-Cha so often. 

The sudden kiss surprised you from the sad thought, and you leaned into it, smiling as his fingers brushed your arm.

“Hm,” you hummed. “Hello.” His bashful smile melted your heart as he made to turn away, but you leaned forward for one more kiss. You had been working on this lately, making a point of physical affection with each other. Mi-Cha had dominated both of your attentions for almost three months now and that wasn’t going to stop any time soon, but you both had admitted that you missed each other. So you had agreed to kiss more, touch more, without reason or explanation.  “I love you,” you murmured, brushing your nose against his jaw.

“I love you too,” came the reply, still music to your ears. Mi-Cha chirped and squeaked, and immediately both parents looked down at her. 

“It was a good walk,” Jungkook said, brushing Mi-Cha’s ear with his finger. “She smiles a lot at other people. I think she’ll be bright like you.”

“Bright,” you repeated. “Such a cute way to say that. But you’re forgetting how moody she gets when she doesn’t get what she wants, or if there’s too much noise, or--”

“Her ears are sensitive.”

“Ya, I know about her ears,” you teased. “Come on, you should drink some water. She’s probably about ready to eat too, unless she had a bottle.”

“She had a bottle,” he confirmed. 

“Ah, what a good girl you were for daddy today,” you cooed, swaying and bouncing her as you walked inside. “Are you going to be so good for mommy tonight?”

“I’m not working tonight.”

“Oh. I forgot--”

“That’s ok. I wrote it down.”

“I’m sure you did. The days sort of run together right now…”

He gave you a sympathetic touch on the shoulder, knowing how doubly exhausting that was, and assured you, “It’s ok. We’ll have a nice night in… unless you want to go out?” You had gone to dinner at Hoseok’s and his fiance’s place the night before though, and eaten an early dinner at the main house the night before that. It turned out, maternity leave was only as lonely and isolating as you let it be here. You had feared your social support would evaporate once Jungkook’s parents went home after two weeks but you only had to lift your phone or step out your door to find a Sanctuary’s worth of family eager to help.

Mi-Cha’s little mouth pressed against your collarbone, little tongue lapping at your skin. For most babies, that meant hunger, a rooting response meant as a gentle, early threat. But Mi-Cha liked to make things a little complicated by having a second behavior that was similar but not identical to rooting. Her little mouth latching onto something that was very clearly not a nipple for this adorable and maybe odd child meant she was sleepy. 

“Ah, she’s worn out,” Jungkook sighed, stepping close and touching her back as well as yours. “She was very busy at Mr. Moon’s…”

“Doing what? Is she finally painting?”

He snickered and corrected, “Looking, listening, fussing, holding onto pencils and paintbrushes we put in her hand.”

“Trying to make her a little protegee?” 

He looked serious as he answered, “No, no. We’ll see if she likes painting. She doesn’t have to like painting.” Mi-Cha sucked a little harder, then pulled off and let out a warning fuss.

“All right, sweet one,” you apologized. “Let’s check your diaper and then to sleep.”

“I just changed her, I think she’s fine,” Jungkook insisted, leaning down to sniff her diaper. It was more a gesture than anything though; he could always tell the second she was wet or poopy, even from across the house. At first you had envied him this immediate recognition, but there had been enough really bad diapers that had left Jungkook looking pretty green that now you thought your human sense of smell was maybe not such a bad thing. 

Together you went to the nursery. Despite Jungkook just spending the whole afternoon with Mi-Cha, you could sense his eagerness to still hold her. You felt the same way, desperate to keep that soft, warm little body close after your arms had been empty for that same time; you’d felt the emptiness even in sleep. Even now when you napped, you would sometimes startle awake, reaching for a baby you had dreamed was falling, only to realize no baby was there, and you wouldn’t have left Mi-Cha in a dangerous place to begin with.

So you motioned Jungkook to the glider, then curled up on his lap with Mi-Cha tucked in with you. The deep sigh from Jungkook left no secret how happy he was to have both his girls close. Both his girls. You melted every time you heard him say that. How silly of him to have doubted he could figure out a baby girl, as he’d admitted to you. Those fears hadn’t completely left him, but you knew and he tried to believe you that he’d figure out any other “daughter demands” just like he had changing a daughter’s diaper. He even had a little song he sang to Mi-Cha when he did it! Front to back, just like that; wipe wipe wipe, hush don’t gripe; clean the way, tummy to tail, and then put-a-new-diaper-on-quick-before-you-pee-on-me-again. 

Jungkook was right about one thing regarding Mi-Cha: her emotions were bright and loud and she didn’t hide them. She felt safe and comfortable and loved, you were certain that was why she was so forthright with her happiness, her impatience, and her tiny baby rage that sometimes poked out. Mostly though she was happy, and it showed in the steady little flick of that tail and the curve of her mouth into a sleepy smile as she chomped down on the pacifier Jungkook had finally been convinced would not doom her teeth for life before they’d even grown in. 

“She’s so perfect,” you sighed, an infinite refrain. “I think she’s even prettier now that we get to sleep sometimes.” Jungkook rocked you slowly and brushed his finger against Mi-Cha’s thigh, making her twitch and kick and curl closer to your chest, as if seeking protection. “Let her sleep,” you jokingly scolded.

“Ah, it’s boring when she sleeps, I think…”

“I know,” you admitted. “At least you got to see her all afternoon, I was just asleep and now she’s going to sleep.” Your low voices didn’t seem to bother your daughter at all; she was used to this, after all, being cradled by both her parents as she dozed off. Jungkook’s mother thought they were crazy to let the bedtime routine be so long and drawn out and maybe you’d regret it eventually, but right now, just holding her as she fell asleep was so perfect.

“You were up with her at four-thirty in the morning,” Jungkook pointed out. “After she was already up at one.”

“Yeah… someday when she’s all grown up, we should wake her up as much as she wakes us up.”

“She won’t think we’re as cute as we think she is,” Jungkook pointed out.

“That’s sort of the point of revenge.”

He chuckled and turned the glider slowly so you could see out the window, angled so Mi-Cha’s face stayed in the shadows. Sitting in this glider, watching the flowers erupt from their winter slumber during the early weeks home with Mi-Cha had been magical and surreal. You would never think of early spring the same way again. It would now always remind you of those early days of parenthood with Jungkook by your side. 

“I hope the flowers are still beautiful for her 100 Day celebration,” you mused. Jungkook’s parents would be back again next week and your grandparents were flying in to meet her for the very first time --later than they had hoped, after you grandfather had been too sick to travel after contracting some disease at the site of their latest sanctuary project. He’d pulled through fine but it had scared you; the party would be emotional for many reasons.

“Shhhh.”

“Huh?”

“You are stressed about it,” Jungkook observed. “I know. But it doesn’t matter. No one will notice the flowers because they will just notice Mi-Cha. And no one will care if the party isn’t perfect because it will be just because we’re together.”

“When did you get so wise?” you teased.

“I’m a father now, I’m supposed to be wise.” At your glare, he grinned, “I know you. I know you want to do things to show you care but she knows. I know. Everyone knows.”

“That’s rich coming from the man who gets her dressed for the runway just for a walk down the street,” you teased.

“She likes it,” he defended, carefully reaching around to gently pull the bow off their sleeping baby’s head so she could rest more comfortably. “I don’t like this one as much, I think it’s scratchy, but I think that’s why she likes it.”

“Do you think her ears are still dry?” you frowned, leaning in to look.

“I put the lotion on.”

“I know you did… maybe we should try an oil instead… they look good though. Maybe she just likes the bow,” you conceded. It amused you, thinking about Jungkook trying on different bows and hats and headbands for your infant daughter who couldn’t even sit up on her own. And then nodding as if she’d made her preference known. And then building an outfit around her choice. “You’re so cute, Jungkook.”

“I’m… whatever. I’m just-- it’s just whatever. I don’t mind bows, if that’s what she likes. Or whatever else she likes.”

“You’re not worried she’s going to be into fighting anymore?”

Jungkook tossed the bow over to the basket and answered, “Someday when the time is right, I’ll teach her just enough to make sure she never has to actually fight. Just enough to make someone stop if they’re bothering her. Just in case she’s like you and attracts trouble.”

“I don’t!” you defended. He grinned and kissed you breathless. “Unless you mean that you’re trouble. I sure attracted you.”

“It’s not a very good joke…”

“You’re a turd.”

“Don’t let our daughter hear that,” he playfully growled. “She has sensitive ears.”

You laughed and pressed your nose to his, your arms full of your daughter who’d melted into a warm little pile of mush when she’d fallen asleep, your heart full of love for both of these people.

“Is it as good as you dreamed after all?” you asked.

Jungkook’s furrowed brow could be felt against yours as he insisted, “You’re the dreamer, not me. I never can dream as good as things with you will be. I can’t dream good enough. Everything in our lives is… beyond.”

“Yeah,” you agreed before stealing one more kiss. “Everything in our lives is beyond.”

[imdreaminadream]

The results pt 2 ~ what about it makes you cringe?” Category 3

( - prologue.   - part 1  - category 1  - category 2 )

Okay so this is the results to the question in the quiz, What about it makes you cringe. In reference to the questionnaires core subject about smut fanfics.

Also quick psa there will be a part for the results for the other question -  “In kpop fics, Korean words i.e. jagiya, seem to be a no no, would you like to elaborate why?”

Now note these particular results are going to be split into 3 posts because I decided to split the results into 3 categories. 1 - Writing Aspects. 2 -  Personal Preferences. 3 - Genuine Problems.   >This post is category 3<

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR MENTIONS OF - rape, minors engaging in sex, child pornography, childhood trauma, unsafe bdsm/kinky sex, misogyny?, toxic masculinity? anything else that needs to be tagged message me so I can add them.

DISCLAIMER BELOW. (please read that before continuing)

This is going to be a long post. The responses were very enlightening but please don’t take this as an attack. Consider this more as constructive cheat sheet to good smut writing or just ignore it if you don’t agree with it. Some of this did a bit deep apricate trigger warnings will be put on the appropriate posts but I’m not sorry it got deep fics can also affect real life as much as we wish it were something that didn’t mix in with real life, it does. I’m no official like sex guru or big-time writer, or what ever BUT I did add little advice underneath each answer, which are just a reflection of the people’s answers. Again if you don’t like the sounds of this don’t take it personal and click off.

Genuine problems

Rape territory - There was a common theme of people commenting about what is essentially edging into rape territory. This was talked about with both sexes, where one expresses, they’re not in the mood but the other just continues to make advances on them until they end up having sex. Everyone who spoke about it mentioned it comes across as coercive or forceful (which would be dubious consent, but I personally know how no one tags it as that because they don’t realize.) something that makes them immediately stop reading and knocks an author’s credit in their eyes. When a character is crying as though they’re not enjoying it, but the sex doesn’t stop and there is not safe word that is used.

No advice for this just use common sense.

Lack of tags which indicate trigger/content warnings - This only came up a handful of times but considering its importance I added it in here to talk about. The comments about it were straight forward as is the topic. Some authors aren’t tagging their work appropriately and it’s actually quite dangerous. You tag your work for a reason to let people know what is involved in it before they read, tagging everything is crucial. If something isn’t tagged you risk the reader, at the very least, the reading but then feeling discontent because it had something in they don’t like to read. Then at the worst you risk people’s mental health, you risk them having panic attacks, anxiety attacks because their trigger was in your fic but they didn’t know because it wasn’t tagged for them to see and know not to read because it could trigger them.

Advice for this is to bold things which you know for sure are sensitive topics, and make sure to tag everything in your damn fucking tag section. You risk people having panic attacks when you don’t tag your work right and they read your work only to find out it has their trigger included in it being blindsided because after reading your shitty tags they didn’t know but you put it in there. Also please don’t just tag smut, tag everything included in that smut because something works are tagged smut and then next thing you know person b is being choked, clothes cut by a knife, restrained with rope, told they’re a slut/whore.

They’re a minor - This also only came up a handful of times, not because people don’t care but probably because they don’t commonly come across it enough however this is incredibly important topic even outside of what about smut makes you cringe. This shouldn’t be a problem, as in it shouldn’t be happening as the people who commented, me and all of you know. They’re a minor, under 18, they’re technically still considered child in the law’s eyes anything sexual about them, like writing smut about them would be considered child pornography. “Things that persons under 18 are prohibited from doing - being depicted in pornographic materials.” No one even cares about “but I’m the same age as them uwu.” It still doesn’t make it right so don’t try and use excuses. Also, the minute a person turns 18 if your first thought is oh, I can write smut about them or request someone to write it for me please just leave that’s like preying on them as though you counted down till they were 18 and now the only value you see in them is for sex.

Mine and everyone else’s advice DON’T FUCKING DO IT.

Also, to note I don’t know what the official rules are for age swapping so like writing an adult person as a minor and depicting them in smut materials, to cope with your trauma, would anyone be open to talking to me about it, like educating me? There has just been this sudden wave more fics being, it’s okay to write adult that I made a child in my fic engaging in sexual content because it helps me cope with my trauma. It just seems everyone’s started saying that and I don’t know how many are being genuine or using it as an excuse or gone with the flow treated it like a trend. Not to be rude just genuinely how legit is this? How many people who write it have genuinely experienced that trauma? P.s if you have experienced that trauma, I am genuinely so sorry and know I am not disrespecting or invalidating your trauma I promise.

Female Characters/misogyny? - Now what this means is everyone expressed how they hate the constant portrayal that it only takes seconds for a female to reach an orgasm and she already wet to go like some kind of tap. They also highlighted a big problem with constantly painting the female as this innocent, dainty, dumb, naïve, shy, small, little girl. Women have brains too; women can give as good as they get and aren’t these shy naïve little playthings. All women have different personalities, the stereotypes about women in fics I’ve seen through the answers, and myself in fics, to my questionnaire is upsetting everyone. And you can see why, is it not bad enough we are subjected to misogyny and stereotyped in real life but now we have to see it in fics too. It genuinely does make people stop reading, it makes them cringe as the answers have suggested. One person mentioned this in their response, and I feel it should also be included, “y/n is absolutely okay with everything being done to her.” This isn’t something we should ever hear. This category feels like the right category to mention it so just consider their words, consider why that makes them cringe at smut writing that includes that.

To everyone the advice is a no brainer when you look at the responses. Make sure that the female character is actually getting turned on like into the mood before even thinking about mentioning that she is wet. And consider that a lot of statistics and personal experiences of other women stating it’s not all that easy to orgasm during sex, and not typical for her to come before the male, so make it sound like it’s worth the female characters while not that they do it for 3 minutes and suddenly she is coming.

Please also STOP with the constant bullshit of stereotyping of women as exampled above. If you like to feel small or submissive or whatever in the bedroom and you express that in your fics I get you but that does not mean you have to portray the female character as dumb, naïve, small, weak like for the love of god spice it up a bit, make her powerful, clever, with personality etc.… being in charge of her own body, knowing about her body, and what she wants and how to get it.

Btw no one is saying it’s not okay to be shy and that before you come in here like “why are you shaming shy, or small girls or dd/lg kink,” it’s not that I can assure you. We’re talking about the stereotype of it that is used to make the women seem more pliable for the man to control essentially not the genuine personalities/kinks people have.

Very passive sub female reader and overly dom male - Now many people spoke how an over macho dom male, and a passive - made out like they’re dumb, submissive female is a dynamic that is making them cringe now. It’s not a dynamic they care for anymore, and I agree with them especially considering the issues it brings about. “ Whenever the female reader is extremely passive and shy/flustered whereas the idol/character is extremely assertive/condescending/dominating/leading everything in comparison.” There is a personal preference to this yes# people acknowledged this, however when talking about this dynamic they further explained the issues with it. Overly passive female has already been touched on but to reiterate the replies insinuated they’re sick of seeing women in fics treated how they are in real life essentially – like some dumb little girl. One person said, “I like when the girl can give as good as she gets, though that’s just my preference.” So, like what has been discussed before this portrayal of females it absolute bullshit and needs to fucking stop being such a constant portrayal. (mind break is different so don’t start)

Then for the male side of things it’s enforcing the stereotype men are macho an alpha male, they don’t have feelings they just think with their dick and have all grr I’m super toxically manly do you ever lift bro, I’m so strong, I get all the bitches, fuck all the girls, the have control over the passive female and not in a consenting way, in an entitled way. Which no, they can have feelings, they can be softer more feminine all whilst still identifying as a man. They can be submissive just as much as a anyone else, they can be a switch or just a dom that isn’t this macho, macho, man. They can be needy, loving, caring, in touch with themselves, their feelings and everything the female character is made out to be, apart from dumb, naïve and weak of course, yano all those negative things any gender and non-gender people want to be associated with. If the guy wants to get railed by the female and be the sub in the dynamic of male x female, then fair enough let it happen there isn’t nothing wrong with it.

All in all, it’s okay for males to be more feminine than masculine and females more masculine than feminine. It’s okay to portray that in fics genuinely. I wouldn’t say I have any advice for this other than the obvious no more macho man and passive females.

Use of Korean words. - If you’re not a Korean person don’t think you’re in the right to argue about this. The Korean people have spoken up and you will listen and respect them. Know this is an important topic, however there will be a separate post for this, so I’ll keep this bit short to then expand on more in the separate post. Just wanted to make you the reader aware that this is an issue.  It’s not okay to be treating noona, unnie and oppa like a kink if you are not Korean, or have Korean heritage. The people who are Korean so kindly explained, it was a normal word for them like just another part of their culture until bad egg kpop fans got their hands on it and they have now sexualized it to the point where some Korean people do not feel comfortable to even use it without thinking of the sexual connotation it has now been given. 

Now like I said I will talk further about that and more, to do with the use of Korean words in fics, in another post, I don’t already have that post drafted so it might take a while to get out and post. However in that time I’m gladly open to hearing more people who are Korean and have Korean heritage, views on this. Or if you too have experience with a word from your language having been taken from being an innocent word to now having a sexual connotation as well because of people not from your country/culture having given it that sexual meaning. It could be helpful to further emphasis the point about the Korean words but also show overall no matter the language/country that it’s making the people of that country/culture uncomfortable. 

Also I hope it doesn’t come across like I’m trying to speak over Koreans. If anything i want to be helpful more than a hinderance. This was something that was spoken about on the questionnaire so I’m just writing what the Korean people have expressed about it in the questionnaire. I want to be able to give their voices from the questionnaire a platform and shed light on this situation, with them.

Also can I ask if gender is a factor in this as well? I’ve seen on tiktok where some Korean guys like being called oppa but I’m not sure if that's in a respectful light or a sexual light, if they were being sarcastic for the Korea-boos or? but i have never seen women say they like being called noona in a way that comes across as a turn on? So can anyone comment on that? send me anons pls.

Too much degradation - Of course everyone who has mentioned this has said it is quite a personal preference thing, the acknowledge that it’s a kink not for everyone. Although on the flip side them relentlessly mentioning it give the feel that it’s becoming more of a problem and less of it’s okay it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. You see they exampled “bitch, slut, whore.” It’s so commonly used, and they even said how they’re finding it not tagged majority of the time, so seeing that surprisingly in the fics constantly it makes them cringe but it’s not a type of thing one can get over it’s apparent it’s becoming a slight problem. It begs the question how much degradation is too much, why is it constantly being used in fics? Does everyone love labeling the female y/n a bitch, whore, slut? Why is the male y/n never called a slut as much as female y/n? Do females have more of a degradation kink than men?

I can’t think of any advice to give based on the feedback, apart from obviously add it to your tags that there is a lot of degradation but it there is anything anyone else wants to add on this topic feel free to re-blog with your take or send me anons.

Describing features on a y/n fic - A few people have mentioned this, and I categorized it as a problem because well it is because not only does it make them cringe in smut fics but also in normal fics and poc feel oppressed in yet another way. When it’s written as y/n it’s supposed to allow the reader to insert themselves into the fic to imagine themselves in there, yet it’s not always done like that. As one of the responses said, it seems authors like that tend to project themselves or their ideal selves onto y/n physical feature wise. More often than not as the responses have indicated y/n is portrayed as cis female, white, blonde, blue eyes, other physical traits such as breast size, dick size body type, height and hair length are portrayed too, which pulls the readers out of imagining because they’re being told they have features they don’t. It’s especially bad for poc because their race never gets portrayed in fics, so it gives the message white race is the most favorable and we already know how racist the world is no need to bring it into fics either unknowingly or purposely.

Moral of the story, stop racism, end it. Go educate yourself.

Moral of the story, in regard to fics, well don’t describe y/n thoroughly. Instead leave it as vague as possible, I mean it’s not even needed to know what eye colour y/n has when they’re in the middle of getting railed.

Quick intermission to just say make sure you tag what gender and pronouns y/n has for your fic, so people are fully aware what y/n they’re getting in this fic.

Nor do we need to know what skin colour they have, it can easily be mentioned that a character is touching y/n’s body without saying they have milky skin indicating they’re white. It is very possible to not give y/n a race. Also, height, keep height out of it don’t describe it because not everyone is 5’2. (hello yes, I’m 5’10 so imagine me reading character a of height 5’8 towering over me, I mean maybe if they wear heels yes but otherwise no.) Similarly, don’t ever describe body types, you can say an outfit flatters a person’s figure without describing it, people can have sex without their body being specifically described i.e., slim figure, toned shapely legs. Please understand that by not describing y/n you’re helping to contribute to racism, and these wacky beauty standards that are already being forced onto us in the real world never mind the fictional world. 

Lack of safe word - Following on from kinks not being portrayed correctly there is the issue of lack of safe word. Now this is something that again didn’t come up quite a lot but that doesn’t mean it’s not an issue. Some are writing fics where one of the people involved, are being railed to high hell and it’s kinky as fuck or you’re writing a BDSM specific fic. Which is okay we are not judging or shaming but it’s concerning how with all this type of sex being had there is no even slight mention of the pairing having a safe word which is has the name would imply really important. It is there to keep the people participating in this kinky sex safe, without that it’s really harmful. Now if you think oh but writing in the discussion of safe words is really unsexy, especially when I’m just trying to make the characters fuck really kinky, then please go educate yourself. Safe words are incredibly sexy when you know it means you get to have bomb ass kinky sex but know that you can also have boundaries that should and will be respected, and a word or system i.e. traffic light system, to pause or stop when ever you need to in order to keep the kinky sexy safe.

The obvious advice is to incorporate consent and knowledge of safe word in your fic. It can be as simple as writing that the characters stop a minute for person a saying to person b you know your safe word. And then writing a small mini paragraph of person b feeling even more in love and/or turned on because their boundaries are being respected. Then you just carry on with writing the smut. You can imply easily that they have a safe word, that it’s been discussed, therefore they’re gong to be safe, respected and made to feel good.

Also, I know there are some people out there who are, a bit unsure on writing a fic in which one person uses their safe word. This is your friendly supportive message to just do it, don’t be afraid of what others think, do it for you it’s something great to write. There are many different ways you can go with it, so you do it if you want to 😊.

Honorable mentions of things that make the people cringe.

(Not a problem just as we are at the end of this category I figured I’d put honorable mentions. disclaimer again, these are other people’s comments from the questionnaire. You are entitled not to agree with them however do not attack me as some have been doing.)

fetishize people’s gender or race/ethnicity

uneducated use of other cultures to make it look authentic

Use of the word plum when they mean plump. One’s a fruit/colour, the other means having a full rounded shape.

PICK ME Y/N (we all know the type)

Stereotypes of all kinds. Of people, phrases, troupes etc.….

Written in a way it sounds monotone. i.e., “He did this, he did that, I did this.”

 When all y/n does during a smut scene is whine. There are other synonyms people.                                                                               

infantilization of y/n. stop making me feel like the person who the fic is about, is a nonce.                                                                                      

y/n is constantly oh so innocent. Like they can be a virgin don’t get it wrong. BUT we all know 9 times out of 10 y/n reads fanfic so they ain’t innocent.· 

no refractory period. 

try hard humour in the middle of smut.

terrible euphemisms

proper unrealistic dick sizes

adding in smut into a plot where it doesn’t fit

try hard

more to come potentially?       

END OF CATERGORY 3

(Feel free to discuss in comments, in my messages or send anons or anything like that if you want.)

@nctsworld  @lauraneuuh @jooniyah  

 Tag list:

@ceoofxiaojun @lovemayble  @myelle-n

(@smutwritingpolice) (@smutwhy)

[btsslowburnfic]

Series Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.

AN: a loooong update where we get YN to Korea Previous Chapter here

The three of you made it safe and sound to your new brownstone across the river in New Jersey. Joe has a job lined up, but at the moment you and Xavier are unemployed. On this particular day, you are in your room job hunting when you hear a knock on your bedroom door and then see Xavier gently push it open. “Fly your ass to Korea. Now. Here,” Xavier throws a book at you. “I bought you a Korean dictionary.”

You roll your eyes. “Namjoon speaks English. And I can’t read the characters or whatever so how will a dictionary help. And, I’m not going to Korea.”

Xavier crosses his arms in front of his body. “Girl. You are still in your twenties. You have no job. There is a hot man who is also your soulmate across the ocean. GO TO KOREA.” You pick your phone back up, ignoring him. You hear him let out a frustrated sigh and leave the room. You didn’t know what you wanted. You didn’t tell them that Namjoon had passed along his schedule to you and that he would be in Korea for 6 weeks starting in two weeks and that he had offered to buy you a plane ticket. You kept going back and forth. Fine. Fuck it.

YN: Hey! I’ve been thinking and I would like to come visit. As long as it’s not too much trouble and won’t interfere with your schedule

You let out a breath and put the phone down. One thing you have learned is that he keeps very strange hours and there is no way of knowing when he will be awake, when he will be performing, or even what country he is in. You are shocked when you receive a reply instantly.

NJ: It’s no problem. I will be working a lot of the time, but there is also some free time blocked out so make sure you’re ready to do some sightseeing as well on your own. I’ll rent a noona for you.

YN: I have no idea what that means but ok. Sounds exciting.

NJ: You can rent tour guides. An “older sister” to translate and show you around on some of the days.

YN: That would be amazing! Ok. Sounds great!!

NJ: I’ll book the flight and email you the information.

YN: Awesome ^_^ Thank you so much.

You try to keep your cool. You really do. But it doesn’t last long as you sit the phone down and walk out into the hallway. “Xavier!”

“What? Brat.” You hear him call from the living room.

“I’m going to Korea!” You say with a big smile on your face.

“Holy shit. You’re doing it!?! Really? When?” He sits up straight on the couch.

“I’m not sure. He’s booking the flight.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God. IT’S HAPPENING. Come. Sit here. Let’s watch some Kdramas. We need to prepare you.”

You roll your eyes but join him on the couch anyway.

--3 weeks later--

The flight isn’t too bad. When Namjoon booked your ticket you did secretly wonder if he would spring for an upgraded seat since you know...you guessed he was rich. You did not expect that he was going to pay for a first class seat though. The comfort of the seats and the fact that food was actually delicious helped to balance out the longest flight you had ever taken in your life. You managed to get some rest on the plane, but not very much since you were so excited and nervous. You had not seen each other for a while. And the last time you saw him you were both naked.

When you arrive you don’t have any bags to collect; you just brought your carry-on. You know you are going to do a lot of shopping while you are there and had decided you would just buy a suitcase there. You walk down to departures and scan the crowd looking for your name. This was so exciting. You had been the person in the crowd holding a name placard before, but you had never had it done for you. It helped that it was one of the few names written in English. You smile and walk over to a man in a suit.  After confirming each other’s identity, you follow him out to a black SUV with tinted windows. He takes your bag and you slide into the backseat. 

YN: Hey! I’m on my way to the hotel. When will I get to see you?

NJ: Yeah….about that. There is no way I would be able to just be going in and out of a hotel without anyone here noticing. This isn’t LA. We can’t really go out in public much here. The driver will be taking you to my apartment complex. Once you get here, you will let security know who you are. They will provide you with a key and directions.

You weren’t expecting this at all, but it made sense.

YN: Umm ok. Sounds like a plan. 

You hoped to God someone at the security office spoke English. Oh well. You typed some things into your translation app just in case and tried to enjoy the scenery. It was a city, but it seemed a lot cleaner than LA. Less sunny, and more modern. At least the parts you were driving through.

After a fifteen minute taxi ride that has brought you into a very fancy part of Seoul you try to keep your cool as your driver assures you that this is the location you are supposed to be at. It is fancy looking as fuck and has a giant ass gate around it. The driver pulls up and shows his credentials and then pulls up and rolls your window down.

The security officer stands there, looking at you. You pull out your passport and state your name. He looks over a sheet of paper and nods. Handing you an envelope that feels like it has a keyboard and some papers in it. You thank him in shitty Korean and the driver closes the window. You open the envelope.

“Hey. If you’re getting this, I wasn’t able to get off work in time to meet you. The driver knows which building to go to. Use this key to go to unit 4106. Text me when you get there. Sorry!

Namjoon”

The chauffeur drives between several of the buildings. The streets are lined with trees and there appeared to be several small gardens between the buildings. The car comes to a stop outside building 4. The driver gets out to open your door and hands you the bag. You thank him and head into the building.

The apartment building was a lot like a luxury hotel, you find yourself thinking. It was decorated similarly with gilded light fixtures and a marble floor. You scan your key card at the elevators and head up to the 10th floor. 

It becomes very obvious from the minute you walk in that this is Namjoon’s actual apartment. His giant shoes are all over the foyer.  You purse your lips and take out your phone.

YN: YOU DIDNT SAY IT WAS YOUR APARTMENT

NJ: Relax sweetheart, the guest bedroom is for you. I’m hardly ever there. Make yourself at home and I’ll see you later ;p

YN: THATS NOT THE POINT

NJ: You’re welcome. Stop being a brat and enjoy.

You pout a little bit. Fine. Fine. You’ve already slept with him so why does it matter if this is his apartment. Because it feels so much more intimate, you think. You enter into the space while texting Xavier.

YN: New chapter in the Kdrama series. 

You knew Xavier would normally be sleeping, but he was so excited and wanted to make sure you made it safely he was wide awake.

X: Oh no, what?

YN: he didn’t arrange for me to stay in a hotel IM AT HIS APARTMENT.

X: AHAHAHAHAHA HOLY SHIT. Is it nice? Is there like a waterfall? Does it smell like rich people? Send pictures!

YN: I don’t think I should send pics since he’s famous, but there are no waterfalls that I can see. It smells normal. Actually no, it smells new, like people don’t really live here. Stay tuned for updates.

X: Has he dicked you yet?

YN: -_- he’s stuck at work. And I’ll be in the guest bedroom thankyouverymuch.

X: Yeah….ok…..suuuuuuure.

You put your phone back in your pocket and continue to wander around the apartment. It is the size of a house. There is a small terrace running  along the side of the unit and three open rooms that flow together. I guess rich people need more than one living room? You wonder. They are all furnished with couches and art. The floors are a beautiful Marble. Or Granite. Some expensive imported thing. You notice several plants on the wall as well as out on the terrace. Huh. I did not think he would be into plants, you find yourself thinking.

YN: Nice plants

NJ: My pride and joy

You smile and walk into the kitchen. It looks like a showroom. You doubt much cooking goes on here. If you could afford to eat out all the time you would too. You open the fridge and as predicted, it is mostly empty. There are a few bottles of water and some random condiments. Panic strikes you as you begin to wonder if there’s a coffee maker in this apartment. This could be a deal breaker; you might have to flee to the Marriott. There isn’t one sitting out. You frantically open cabinets. You make eye contact with a very fancy looking Espresso maker. Ok. You will learn how to use this beast. You sit it out on the counter and plug it in. Crisis averted for now. You continue through the rest of the house. You quickly find the master bedroom. Big bed. That’s all you take note of before closing the door. You don’t want to be nosy. You wander to the other end of the apartment and find an extra bedroom and an office. You don’t go to the office, but do take your stuff into the guest bedroom. You are feeling tired and starting to feel hungry.

YN: When will you be back? Is there a convenience store nearby? I need coffee and/or food.

NJ: Sorry. It will still be a while. Actually there are several stores on property. The closest one is in building 2. Here, download the app. I’ll send you the login info.

YN: Thanks.

You change out of your traveling clothes into real clothing and head to the market. The apartment complex’s layout is fairly easy to understand once you look at the app. You walk over to tower 2 and ride the elevator to the market level. It looks like the atrium of a cruise ship. There is a giant crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the lobby area as well as beautiful indoor trees, glass art bulbs, probably a peacock or two wandering around, and some light music playing in the background. Oh God. I should just starve. This is too fancy. I need to leave.  

You turned to leave when you heard a voice speaking politely in Korean. You ignore it, and then hear the same voice ask in English,  “Excuse me, Miss. Can I help you?” A short man in his 50’s walked over. “I’m on the concierge staff here. You must be new.” 

“Ah yes. Thank you. Umm...Coffee please?”

“Of course. Take-away or beans?”

“Both please?” You ask, trying to keep it simple and very thankful for the English.

“Yes of course. If you just get me the unit number I can actually just have it sent there. Also there is an ordering and delivery app you can use next time if you would like to save yourself the walk.” The man explained while he typed some information into a tablet. 

“That’s very helpful. Thank you. For today, now please.” 

“Very well miss, please insert your chip or resident card here and sign,” he turned the tablet towards you. You inserted your debit card.  

“Thank you. Please wait.”

You take a seat in the fancy lobby area and get out your phone. You had some messages from Namjoon.

[NJ]: Oh, there is also an app you can download and order groceries to the apartment. 

[NJ]: I usually eat at work so I forget about it.

[NJ]: Sorry, you probably already hiked there.

A smirk crossed your face as you started to type a response.

[Y/N]: Sorry, I just saw these. And no worries. It’s a beautiful part of the complex. I was a little overwhelmed to be honest but the concierge was very helpful!  10/10 recommend.  

You take a picture of the lobby area and send it to him.

[NJ]: wow, yeah that’s beautiful. I haven’t actually been there myself.

The concierge returns, handing you a coffee and a bag of coffee beans.  You thank him profusely one more time.

“My pleasure. Take care.”

You sit the beans down and pose with your coffee cup, snapping a selfie to send to Namjoon.

[Y/N]: There, now all is right with the world ^_^

[NJ]: :) See you soon!

You travel back to the apartment and unpack your suitcase. You try your hardest to stay awake, but at this point you have been up for over 24 hours and you can feel the pull of sleep. You’ll just lay down for a nap. 

---------

It is dark outside by the time Namjoon gets off work. He feels bad he couldn’t meet you in the car at the airport, and even worse that he’s kept you waiting for hours. You haven’t answered any of his texts these past few hours either. He opens the door to his apartment. The lights are off. Did you leave? He wonders. He flips on the light and sees your shoes by the door which put a smile on his face. You must be sleeping. He hasn’t actually been in his apartment for about 2 months. It was mostly the same as he left it, except most of the time when he returned the apartment had a stale smell from having been left empty. This time it smelled like coffee and girl.

He enters the main living area and finds you laying in a small blanket nest on the couch with a laptop on the table; a coffee cup resting on a coaster next to it. He smiles and goes through to his bedroom to deposit his travel bag. He washes his face and changes clothes and then proceeds to nervously pace. Should he wake you up? You were probably tired, but at the same time, to prevent jet lag you shouldn’t sleep too much, and he wanted to hang out with you. He wrestles with this issue for a while and then decides he will try to wake you up.

He gently shakes your foot, “Hey sleepy. Wake up.” 

“Mmmmmmmmmmm…” you respond. What’s happening? You kick the thing bothering your foot. So annoying. You hear a deep voice laugh. Oh shit, where were you again? The shaking of your foot resumes and you crack open one of your eyes and see Namjoon sitting on the couch. “Heyyyy.”

“Hey there sweetheart. Nice seeing you in Korea.”

You feel your heart do a little flip flop at the way he’s talking to you but you want to play it cool. “Yeah. It’s good to be here.” You stretch out and move to sit up.

“How are your legs doing?” He asks.

“Good. They get stiff pretty easily and I still have to do my exercises everyday but they don’t hurt most of the time or anything. I get pretty bad headaches from time to time, but you already knew that. Sorry about that by the way.”

“It’s fine, I just carry aspirin around with me now.” He shrugs. “Did you get any food? Should I order something?”

“Yeah. Order some super Korean food.” You are fully awake now.

“Yeah? You serious? It’s not going to be like Koreatown food.” He teases

“Might as well jump in. If I don’t like it, there’s always rice, right?” You smile.

“That’s true,” he takes out his phone to order dinner.

“What did you do today?”

“Today was planning for the Festa. Even though it’s months away we have to make sure we have enough content planned just in case there are any unforeseen delays.”

“Cool.” You say. You had done your basic level ARMY research so you were somewhat familiar with their different activities.

“How was your flight? You should probably get up and stretch those legs around. Get up.” He pushes your shoulder playfully.

“Ughhh….fine. By the way. Nice apartment. Is rent like 20 grand a month?” You stand up groaning slightly like an old woman. Damn stiff legs.

“Uhh...I paid 6 million dollars for it up front so I don’t pay rent. Do you want anything to drink?”

It’s a good thing you weren’t drinking anything when he dropped that little factoid on you or you would have spit it out comic-book style. Jesus. That explained the security and Gucci grocery store. “Uh water please.” You walked over following him to the kitchen. “It’s good to see you by the way. Thanks for inviting me.” You slowly remember how to speak like a human again.

“Sure. I wish I had more free time to spend with you, but I’m glad you were able to make it.” He fills a glass with water for you. “Wait a minute! Before I forget,” he jogs out of the room and returns with a small box. “Here, this is for you. We were in Australia last month and I wanted to get something for you.”

You are surprised. It didn’t occur to you that he would think about you or buy you something. Until a few months ago you had considered yourself a nuisance. “Wow, thank you so much. You didn’t have to do that.” you say, taking the box, “I hope it’s a tiny KNOIFE or tiny koala or tiny kangaroo,” you open the box. It is an adorable mug with a Koala on it superimposed on the Australian Continent. It says in English, “Lucky Australian Koala.” You burst out laughing, cupping the mug with both your hands in front of your face. “This is perfection. Thank you so much for my authentic LUCKY AUSTRALIAN KOALA, I cannot wait to drink out of him tomorrow. Seriously. “ You sit the mug on the kitchen table. Fuck it. “Come here,” you gesture, and pull him in for a hug. His body feels solid against your and he gently wraps his arms around you. You give a firm squeeze. “Thank you for the mug and for flying me out here.”  You pull away and smile at him. 

He looks away almost shy, “It was nothing. I figure I still owe you a few for the pen incident.”

You take a drink of the water. “Yeah. You have had some dickish moments.” 

“Speaking of dickish behavior...do you want to talk about what happened with Ben or…?”

You shrug. “There’s not a lot to say. Ben apparently met his soulmate about 4 months before the car accident. He tried to stay away since we had already agreed that we didn't care about stuff like that. But he couldn't. I don't know when he started seeing Jessie behind my back. They were apparently banging all summer in the apartment and while I was in the hospital.” You take another gulp of water. Namjoon is surprised that he isn’t feeling much anger or sadness coming off of you. “After I got all my shit out of the apartment and had a chance to calm down, I couldn't be too mad about it you know? You and I had already slept together and most people aren't as stubborn as us. So really, how could they resist? I mean I was angry and sad at the time but at this point it seems like a lifetime ago. "

Namjoon had never asked about what had happened with Ben before, assuming that if you wanted to talk about it you would have brought it up. " Wow. "

"Yeah. I mean that's waaaay oversimplified but that's the gist of it. Anyways. Everything was a mess for me for a while. You know I stayed with Xavier and Joe and then  Xavier's husband got a really good job offer here so we all picked up and left LA."

“And now you’re in New York.” He finishes your thought

“Yeah. Well Jersey technically because rent is $1000 less a month. But I’m applying for jobs as assistant director at tv stations and theaters. I’m hopeful something will come up. I can’t really teach fitness classes anymore.”

Namjoon listens thoughtfully, feeling like a jackass for never asking about this stuff before. What kind of soulmate was he? 

“Well, let me know if you need a job reference.”

“Ahahahaha,” You laugh awkwardly. “No way. I don’t want people thinking I only got a job because I know someone famous.”

“Sweetheart, that’s how everyone gets jobs in the industry.” He leans against the counter.

“I don’t know, I’ll think about it.” You fidget

“You know I’ll just text Xavier and he’ll tell me the companies you applied for.” Namjoon flashes his dimples at you.

You scowl. “I didn’t realize you two were so chummy.”

“Hey, we bonded a lot in the hospital.” His phone let out a chirp. “The food is at the security office. I’ll be back in a few. Make yourself at home.” He heads over to the foyer to slip his shoes on. 

You decide to unpack and then wash your face and brush your teeth before returning to the main area where he has just returned. “That was fast”, you comment, meeting him near the door and taking a bag from his hands.

“I rode my bike over.” He replies, following you to the kitchen. 

“They let your clumsy ass ride a bike?” You tease, pulling food out.

He lets out a laugh, “Yeah. Just remember, only one of us has got hit by a car.”

“Touche. Touche. Alright. I don’t know what any of this is, so I’m going to go wait at the table like a lazy bitch.”

“Haha, fair enough. I’ll bring it over. “

You head over and have a seat at the dining table, placing your water down. This feels so weird. So intimate. He joins a few minutes later placing a bunch of food on the table along with a spoon and chopsticks.

“I’m sure there’s a fork around here somewhere if you need one.” He says as he opens the lids on the containers.

“I lived in LA where we ate sushi almost every day, I think I’ll be ok.” You sass back, ,looking over all of the delicious food. You start to dig in. He sits waiting to see what your reaction will be. You flash him a thumbs up as you chew. It’s definitely good. He smiles and begins to eat as well.

Dinner is relatively quiet. You had no idea how hungry you were until you started to eat. Some of the foods had a texture you didn’t quite care for, but overall you liked it all.

“Wow. That was delicious. Thank you so much.” You smile

“It was. You’re welcome.” He gets up and starts to clear the table and you join him. 

You continue to yawn involuntarily as the two of you straighten up the kitchen,

“Do you want some coffee or a nap?” he asks.

“I’m going to try and stay awake a little bit longer. What does the rest of the night look like?”

“Relaxing. I am exhausted from work. And you don’t look so fresh yourself. LEt’s watch a movie or something.” He says it so casually. Like this is a normal thing the two of you do. Like it hasn’t been months since the last time you saw each other and you left him naked and alone in a bed. You feel your heartbeat speed up.

“Hold on, I’m changing into some comfy clothes before I make this commitment.” you get up and head towards your room.

You come back in leggings and a shirt. Namjoon has re-positioned himself on the end of the couch. You sit next to him. “Ok, all set,” you grab your blanket. 

“You take your comfort quite seriously,” Namjoon laughs as he hits the play button. 

“Definitely,” you respond, yawning. After about half an hour, It’s dark outside, the night spilling into the living room. You are trying to keep your eyes open. You feel Namjoon put his large arm around you. You don’t resist, you nestle into it. You feel the warmth of his body radiating against you. It feels so nice.You try to stay awake but your eyelids grow heavy.  The next thing you know, you wake up slowly, not quite oriented to where you are. Your face is sweaty. You take stock of your surroundings. You are still in the living room. You must have fallen asleep while watching the movie. You move a bit and realize you are not alone. Namjoon is asleep as well. Underneath you. Oh god. You probably trapped him. Is that your drool on his shirt? You wonder. But you know that yes, it definitely is. Jesus [Y/N].Not making a great impression here.  Must sneak out so the drool will dry before he wakes up. You move as stealthy as possible off of him, which is very difficult since you found yourself laying between his legs. How did you even get like that? You had gone in for a light snuggle to see how it would be received and then apparently passed out dead. No more starting movies when you were tired. You knew it was your weakness. 

The poor man probably had to pee and was stuck, forced to lay underneath you until he fell asleep.    Is he snoring? Huh. Well ok. You drool and he snores. Very attractive individuals. You grab a blanket from your nest on the other side of the couch and put it on top of him. You sneak down the hallway to your bathroom, pee and sneak into your bedroom. You lay down and try to fall asleep, but your heart is beating fast as all you can think about it falling asleep on Namjoon. You feel your face grow warm. You are  a mix of turned on and embarrassed. You turn off your light and wonder if he will still want to go sightseeing with your drooly-ass tomorrow.  @calling-dips-on-j-hope​​  @ghostkat23​​ @cuteipat​​ @marianeamine​​@thisisval​​ @almonte12​​  @themisunderstoodblackswan​ @bobbyboops​  @betysotelo18​ @katerbees​

[purplesurveys]

1180

The last time you washed your hair, did you use conditioner? Yeah, I’m pretty paranoid and always feel the need to use conditioner because of a bad rebonding job from like a decade ago that stiffened up my hair as soon as it would get wet. It lasted for around a year, so I formed the habit of always using conditioner every time I shower. I don’t think I’ve ever used just shampoo since then.

Do you prefer light or dark jeans?  Dark, but I suppose it would be nice to start experimenting with lighter shades as well.

When you listen to music, do you generally sing along, or just listen?  It depends if I know the lyrics or I’m feeling the song at the moment. Obviously with my new obsession with BTS I can’t really sing along to entire songs, but I do sing the few English lyrics they have per song, hahaha.

Do you have any of your exes as friends on Facebook?  Yeah but she’s been muted for like half a year already, as is the rest of her family. I do have plans to unfriend her entirely; I’m just not sure when I would push through with it, and I already gave Angela permission to log onto my account one of these days to be the one to do the unfriending.

Who was your first love? Do you ever miss that person?  Gabie. I miss the friendship sometimes; I don’t think I’ll have a friendship as deep and connected as the one we had, so I will always feel sorry about how that went to waste. But I don’t really think about our relationship anymore as I’m pretty good at blocking off certain memories, so I don’t miss her in that sense.

How many cars are parked at your house right now?  Two.

Do you have any Italian ancestry?  I highly doubt so. If anything there’s probably a tiny drop Spanish blood in there but that’s the most European I’ll ever get.

Do you prefer water to be ice cold or at room temperature?  Like, drinking water? Ice cold, always. I hate warm water.

Has anyone ever told you you’re a control freak?  Not to my face, but I know I’m one so I’m sure other people have said that about me at least behind my back.

Do you know anyone who has gone missing? If so, were they ever found?  Yes, my friend Mik and one of my aunts. They were both found eventually.

What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten?  Eating ghost pepper instant noodles was a pain I would never want to go through again...I threw that shit out after my first forkful, lmao.

Do you need to talk to someone?  No, not in particular. In a more general sense I do wanna start gaining more friends though, so I’ve been meaning to expand my circle by creating a new Twitter account just for my BTS dump. In other words, I am a 23 year old with a stan Twitter HAHAHAHA

Is something confusing you at the moment?  No, I’m good.

When was the last time you had a real deep chat?  Maybe my conversation with Andi a couple of nights back. We were talking about a tricky situation with their ex-friend who turned out to be a real dick when they came out to him a year ago, and they just wanted to get my perspective on how I would handle it.

Who did you last see on webcam?  The PR manager for one of our clients, who we all despise because he doesn’t know how to do his job. Thankfully he’s resigning soon so we’re all just waiting for him to leave and finally meet a much more competent replacement.

What’s your best friend’s pet’s name(s)?  Angela has two dogs, Hailey and Kennedy. Andi had Apollo, who I wanted to meet so badly but sadly he passed away a week ago at 15.

Have you ever taken a picture while laying in the grass?  There are photos of me sitting on grass, but not lying in it. I would imagine that would feel very prickly and uncomfortable.

Who’s your favorite Disney character? Baymax or Flynn Rider.

Have you ever deliberately tried to get someone drunk?  I’ve made my friends chug drinks or down shots and it’s happened vice versa, but it was always in good fun and we never made each other harassed from it. It’s just your typical college rambunctiousness, and if anyone felt uncomfortable or iffy then we didn’t hesitate to move on.

When was the last time you used a pay phone and who were you calling?  I’ve only ever seen those in my first school, when I was in kindergarten. I never got to use it and they also took them out not long after.

Do you like being kissed on the neck?  Yessssssssss

Have you ever had sex with someone you weren’t dating (but had feelings for) in the hopes that they would ask you out later?  Nope. I don’t think I would have sex with anyone I wasn’t dating.

What’s the most you would be willing to spend on a good bra?  Probably a couple thousand bucks if I thought I looked good in it.

Do you have any of your teachers’ personal cell phone numbers saved in your contacts list?  I don’t think so. I never tried getting close with any of them, and I always tried to stay hidden as much as possible. I was just in class to get good grades and pass.

Do you ever stalk peoples’ personal blogs, even if you don’t know them very well?  I never really scroll through people’s Tumblrs anymore. That was more of a thing I did in like 2013, but these days going through my dashboard is enough.

What’s one thing about today’s generation that you just can’t stand?  Some social media trends done for clout make me revolted, especially when it has anything to do with wasting food. I also hate when they do extreme pranks that I know I wouldn’t find funny if I were ever the victim, like tossing someone’s phone into the ocean.

Be honest: how do you feel about abortion?  Pro-choice. 

Is there anyone you currently want to reach out to?  I would love to catch up with Katreen at some point, but I know we’re at different points in our lives now and it would probably never happen.

What is your favorite piece of art you own?  I commissioned my sister to make an artwork of the 2D1N cast, and she did a great job making it! I haven’t gotten to use it or promote it yet, but I will soon. It’s really well-done.

What’s the one thing you apologized for this month?  Replying late.

My favorite color is ______?  Pastel pink.

I wish I had _____?  Longer weekends.

What did you buy today? Nothing – I’d call that a success lmao, I’ve been spending money as if I had a million fucking bucks over the last week. I did have some packages arrive today though: my own copy of 2 Cool 4 Skool (my first physical BTS album!!!!!!); the official poster from their album BE; the Ivy Park sneakers I ordered earlier this month, and an Ivy Park bucket hat Bea had apparently gotten for me as a birthday present.

What has challenged your morals?  Vices.

What made you pick up the last book you started reading?  I had to read it in preparation for a one-on-one session with my employer’s CEO.

What about your life concerns you the most? Whether a stable future is in the cards for me.

What do you find particularly offensive? Would you say you’re easy or difficult to offend?  Probably Filipino-American comedians or influencers who use stereotyping of Filipino accents and habits as a punchline; they do more harm to the culture than good. I can tell you not one Filipino who lives in the Philippines actually finds those funny, and Bretman Rock is probably the only personality who’s able to flaunt the culture in an entertaining and hilarious yet classy way.

When it comes to being offended, I guess it depends on the context. My humor can get pretty dark and low-blowy, but I would have a problem with someone who I know has genuinely problematic views.

What was the last series you finished watching? Do you have any plans to begin another?  I think it may had still been Start-Up from last December. I’m not too big on Korean dramas since I find one episode waaaaaaayyyyyyy too long. I don’t think I’ll be starting on anything soon, Korean or otherwise.

What is one way in which you are different from a year ago? What is one way in which you are still the same?  I’m single now, for the first time in technically six years. I also think I’m doing better and happier, breakup notwithstanding. OH and I love wasabi now, hahah. As for what’s unchanged, I still like taking surveys and I’m still stuck at home, though the latter’s not really in my control anymore.

If you could learn about anything without the stress of grades or cost, what kind of classes would you take?  I’d just go back to UP for the free tuition. We also have the widest range of programs out of any university in the country, so it’s a damn good deal.

Name a song you’ve listened to today?  Fly To My Room - BTS

When you were younger, did you have a swing set or a playhouse in your backyard?  We didn’t; but one of our relatives that we’d regularly visit did have a playground that I’d use all the time. It’s still there, just very unmaintained since no one uses it anymore.

Is your mall nice?  Which one? We have five different malls nearby lol. Mall culture here is on another level.

Do you have a Sonic near you? If so, what’s your favorite drink from there?  No. I’m not so sure what they serve there, either. I’m guessing milkshakes?

Will you be voting in the presidential elections next time around?  I’ll always exercise my right to vote.

How do you feel about chocolate-covered strawberries?  I hate strawberries and I hate fruits, so even if you coat that shit in Nutella and cookie butter and chocolate syrup I still wouldn’t touch it.

Did you ever stop having feelings for someone and then started having those feelings again for them? No.

Do you hate the last guy you had a thing with?  I’ve never had a thing with guys.

To whom did you last give the finger?  I haven’t had to do that in a while.

What was the last musical instrument played in your presence?  My sister’s keyboard.

Do you like sprinkles on your ice cream?  Not particularly. They make things look cute, but they never taste like anything tbh so I never saw the point in paying extra just to have them on my desserts.

Honestly, have you ever crashed a party before?  Nah. I cringe thinking about that.

Do you know how to do the moon walk?  I don’t.

Has anybody ever told you that you have a good singing voice?  Never gotten that specific compliment before because I know I don’t have one.

Onion rings or french fries?  Onion rings.

Has anybody ever described you as a heart breaker? No.

Has anybody ever told you that you talk too fast?  I don’t think so, but I know I have the tendency to do so occasionally, especially while I’m presenting a deck. Once I notice it I make an effort to pace myself.

Who is the best cook that you know?  My dad and both my grandmas all deserve that title.

Which meal throughout the day do you skip the most?  I literally never have lunch ever.

What’s the largest amount that you can juggle at one time?  I can’t juggle.

What was your favorite thing to go on at the playground as a kid?  Sandboxes, since I liked the texture; the sandboxes in school were also often empty, which worked well for my introvert self. I find that it’s carried over to today, since I still enjoy touching things like slime and kinetic sand.

Do you know how much you weighed at birth? How much?  I think 5 or 6 lbs, I’m not exactly sure but it’s definitely somewhere in that small range.

Which aspect of your daily routine takes the most time? What do you do?  Work, for sure. I work a normal 9–6 so that’s already 8 hours out of my day, but I also OT a lot after hours, and I work throughout my lunch break as well so that technically makes it 9 hours. I also like getting up earlier and starting some work before my shift so that I would have less tasks on my plate for the day.

Do you enjoy buying gifts for others, or could you do without this?  I LOVE getting people gifts. Food is especially my love language, and I always get food delivery for my friends, family, and my team at work.

What is one thing you are expected to do, if anything?  I mean, I have work deadlines tomorrow so there’s that.

How do you tend to view driving? Monotonous or entertaining?  I love driving. I don’t think I ever complained about having to do it. It’s calming and relaxing when I’m doing it alone or with a partner; and it can be entertaining with the right set of people.

Do you enjoy talking about music with others? Not always. If I don’t listen to the artist then I can find the conversation quite boring, like if my friends would get into a full-blown discussion about Taylor Swift.

Is acting something you enjoy?  No. It wouldn’t even be something I’d be interested in doing.

When do you feel most accomplished?  Finishing a work day with no tasks left behind.

Do you think Manwich is amazing or completely gross?  Idk what that is.

How many best friends do you have?  Two.

Are you a smoker, drinker, pothead or none of the above?  I drink sometimes. I also kinda smoke, I guess.

If you have your ears pierced, when did you get them pierced?  My mom had them pierced when I was a month old.

Do you own any exercise machines?  My mom has this rowing equipment thingy. I don’t have any of my own, though.

On Facebook, do you have people listed as your siblings who aren’t really your siblings?  No.

Have you ever drawn or painted a self-portrait?  I remember having to draw one as a school assignment, but I’m pretty sure I half-assed that because I couldn’t care less for art class back then.

Who was your last voicemail from?  We don’t have voicemails.

Have you ever been falsely accused of something serious?  I don’t think so. That’s the sort of situation that would stick out in my memory if ever.

Did you ever set up a lemonade stand when you were a kid?  No, not a thing here.

When was the last time you spoke to someone in a different language?  Around an hour ago when I went downstairs and chatted with my sister briefly.

Have you ever received an anonymous gift?  Nope.

Have you ever camped out somewhere for an event the next day?  Nope but I definitely still wouldn’t be opposed to doing that haha.

When were you the saddest in your life? 2016 was fucking miserable. < I’d have to agree. 2017 was also awful.

Do you know anyone, personally, who is in an abusive relationship? Are you?  I used to know one but she got out of it. In a sense, I suppose I also was in one.

If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you?  Well they’re younger, so they definitely still live here, with our parents. I’m the first one expected to move out, but I’m taking my time.

Have you ever gotten searched by the cops?  No.

Do you like fried rice?  Of course. I like any kind of rice.

What was the last thing you drank?  Water.

[joonsrack]

+Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Kim Namjoon

+Genre: SFW (this chapter), E2L, attempt at crack, slow burn, WIP

+Word count: 1.2k (this chapter)

+Chapter: Prologue | 1 | ?

+Rating: General audience (this chapter; rating might go up as story progress)

+Warning:  No warning for now, except maybe the fact that i’m trying my hand at crack

+Summary: 

Celebrity chef Kim seokjin needs to salvage his reputation after being dragged in the news paper as a heartless monster out to make people cry. Enters his agent with the worst idea ever and one Kim Namjoon, the worst cook ever.

(Or: Jin is a Korean Gordon Ramsay and Joon is the bane of his existence.)

+A/N: Hello. This is for the Luv Library Collab - Culinary & Cuisine, which was due like ten days ago.... anyways. This was supposed to be a one shot but i realized i wanted to explore this plot more, so it became a WIP. I’m really proud of what the prologue came out like, heres to hoping i can pull this off during the whole thing :P

Seokjin slaps the paper down on his manager’s desk, looking like the perfect picture of confusion and exasperation. The phone is ringing in the background, as it has for the past twenty-four hours, slowly dragging him ring by ring down into insanity.

“Why are you showing me this? How is that any different than all the other times?”

Yoongi sighs deeply, not looking away from the new lamp on his desk; the fifth one this month.

Some people stress-clean, some stress-bake; Yoongi stress-shops light fixtures.

“This,-” he stresses, “is very different than all the other times” He purses his lips for a moment, finally sparring him a look after wiping away at an imaginary dust from the lampshade. “You made Jeon Jungkook cry.-”

“ Allegedly! ”

“- He’s the nation’s baby. The public wants your head” He says, picking up the magazine and waving it lethargically around for emphasis. “There will be blood to pay”.

He throws the magazine back at Jin, Jin catching it in extremis. On the first page is in big bold yellow letters: Celebrity chef Kim Seokjin bullies nation’s sweetheart Jeon Jungkook. Then in smaller characters: Has fame gotten to his head? There’s a screenshot of the tweet taking up most of the front page, looking very dramatic for what it really is.

“He asked me to rate his cooking and showed me dog vomit, what was I supposed to do?!” Jin asks, voice reaching high proportions. He doesn’t whine. He’s an adult. 

“Not asking him if this was the digested version would have been a good start.”

“And be kind to someone with an anime profile picture? In which universe?

“Couldn’t you see the little blue verified sign by his name?”

“ Anime. profile. picture. ”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, and Seokjin can’t hold back a groan. All of this happened because of the devil that is Jeon Jungkook. He knew exactly what he was doing, faking those tears during that live. Now his fans are onto him, making his life miserable.

“I merely told him his food looked like shit, but his fanbase- they’re” He pauses, shivers. Yoongi gets this unfocused faraway look in his eyes, probably going through some serious PTSD of all the time Jin set off idol’s fans. 

The phone rings, cutting through what probably is some very violent flashbacks. Yoongi fiddles at the lamp switch nervously, turning it on and off a few times to help keep his calm.

It’s the ring too many, and Jin rips the cord out of the phone in a flare of exasperation.

Under Yoongi’s startled stare, he lets his body sag on one of the couches, using the magazine to shield his eyes. Artfully, mind you; he’s not being dramatic, he’s being emotionally expressive. This situation is emotionally draining, and he needs to lay down for a sec. This probably the biggest crisis since he started gaining popularity, bigger than the time he accidentally asked Brad Pitt for nudes on twitter (Accidentally meaning he was drunk. Or so that’s what the public believes).

There’s a stretch of silence, both men contemplating every decision that led them here, in this office, with this pesky problem that is Jeon Jungkook faking tears on one of his lives to get back at Seokjin for calling his food ‘ animal regurgitation ’.

“Do you think this is the right hue for my office?” Yoongi asks distractedly, breaking the contemplating silence.

Jin sits up, letting his weight rest back on his elbow. “In all honesty it makes your head look big.” 

Yoongi’s eyes go sharp, taking badly to Jin’s criticism. He purses his lips, eyebrow arching to complete the look.

“Anyways, I found a solution.” he says, an evil glint appearing in his eyes.

“You did?” Seokjin asks, fully sitting up as confusion and worry mix in his guts. His agent waited all this time to bring it up, that just can’t be good.

Yoongi nods slowly, a mean smile stretching his lips. “I was unsure if it was the right one until now, but I think it just might be the thing to help us out of our little situation.”

“Oh?” Jin says, gulping loudly.

    “Oh, no.” Namjoon says, looking quite pale. “Absolutely not. I’ll get sued. We’ll get sued.”

“Come on now, Joonie. Think about it. It would be a good opportunity to promote your new album-”

“Playlist.” Namjoon corrects Hoseok, who ignores him.

“-Plus it’ll make you look relatable in the public’s eyes.” 

“How is me being an agent of destruction in the kitchen relatable in anyone’s eyes?”

“Look, all you have to do is go there, try not to chop your fingers off, make sure at least one of your dimples is visible at all times, and then you’re done.”

“Ok but what about my dignity? How can I ever rap about having an automatic dick if the whole nation learns I’m a useless adult.”

“Oh baby,” Hoseok says, a playful glint in his eyes. “You broke three pair of sunglasses in front of your fans last month. They already know.”

Namjoon grimaces.

“This is on a whole other level of public humiliation, Hyung. Me, in a kitchen, cooking.”

Hoseok sighs, rounding his desk he was leaning on to ruffle through the papers covering it. He’s usually a neat freak but they’ve been very busy with his last release. He grabs something from under a pile of paperwork, letting out a victorious ‘hah!’.

“There,” He says, holding out a brown envelope to Namjoon. “-It’s the proposal. Read it, and think about it, but I sincerely believe this could be a good way to promote your album.”

“Playlist.” He corrects, more resigned this time. 

His album hasn’t been doing too well; not bad, but not good either. They’re having trouble gaining traction, his agency on the smaller side and struggling to be taken seriously. He’s grateful for everything Hoseok is doing, and this is no exception. He knows he needs to do this, dignity or not.

Until something catches his eyes in the first few lines. There’s the title of the show, the producer name, the dates of filming, a slight summary of what the show is about, and then:

MC: Kim Seokjin

Because life hates him. 

His heart goes double his regular rate, hands becoming sweaty under half a second. His clothes seem suddenly too tight, too warm.

He can still remember, on that faithful pre-debut evening, lounging in his bunk bed while watching his favorite youtuber talk about himself.

It was before Kim Seokjin went mainstream and landed himself his own cooking show. Back when Eat Jin, his channel, had under 400k subscribers, and it was mostly videos of him cooking his favorite food and then gorging himself. This particular video was a Q&A, and for some reason he couldn’t understand, Namjoon was fascinated by this man, so of course he was watching it attentively. He was funny, handsome, charmingly witty in his answers. 

But it only took one sentence from Jin for Namjoon to finally understand exactly why he was so obsessed with the man:

“I like it. When my mouth is full of food. Because when I swallow, a large amount of food goes down and it feels like I’m almost going to choke- I really like that feeling.”

Namjoon had dropped his phone from the top bunk, too busy having an epiphany to even notice the sound of it smashing on the floor.

His sexual orientation was never the same after that night. 

And now he was going to lose his dignity in front of his gay awakening catalyst.

[margridarnauds]

XCalibur: My Review

So, it’s been a couple of weeks since XCalibur came out and, while I’m trying to sort out my own thoughts about this, I decided to do what I do best: Force everyone to read an overly long, barely coherent post.

First off: Let’s get this off the ground. The fact that we got to see this at ALL was phenomenal. This is really, really fantastic, as a step for KMusicals getting a wider western audience, and it’s something that I DESPERATELY hope that they will continue to repeat in the future. I’d have supported it if it was anything, simply because that would give a clear message that there IS an audience for this.

However...

[warning for spoilers, brief discussions of rape]

Overall Impressions: Look....it’s WILDHORN. Wildhorn and me....we go way, way back. Like, to 12 Year Old Rachel listening to Jekyll and Hyde. And the Scarlet Pimpernel. And....quite a few musicals after that. I CAN’T hate it. It’s WILDHORN + ARTHURIANA. Two of my favorite things in the world. But, that being said....this might very well be my fault, but I did find myself a little disappointed, in the sense that, listening to the cast album, I was expecting a much, much better musical than what I really got. Which was a huge order to fill, given that I’ve always considered Artus: Excalibur to be one of Wildhorn’s more problematic musicals. But, in all fairness, they DID kind of promise me more, given that they retitled the musical and said that this was the “World Premiere”™. The set is fantastic, the music is stunning, but it just felt a little hollow to me.

Sets/Costuming: I LOVED the Dark Ages aesthetic to it. The costumes really were great, Morgana’s in particular stole the show, but Guinevere, Merlin, Arthur, and Lancelot gets some nice looks as well, and it all serves to give this idea of the Middle Ages (albeit HEAVILY preying on the old stereotype that it was The Dark Ages, with a very dark color palette generally being observable throughout). This also serves to make it visually very distinct from the Korean production of La Legende du Roi Arthur, given the two of them showed VERY close to one another. (2019 was just the year of the Arthurian musical.) As a Celticist....it isn’t REALLY historically accurate, it’s still fantasy, albeit more Guy Ritchie’s Arthur VS The Crystal Cave Trilogy in terms of how MUCH fantasy it utilizes. LRA (and Artus: Excalibur) took the approach of it being PURELY fantasy, there is....nothing. Historical. In there. One thing that irked me about Artus was that it, in particular, had a CHEAP feeling, like it had roughly as much thought put into it as a 80s comic book idea of Camelot that they were going to slap on the back of a cereal box or something. (LRA, to its credit, was GLORIOUSLY anachronistic, but it was high budget and sleek. I loved it for that.) XCalibur is TRYING for a more historical feel, and, for the most part, it does succeed. Whether the set is a forest, a deserted hall, or Camelot in its prime, they SELL the medievalism. It’s a bit of a pity there’s no WELSHNESS to it, but that is me being nitpicky about my field not being in there. For an Arthurian adaptation, I’m not really going to ask for anything more; it gives what it promises and it does it well. (Though I will say that, every once in a while, one of those costumes would flash in the stage lighting and I would question whether I’d seen that gold fabric at a Ren Faire etsy. BUT in all fairness, those costumes weren’t designed to be viewed in close up like that, and this is probably me being needlessly mean. OVERALL, the effect was good.)

Music: It’s a Frank Wildhorn musical, so of COURSE I’m going to like the music. This is DEFINITELY a stronger musical than Artus, with several new songs (including “The Tempest”, “Let the Sword Make the Man”, and “If he were standing here”, both of which are highlights to me) that really stand out. Since settling himself firmly in the Asian market, Wildhorn’s stuff has developed a polish that wasn’t really there in his Broadway stuff. It sounds much more modern, much more streamlined, with Death Note, the Man Who Laughs, Robespierre, and Mata Hari all having a distinct SOUND that I’ve started to call Wildhorn 2.0. There’s this distinct energy that runs through this production that wasn’t really there in Artus, and I found that it makes the cast album REALLY a treat to listen to. As with Artus, “Celtic” (which, in this case, of course, means “Riverdance”) musical motifs are present in the instrumentals, but I found it MUCH less heavy handed than before, and it’s evenly balanced out by more traditional tunes. I didn’t feel like it was AS overloaded as before, where I routinely found myself napping in between swelling instrumentals.

As with all of Wildhorn’s stuff, there are certain songs that sound very similar to other musicals of his, if you know what to look for. “Why am I here?” for example is nearly a carbon copy of “Who do you Trust?” from Tears of Heaven and “Wenn das Shicksal dich ereilt” from Rudolf, which themselves form part of a distinct genre of his songs that can be traced back to “The Riddle” from The Scarlet Pimpernel and “You and I” from Svengali. “The Mark of the Wolf”, a new song, sounds very similar at points to “How Many devils?” from The Civil War. Etc. etc. I don't really consider this a BAD part, at least in the case of the former, since the songs in that genre, to me, represent the best of Wildhorn’s music. And, after all, with over 30 years on stage....the man can only come up with new music for so long until he starts producing SOMETHING that sounds similar.

Overall verdict? Strong music. Not my FAVORITE of Wildhorn’s stuff,  but I’ve definitely spent a few hours listening to the cast album on its own merits, and definitely more energetic and polished than the German run to my ear.

Plot: So, a big draw for me was “Has the plot been fixed from the days of Artus: Excalibur?” and.....I have many mixed feelings. I DO feel like we got more of a solid musical, but I also feel like it had some really, really sour notes and, in some ways, the transition to a new musical feels only half-way done. Like, they HAD a new musical in mind, they went halfway through the process, and then they shrugged their shoulders, said “That’s good enough”, and left us with a Frankenstein’s Monster. (Oh, wait, wrong KMusical.)

One of the biggest casualties was Morgana. Morgan le Fay has been one of my favorite characters in anything, ever since I was 7 years old and developing one of my first crushes via The Magic Treehouse. Morgana is always the FIRST one I look to in an adaptation to see how they handle her, and her plotline in Artus always felt weak for me, ESPECIALLY her relationship with Merlin, which Wildhorn once described as something along the lines of a “bit of a romance” but that was painfully underdeveloped, especially on her end. We knew that he was weak for her, to his detriment, we knew that she wanted what he had, and that they do.....the do together, but there’s very little REAL development in there, and no sign, on my end, of that “little bit of romance” as opposed to just. Using one another. When I heard that that plotline had been revised, I was THRILLED. Now, I feel like it was a monkey’s paw situation.

(1) Morgana goes from more or less apathetic to Merlin’s situation to.......being totally obsessed with him, to the point where she says he’s the only man she ever loved? Like, she goes from someone HIGHLY motivated by what she believes is her rightful inheritance to being motivated by Merlin’s dick.

(2) The timeline. My God, the timeline. Making Morgana a child when she’s shipped off AND then doing the “Only man I ever loved” thing (and SEEMING to imply that Merlin did love her as well, but refused to say it) is.....it’s bad. No other way around it. They did NOT think that timeline through.

(3) I HATED Guinevere getting Morgana in the back with an arrow, but you know? That was yet another monkey’s paw situation, given that at least it wasn’t “Morgana falling for a very obvious ploy that she SHOULD have seen coming from a mile away if she wasn’t, as has been established, obsessed with Merlin’s dick.”

I will say that, reworking the plot so that Morgana’s obsessed with Merlin’s dick DID work out better in the sense that at least the Madonna/Whore complex with her and Guinevere isn’t really there: We no longer see Evil, Sexy Morgana VS Sweet Forest Maiden Guinevere, and Guinevere in this version of the musical is allowed to be much gutsier than her German counterpart. They did give her quite a bit of character as opposed to “Naive Girl who believes Arthur is The Best but finds out Wrong”. Now, that gutsiness flies out the window once she marries Arthur and is mainly confined to singing sad songs and stepping in between Arthur and Lancelot, but see above for Frankenstein’s Monster.

I will say that I did appreciate that this adaptation was willing to really give us a DEEPLY flawed Arthur; it’s something I’ve seen relatively little of post-White in terms of Arthurian adaptations, and it’s something I’ve missed. (Once Upon A Time’s Evil Arthur notwithstanding.) Arthur is really rarely allowed to BE a character in his own right, he has to be an Ideal™ or, if he’s a flawed character, flawed in an acceptable, palatable way; here, he’s an angry young man who’s shoved into a position that he’s not really qualified for and has to grow into it. He shoves people away, he shouts, he trusts Morgana too blindly, and he basically causes the Guinevere/Lancelot situation on his lonesome. It’s actually a little great to see.

BUT. But. Monkey’s paw. I LIKED seeing Arthur being a little bitch on occasion, but, for better or worse, he is our main character. And, outside of his bonding scenes with Guinevere and Lancelot early on, we really....don’t get to see that many scenes where he’s LIKABLE. There are a few moments (the scene where he tries to get Morgana to dance at his coronation is ADORABLE), but the first time we’re really introduced to him, he’s in a fight, he (understandably) snaps at Merlin, decides that, hey, being king might not be so bad, is fun for a little while, and then he spends a solid chunk of the second act being a dick because his father died. I don’t really know. I feel like this is going to be one of those things that I keep rolling over in my mind, as far as whether I REALLY like HIM as a main character, or whether I like those individual moments where he’s likable.

A part of me liked that we had, instead of the two siblings fighting during “Was Will Ich Hier”, we have Morgana and Arthur bonding. That sibling bond was, in my opinion, one of the more interesting possible dynamics in the show. But, unfortunately, the resulting conflict with Merlin felt very “been there, done that.” It’s more PLAUSIBLE than in cases where, say, the Enemy of the Week poses as a little girl and suddenly the main cast, who have known one another for twenty years, are suddenly slinging accusations against one another, but it STILL felt rather forced and predictable.

I was actually really grateful that we didn’t have the Morgana/Lot relationship in this particular production--Making Morgana an actual domestic abuse victim and then killing her off NEVER sat well with me, but as a result of that, now we have this situation where we have two more or less unconnected villains: Morgana and Wulfstan, and the plot only really needed one. Wulfstan, as a character, just....isn’t interesting. He’s a more or less generic “Barbarian Warlord” type who’s pissed Arthur killed his son and creeps on Morgana. I can’t REALLY say anything more there. Their plotlines intersect in the very beginning, when they capture Morgana and she guides them to Uther’s old castle, but other than that, there’s a general disconnect between them, and there’s no real PAYOFF to that. Instead, it just feels like it makes the plot needlessly busy.

One thing I’ve noticed, with both La Legende du Roi Arthur and XCalibur, is this pressure to fit as MUCH Arthurian in as possible, and as a result, the final musicals become rather crowded, so there’s no real time for DEVELOPMENT or substance.

“Okay, we have to have the pulling from the sword here!” “Right!” “Hm, Morgana le Fay is one of the most iconic antagonists, we probably need her there.” “Saxons?” “Sure!” “Everyone’s expecting Lancelot and Guinevere, we can’t not have them in there.”

I FEEL like XCalibur is LESS bogged down than LRA with regards to that factor, since the latter also threw in Maleagant as a secondary antagonist to Morgana and the Grail quest, but I still feel like XCalibur bit off more than it could really chew. Which is a pity, because there are Arthurian plot lines that have gotten comparatively little attention in recent days that you could include instead of going the “Paint By Numbers” route.

This also really shows in how it deals with certain plot lines, which are either dropped (Wulfstan V. Morgana), or come out of nowhere. This is REALLY obvious with Lancelot/Guinevere, which is a pity because I found myself, against my own will, rooting for them more than any other pairing in the show. Lancelot goes from a cocky lady’s man to...suddenly being smitten with Guinevere.....and then suddenly, after Guinevere is sad about Arthur being a dick, the two of them are fucking. Now, it would be NATURAL, as far as “Guinevere goes to Lancelot when she feels like Arthur’s being cold to her”, but we don’t SEE that. We literally cut from her in the forest, singing a sad song, and the next time we see them, they’re postcoital. It feels like it comes out of NOWHERE. My investment in them, as a couple, is more due to the strength of the two actors involved than the actual WRITING, which thinks that because the BEDROCK for something is there (”Oh, Guinevere beat Lancelot in combat! Oh, she feels neglected!”) that that means the house is there as well (”Oh, Guinevere beat Lancelot in common....so NOW he’s totally in love with her and is never going to flirt with another woman again. Oh, Guinevere is feeling abandoned by Arthur.......so we don’t NEED to see her going to Lancelot.”) They jump from Point A to point D and the audience is left with a sense of whiplash.

Some things, like Merlin’s actions re: Igraine and Uther, as well as Morgana, are just not explored to a depth that I would really find is satisfactory. “Oh, I did all these terrible things....because of Fate!” is something that we’re REALLY supposed to pull behind, but, given the pain to everyone involved, ESPECIALLY the women (Igraine, Morgana, and Guinevere ALL suffer from Destiny™), you have to REALLY wonder if there was literally anyone else who could have done it.

...so, really. BBC Merlin. BBC Merlin.

MOVING ON FROM MY SALT...as a medievalist, I was actually relatively happy that for ONCE in an Arthurian adaptation, the conflict between Christianity and paganism (WHICH HONESTLY WASN’T EVEN THAT MUCH OF A CONFLICT IN TERMS OF THE CELTIC WORLD, BUT MOVING ON) was presented as being pro-Christian. I’ve dealt with WAY too much media, in my time, that treats, say, 8th century Catholicism in Ireland the same as 16th century Catholicism in Spain, and NO. They were VERY distinct. I am saying this as a confirmed, happy atheist. They were distinct. I do not need or want The Mists of Avalon 10.0 on my screen, no thank you.

That being said...Monkey’s Paw. Monkey’s Paw. I was NOT happy to see the conflict presented as “Christianity taking over is Destined and Good, the Old Ways™ have had their time.” There’s this rather ugly fatalism that runs through it, along with the idea that followers of the pagan tradition HAD to die for Christianity to take its place. It’s...not my favorite thing in the world. Perhaps I’m simply unpleasable in this aspect, but there has GOT to be some medium between the two. Maybe this is my Medieval Irish Bias seeping through here, given that, with what I’m used to, the druids were mentioned in law books through the 8th century. I own this. (”But Rachel,” you might say, reasonably, “This isn’t 8th century Ireland”, to which I would of course say, “BUT IT SURE AS HELL ISN’T 6TH CENTURY WALES OR CORNWALL EITHER.”) Medieval people, historically, while they didn’t REALLY have religious tolerance as we know it, didn’t always see it in stark terms of “PAGANISM IN ONE CORNER, CHRISTIANITY IN ANOTHER”: They were, as a whole, FAIRLY good at integrating aspects of both in, even when they didn’t really mean to. The entire thing is just mangled horribly.

Anyway. Celtic Studies Salt Over.

Actors/Actresses: I’ll be honest, I was expecting, primarily, Morgana, Arthur, and Lancelot to pull the plot along, mainly because they get, together, most of the primary numbers, and because, in the German, Sabrina Weckerlin essentially carried the show on her back. As it was, Kim So Hyang’s Guinevere was the one who REALLY, in my opinion, ended up carrying the show. She had a wonderful voice, strong voice, and her Guinevere was able to make a full, smooth journey between a young, bold girl to the troubled wife of a troubled king to a woman wracked with regret. I’ve seen her in a lot of things, but I don’t think I really NOTICED her until now. She did some truly phenomenal work here, I was really glad, actually, that I got to see and appreciate her Guinevere. (Though, as a Min Kyung Ah fan....I would have LOVED to have seen her Guinevere.) She had great chemistry with both of her leads, lending credibility to both relationships, more than the script itself might really give.

Kai isn’t really an actor I ever really LOOK for in a musical, I wouldn’t say that I’m a MASSIVE fan, but that’s only because I don’t actively search for his stuff. Every time I’ve seen him in something, he’s been solid, and I did very much like him in the press calls. It does seem a little unfair that he got both the press calls AND the pro-shot, but c’est la vie. I did like his Arthur, he had a steady voice to back up the role, his acting was solid. Arthur, as a character, doesn’t REALLY stick out for me, but that isn’t HIS fault so much as the script’s, really, and my pre-built in bias towards Morgana. I didn’t find him to be REALLY likable in the role, very angry and sullen, but.....well. See above for my take on Arthur’s general likability here. I do think the man did the best with what he had, though I also feel like he’s more natural in Arthur’s dorkier, more relatable moments, especially with, say, Guinevere, Morgana, and Lancelot. (Though I’m not sure if that’s because I like Arthur as a CHARACTER more there or if I’m reacting to his ACTING in the role. This is one of those times where I’d have really liked to see Do Kyum or Junsu’s take on the role, since that would help me iron out what parts are the WRITING and what are the actor, but, lacking that, I’m going to err on the side of generosity.)  

Shin Young Sook....I WANTED to like her Morgana. I did. But, I’ll be blunt, even as far back as the press call, I was feeling Jang Eun Ah’s Morgana more, I was, definitely, feeling a little disappointed when the proshot cast list was announced. So, in some ways, the poor woman would have had to have done miracles to get me to REALLY warm up to her. And I didn’t really see miracles on the stage. Her voice remains reliable, she is a belter like few others on the Korean stage. I give her that. But her acting basically totally ruined the character for me. My issues with the role, as detailed in the “Plot” section, aside, I believe that the overall character COULD be salvaged, from an audience perspective, with a nuanced enough portrayal. But, when I saw this particular take on Morgana...I didn’t see MORGANA. I saw Shin Young Sook, Having Fun, instead of Morgana, as portrayed by Shin Young Sook. An actress having fun in a role can definitely be GREAT (Park Hye Na as Eva in Frankenstein is one role of hers I will cherish forever), but in this case, which required a lot of nuance to pull it off and make the villain sympathetic....it does clash when you can tell that she’s one step away from evilly cackling and releasing a final belt before running off the stage. There is a time to ham and there is a time to not, and this was one of the “not” roles. There came some point, perhaps during the song “Desire”, perhaps before it, that I actively started DREADING Morgana appearing on stage. I don’t KNOW that Jang Eun Ah would have done it better. She could have done it worse. But it is a tragedy of only having a single cast available that I will always wonder. I was disappointed here. I was really, really disappointed.

Kim Jun Hyun as Merlin was solid. It’s well known at this point that I have a soft spot for him, but for what it’s worth, on a comparative level, I feel like this role suited him much better than, say, Orléans in Marie Antoinette (where, personally, though still liking him, I found him a little too cold for my taste). He is appropriately distant and otherworldly, showing a human side and conflict as the musical continues. Is he enough to make me LIKE Merlin, as a character? Not really, given how many people suffer because of him and how little the narrative actually QUESTIONS it, but damned if he doesn’t try, and he does lend a subdued charisma to the character, to the point where I know that at least some people noticed him more than they did Arthur or Lancelot. I did think he had -40 chemistry with Shin Young Sook, but that could be because I was ALREADY attached to him and Jang Eun Ah’s chemistry in the press call, and that is not so much a failing on one actor’s side or the other’s (I want to emphasize this, because I do NOT have anything against Shin Young Sook SPECIFICALLY on this point), rather it’s something that can’t really be qualified. (And is entirely subjective, I’m sure that plenty of viewers saw NOTHING wrong.) For me, it did cause me to actively cringe at certain scenes, such as the “This is where your Arthur came from”......”seduction”.....scene.

“Lord....I actually have fewer problems saying no to this than you might think, nvmind.”

It COULD be that that’s the look of conflicting desire, but to me, personally, watching it, it rather looks like Merlin just realized that he forgot to turn the stove off at home. Which is a pity, because I was REALLY going in here expecting to like Merlin/Morgana more than the love triangle and instead found it to be very awkwardly handled. I haven’t ENTIRELY given up on it as a ship, in some abstract way that would involve another rewrite of the entire musical, but I can’t REALLY say that there’s. Anything I like about it either. And I think that if I was less stubbornly determined to find SOMETHING in it to like, I’m fairly certain I would be even more uncomfortable with it.

My final verdict: Watching this, despite some impressive visuals (though not QUITE to the same level as fellow Wildhorn musicals The Man Who Laughs, Dracula, and Mata Hari) and performances, I found myself continually wanting to go back to the cast album rather than actually WATCH the musical. Changes have been made since the German production, but I found that, while some of the changes definitely served to make a stronger musical, some of them actively weakened the show, and it's still a little too busy for its own good. I’m also not REALLY sure that the changes made really justified it being given the label World Premiere™, given the hype around it. If it was available for streaming again, would I do it? Yes, because it IS worth at least one watch and the industry NEEDS to do this more. If it was available to buy, even, for $20 or so, I would probably get it. But I’m not sure that, if it was for the~ $100 price that Toho musicals tend to sell for, I would seriously be able to say “Yes, get this”, and I’m not sure that, if an American/European tour of it was miraculously announced, I would REALLY bend over backwards to get tickets.

6/10

Tl;dr: “WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY SISTER?”

[sworntoprotect]

THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all had witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat. Long post!

MUN NAME: Pie     AGE: +25       CONTACT: IM, Ask, Discord (mutuals only, by request)

CHARACTER(S): Cullen

CURRENT FANDOM(S): Dragon Age

FANDOM(S) YOU HAVE AN AU FOR:  I have a modern verse for everything not Dragon Age, but I might add some actual alt verses for other fandoms

MY LANGUAGE(S): English (native), Spanish (intermediate), Korean (baby lol beginner), bits and bobs of other languages (namely French and French Patois)

THEMES I’M INTERESTED IN FOR RP: FANTASY / SCIENCE FICTION / HORROR / WESTERN / ROMANCE / THRILLER / MYSTERY / DYSTOPIA / ADVENTURE / MODERN / EROTIC / CRIME / MYTHOLOGY / CLASSIC / HISTORY / RENAISSANCE / MEDIEVAL / ANCIENT / WAR / FAMILY / POLITICS / RELIGION / SCHOOL / ADULTHOOD / CHILDHOOD / APOCALYPTIC / GODS / SPORT / MUSIC / SCIENCE / FIGHTS / ANGST / SMUT / DRAMA / ETC. (I started this and realised I’d be bolding almost everything, so: EVERYTHING)

PREFERRED THREAD LENGTH: ONE-LINER / 1 PARA / 2 PARA / 3+ PARA / NOVELLA. / ALL

ASKS CAN BE SEND BY: MUTUALS / NON-MUTUALS / PERSONALS / ANONS.

CAN ASKS BE CONTINUED?: YES / NO / OCCASIONALLY   - only by Mutuals?:  YES / NO

PREFERRED THREAD TYPE: CRACK / CASUAL / SERIOUS / DEEP AS HECK. / ALL

IS REALISM / RESEARCH IMPORTANT FOR YOU IN CERTAIN THEMES?:   YES / NO.

ARE YOU ATM OPEN FOR NEW PLOTS?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. (after my paper is submitted, yeah sure)

DO YOU HANDLE YOUR DRAFT / ASK - COUNT WELL?:  YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. (irl makes coping difficult sometimes)

HOW LONG DO YOU USUALLY TAKE TO REPLY?: 24H / 1 WEEK / 2 WEEKS / 3+ WEEKS / MONTHS / YEARS. / DEPENDS ON MOOD AND INSPIRATION, AND IF I’M BUSY 

I’M OKAY INTERACTING WITH: ORIGINAL CHARACTERS / A RELATIVE OF MY CHARACTER (AN OC) / DUPLICATES / CROSSOVERS / MULTI-MUSES / SELF-INSERTS / PEOPLE WITH NO AU VERSE FOR MY FANDOM / CANON-DIVERGENT PORTRAYALS / AU-VERSIONS.

DO YOU POST MORE IC OR OOC?: IC / OOC. (I strive for more IC over OOC, but my queue does a lot of work too)

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WITH FOLLOWING OTHERS?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.  

BEST WAYS TO APPROACH YOU FOR RP/PLOTTING:  Talk with me over IM, asks, or Disco. I’m down for almost anything as long as I see it’s feasible.

WHAT EXPECTATIONS DO YOU HOLD TOWARDS YOUR PLOTTING PARTNER:  Transparency. If you have an idea, let me know! If you’re stuck, let me know! If you want to start something new or scrap something or whatever...LET ME KNOW! I promise I don’t bite and I understand.

WHEN YOU NOTICE THE PLOTTING IS RATHER ONE-SIDED, WHAT DO YOU DO?:  I’m not very good with coming up with plots myself, so I’m typically the weak link when it comes to that. Sorry! But you bet I’ll pull up a plot generator and start throwing things down to see what sticks haha.

HOW DO YOU USUALLY PLOT WITH OTHERS, DO YOU GIVE INPUT OR LEAVE MOST WORK TOWARDS YOUR PARTNER?:  I’m all about equal opportunity, so I try not to leave the plotting work to my partner. Let’s negotiate and find something that makes both of us happy. That’s the point after all.

WHEN A PARTNER DROPS THE THREAD, DO YOU WISH TO KNOW?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. - AND WHY?: If you want to drop a thread, I’m completely fine with it. I want to know so that I don’t end up replying to something you have no interest in anymore. Saves both of us the time.

WHAT COULD POSSIBLY LEAD YOU TO DROP A THREAD?:  If drafts eat it (as they are wont to do these days) or if I feel it has reached a natural conclusion. I rarely, if ever, drop a thread in the middle. I’ll just let you know I’m going to finish it on my side and allow you a chance to finish on yours if you’d like.

WILL YOU TELL YOUR PARTNER?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS.

IS COMMUNICATION IN THE RPC IMPORTANT TO YOU? YES / NO. - AND WHY?: You don’t need to chat with me every minute of every day, but I like knowing the people I’m writing with. Discerning your personality and your approach to your muse gives me a much stronger understanding of how to write with you, and what vibes between us. Plus, it’s easier to remember different people’s boundaries if I talk with them a lot, too.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH ABSOLUTE HONESTY, EVEN IF IT MAY MEANS HEARING SOMETHING NEGATIVE ABOUT YOU AND/OR PORTRAYAL?: I am all for constructive criticism. Even if you think it’s nitpicky, it’s going to be a great help. Good crit allows us grow as writers and as people in general. However, I am not for baseless accusations, childish name-calling, or outright insults under the name of “constructive crit”. Remember the “constructive” part: we need to build each other up. 

DO YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE SUCH SITUATION IN A MATURE WAY? YES / NO.

WHY DO YOU RP AGAIN, IS THERE A GOAL?: I love a good story. While I don’t agree with everything Cullen does (and no one should, for anyone real or imagined), his story is intriguing. He’s a deeply flawed, deeply broken man. I love to take on a character, toss them in every situation I can think of, and watch them evolve and grow.

WISHLIST, BE IT PLOTS OR SCENARIOS:  A real redemption arc, for one. A realistic struggle with substance abuse and recovery. A future of happiness.

THEMES I WON’T EVER RP / EXPLORE:   Rape or sexual assault, unless being spoken about as a past event (as I truly believe that Cullen was sexually assaulted at Kinloch along with the other psychological and physical torture he endured). In-game racism is baked in, unfortunately, but it’s not something I seek out to roleplay as a PoC myself. Finally, while I play Cullen as canon-straight, I will not play out homophobia and most definitely not transphobia. If he rejects your muse for hitting on him, it’s not because he’s being homophobic: he’s just not interested. That also doesn’t mean he’ll never be interested; people can and do change, and I ship chemistry overall. He doesn’t hate your muse for their gender, orientation, or sexual preferences. I feel like I really have to spell this out for people who don’t understand. If you feel personally insulted by this somehow, feel free to address me directly, off anon. It’s probably an issue of fuzzy wording that I’m 500% willing to fix and talk about.

WHAT TYPE OF STARTERS DO YOU PREFER / DISLIKE, CAN’T WORK WITH?: I love starters that set the scene and provide plenty to work with, be it in terms of interacting with the environment or with the other person. If your muse shows immediate disinterest in communicating (and I don’t mean argumentative, which is perfectly fine), I am not going to respond. I might politely ask for more if I feel like it’s a salvageable interaction.

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE MOST?:  Stoic soldier types, bubbly short girls, and semi-mad scientists.

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE LEAST?:  Characters that come across as Mary-Sue / Gary-Stu types. No flaws and barely any room to grow. 

WHAT ARE YOUR STRONG ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: I'm very easy-going and I have an unearthly level of tolerance for almost everything. I try to provide partners with as much to work with as possible IC, and will pretty much support your very existence OOC. I believe in open communication so you’ll know what’s going on with me and/or our threads. Also, I typically reply within a week or two. Currently I’m tethered to finishing a big paper so I’m not a good example of that right now.

WHAT ARE YOUR WEAK ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: I can get overwhelmed by too much which slows my pace down considerably. I’m also a bit distant and do shut down on occasion; that’s usually no fault of my partners, though. Just my brain being a dick.

DO YOU RP SMUT?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. (the closer we are OOC, the easier getting here will be)

DO YOU PREFER TO GO INTO DETAIL?: YES / NO / DEPENDS. (it’s not going to be XXX but it will be descriptive)

ARE YOU OKAY WITH BLACK CURTAIN, FADE TO BLACK?: YES / NO.

WHEN DO YOU RP SMUT? MORE OUT OF FUN OR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT?: I prefer to write smut for character development and to mark a progression in a relationship. Plus Cullen is not a “one and done” guy so getting to the smut stage will take a bit of build-up.

ANYTHING YOU WOULD NOT WANT TO RP THERE?:  Hmmm things that he personally wouldn’t go for I guess? Honestly I don’t know. And obviously, no rape/animal abuse/predator nonsense.

ARE SHIPS IMPORTANT TO YOU?:   YES / NO Ships are a great way to further explore a character and their motivations. People do not exist in pure isolation, so I don’t believe characters should, either.

WOULD YOU SAY YOUR BLOG IS SHIP-FOCUSED?: YES / NO. I bolded both because the focus of the blog isn’t ships, but this thirst trap guy is really easy to ship with other people I tell ya hwat. I am severely picky with romantic ships for Reasons, but I don’t eschew any other types of ships. I encourage them!

DO YOU USE READ MORE?:  YES / NO / SOMETIMES WHEN I WRITE LONG STUFF.

ARE YOU:  MULTI-SHIP / SINGLE-SHIP / DUAL-SHIP  —  MULTIVERSE / SINGLEVERSE.

WHAT DO YOU LOVE TO EXPLORE THE MOST IN YOUR SHIPS?: Characters who challenge Cullen into revising his point of view and force him to be a better person. Also, characters who understand his past and they are in no ways obligated to forgive it, but do recognise that he’s struggling very hard to mend whatever mistakes he can and is willing to pay the price for his decisions.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.  - Be a good salesperson and I might buy it.

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- WHAT COULD POSSIBLY MAKE YOUR MUSE INTERESTING TOWARDS OTHERS, WHY SHOULD THEY RP WITH THIS PARTICULAR CHARACTER OF YOURS NOW, WHAT POSSIBLE PLOTS DO THEY OFFER?: Cullen is a massive stick in the mud, which means it’s incredibly easy to taunt him and get him flustered all at the same time. He’s loyal, he’s intelligent, and he’s largely self-aware. He likes swords and using them. Anything your character hates about him, he most likely hates about himself 100 times more.

WITH WHAT TYPE OF MUSES DO YOU USUALLY STRUGGLE TO RP WITH?:  Those from the start that show absolutely no interest in speaking with/interacting with him. Mun and muse are going to struggle to stick around. I’m not going to fight for attention and neither is he.

WHAT DO THEY DESIRE, WHAT IS THEIR GOAL?:  Redemption. He wants to be a better person and make up for the past as much as he can.

WHAT CATCHES THEIR INTEREST FIRST WHEN MEETING SOMEONE NEW?:  He can sniff out a fellow Templar a mile away (or several miles, in the case of Samson). 

WHAT DO THEY VALUE IN A PERSON?:  Honesty, a strong will, devotion (not necessarily to the Maker or the Chantry, but to a just cause that focuses on protecting others).

WHAT THEMES DO THEY LIKE TALKING ABOUT?:  War stuff, chess, books, trebuchets, dogs.

WHICH THEMES BORE THEM?:  Lectures about anything. He did his time in Azkaban in the Circles. No more. Please no more.

DID THEY EVER WENT THROUGH SOMETHING TRAUMATIC?:  His parents died trying to escape the Blight, he was tortured for weeks/months on end by blood mages, almost all of his friends died because of it, he was manipulated and brainwashed by his superior, he was forced into a near-debilitating substance addiction by his workplace... yeah just a few things.

WHAT COULD LEAD TO AN INSTANT KILL?:  Darkspawn and abominations. 

IS THERE SOMEONE /-THING THEY HATE?:  Darkspawn and abominations. Blood mages on principle. Regular mages (but he’s working hard to remedy this extremely bad and prejudiced thinking). Himself.

IS YOUR MUSE EASY TO APPROACH?: YES / NO.    - BEST WAY TO APPROACH THEM?:  Just be polite and he won’t turn you away. He’s guarded, yes, but not impossible to talk to.

SOMETHING YOU MAY STILL WANT TO POINT OUT ABOUT YOUR MUSE?: You’ll find out by writing together! ;D

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

tagged by: pirated tagging: anyone who actually read this

[laughing-with-god]

My Kpop Unpopular Opinons

The ‘K’ in Kpop is there for a reason....

It stands for Korean. Not American. I might be the only one who gets annoyed by how much Kpop groups are outsourcing to America. Mainly BTS since they got the farthest. But it honestly has become such a poisonous thing to me. I am half Korean and my family is very patriotic of their beautiful country. And it’s almost a colonization mindset or cultural appropriation to take a countries’ gem (such as Kpop) and demand it be taken over to YOUR country, to demand that idols learn YOUR language, to say that because Bts got praise in America they MUST be the best Kpop group. Is America the only country that matters? Should new Kpop groups try hard to appeal to Americans while their fellow Koreans take a back burner? Why can’t you let Korea have its own thing and enjoy it without trying to make it into something that’s easier for you to digest?

Stop Supporting Youtube Channels who are Using Kpop for Clout

The Talko, Watch mojo, Reaction channels and even fucking TRISHA PAYTAS. Youtubers be using Kpop for clout bc they know it’s gotten popular lately. But you hoes are the demand to the supply. STOP GIVING THESE HOES CLICKS. on a regular day, you’d hate a fake fan but are all ready to watch some YouTuber who ran out of ideas use BTS to get some views. And the info that The Talko And Watch mojo use isn’t even groundbreaking! They’d be like “did you know that Suga’s real name is Yoongi?” sis....no. Support Kpop news sites that actually are about the Korean industry as a whole and not just getting your view by using BTS.

We need to talk about the Kpop industry being ‘problematic’ and ‘slave contracts’

Idols signed up for this lifestyle. They signed up for restricted freedom, dieting, practicing a lot and working almost 24/7. Am I saying it’s right? Not necessarily...I think if an idol is fainting, very underweight and not getting their 8 hours every night then obvi the company/management needs to be handled. But we need to calm the witch hunt for some companies bc your oppa/unnie is fully aware what their career entails. And instead of coming for SM or any particular company, strive for reformation of the whole industry.

Idols are sometimes problematic....and we need to call it out

This is mainly aimed towards the problematic comments some idols have made about skin tone. I’ve seen a lot of people become upset by Wendy’s blackcent or the blackface history of Mamamoo’s past and they have every right to be. A lot of fans come to their defense and say things like “in Korea, pale skin is valued more than dark skin. (Idol name) just didn’t know better.” Well...if they didn’t know better then we should teach them better! And don’t attack other fans who are genuinely hurt about the comments/actions. I watched an unpopular opinion video and they said “people who are quick to call an idol problematic are annoying.” I’m sorry but who are you to tell someone what they can and cannot be offended by? Esp when there are TONS of black/dark skinned Kpop fans whose very skin was just insulted....

Anaylsis videos/posts about your fav otp is problematic.

Calm down. It could be real and it could not be. I already talked about this on my blog before so I’m not gonna beat a dead horse. But you’re forcing a narrative to satisfy your little fantasy.

BTS SHOULD GET MILLITARY TIME LIKE EVERYONE ELSE

In Korea, every man has to serve millitary time. It’s downright disrespectful to cherry pick a guy bc he’s famous and exempt him from his duties. Really? How the fuck should the rest of the Korean male population in boot camps feel that Jungkook got to skip his time bc he just so happens to have tons of fangirls who want to hop on his dick? Does fame get you everywhere? Is that the message you want to spread? Disgusting. If I see that in my feed, I’m blocking you hoes.

2NE1 and Big Bang ran so BlackPink and Bts could walk.

New Kpop fans want to act like Black Pink and BTS invented the fucking wheel. Wrong. Big Bang was a big inspiration to Bts and they were part of the first bridge between the western world and Kpop. Without Big Bang, Kpop wouldn’t be as big in America/other western countries as it is now. And if that didn’t happen, then Bts would loose the majority of its fan base now. And black pink is literally a copy of 2ne1, it’s not the girls fault but YG itself who knew they lost a big girl group. 2NE1 literally invented the girl crush concept and also made big leaps in the western world. Give credit where it’s due. Thank you, next.

Seungri shouldn’t have quit being an idol, he should’ve quit his businesses.

His businesses were the reason his whole scandal began. I’m not saying I was going to support him if he continued making music but like to come out and say “everyone, as punishment I’m quitting being an idol instead of the businesses that actually caused all this drama!” is the most un self-aware response.

If you stan one group, you aren’t a Kpop stan.

Korean Pop. Not BTS pop. Not BlackPink pop. Not EXO pop. Sis.....it’s like saying you know Spanish bc you can say ‘hola’. That’s a MOLESCULE to what the genre actually holds.

Big Hit not Allowing girl trainees is highkey sexist.

Yes, I’m aware of what happened to the one girl group that came from Big Hit. But honestly that’s a funny excuse. One bad thing happened and now he’s gonna ban all females? I remember this tweet that resided with me about the Empire actor faking a hate crime. It said “If one faked hate crime is enough to make you question and judge all the others....it’s almost as if you were looking for an excuse all along.” (Paraphrased.) all I’m saying is all women aren’t evil so why are the rest of inspiring girls wanting to be an idols getting punished?

Ladies, we need to treat our fellow women better.

I want to see more support for girl idols. I want us to raise them so they can be at the same level as some of these boy groups. I know we find Bts, Got7, NCT, Exo ect to be very handsome and charming but we shouldn’t abandon other women for the sake of pretty boys. Let’s hype them up. Girl groups can be talented too and we would want support if we were them. Feminists where are you when we need you??

NCT’s concept is a flop.

People don’t wanna stan a group whose members are endless and always changing. We want a group that we can relax with, grow with and truly form a bond with. This is unable to do when we constantly are seeing new faces and trying to remember names.

(This is not at all forced on anyone but I want to see some ppl’s unpopular opinions. @goldngguk @chimchimsauce @yn-dere @yeollie-yeollie if you guys wanna share any pls do, I’m all ears and tag me in it.)

[triptripletrolls]

The Two Schools of Thought for Fiction and my thoughts, the realization, and the journey that I will forever be on

“Fiction =/= Real Life” vs “Fiction Impacts the Real World”

Those are the two arguments that I kept seeing popping up every once in a while. I was on the side of the “Fiction =/= Real Life” and I didn’t understand how any fictional media can be bad in real life. After all, we all have heard of parents blaming games for turning their kids bad, movies creating evil people, books causing women to run from their husband, blah blah blah blah blah. I was kind of exaggerating there but I’m sure people have seen those kinds of arguments before. The blame on fiction, to me, was silly. The stories I heard with these arguments usually have an underlying human problem that needed to be solved, but instead of realizing the actual problem of that person's trouble they use fiction as a scapegoat. Shifting blame is, after all, easier than owning up to one's fault.

Another reason why I heavily supported the "Fiction =/= Real Life" side and did not understand the other side of the fiction argument was because of the victims of abuse and how some of them would use fictions to cope with their past. Let me be brief about this point for a moment and come back to this later. I was sympathetic to the victim and tried to be empathetic to their past pain and to the pain that they may feel at present. Who am I to say that they cannot do this or that when their life was already once controlled by another person, in bad hands. They (the victims) have a fucked up life, so let them be and let them cope with their trauma however they can. That was what I thought.

For me personally, fiction was a means of escape from my own head where I thought I was rotted alive and crippled from depression. Yes, that was a pretty dramatic description of what my past mental state was, but that was the feeling I remember and I have not forgotten that feeling so that I may tap into it and empathize with others now that I have grown. The dark thought still lingers to this day, but I think life is nice and I like to think that I have moved past the thought of wanting to kill myself. That sentiment is something I want everyone to have and sometimes I wanna help that in others, as draining as it is.

Fiction was not the only help I had with depression, of course, but it did play a role. Fiction kept my brain thinking of worlds fantastical than my own. Imagination was fun; I could be anyone and do anything I like. I've enjoyed fiction by myself for a long time, but when I realized that I can have fun with others who also like make-believe. It was like a whole new world for me. So my thought at that point was “How could fiction that did so good to me be bad and have real-world consequences outside of my head?”

My view shifted recently when I was able to connect the argument for “Fiction Impacts the Real World” to me personally, outside of my head in a real tangible example. I am a Korean born in Canada. Growing up Asian in a North American society, representation of my race was lacklustre or very stereotypical. Of course, I had the Korean media to turn to, but I identify myself as a Canadian more than a Korean and I grew-up all before the Korean Wave became a phenomenon in North America. When the wave did hit my city, it hit hard, but by then I was already in High School and I thought that all of this hype was overrated and just a fab. Just because I am a Korean, it didn't mean that I would suddenly embrace the Korean wave into my life. But now that I think about it, representations and fiction were two key thoughts that I need to start understanding the “Fiction Impacts the Real World”.

There was a podcast that I was listening to sometime this Spring, and the topic was about Asian representation in the mainstream media in America. My memories have yet again failed to remember what the exact podcast I was listening to but the people talking were all Asian Americans. Regular people just like me. They were talking casually, about the recent movies, like Crazy Rich Asians, and TV shows, like Fresh Off The Boat. The group of people that I was listening to expressed their amazement in these movies and shows in present times when they were growing up there really wasn't any movies and shows that had this many Asians. This is an expression I can relate to. At some point in the podcast, someone mentioned that in order for Asians to continue to get good representation in media, we need good stories that we can fill. Stories, as in fiction, and that was when it clicked.

There is still a lot of things in this world that I have yet to experience and I have a lot to learn even though I'm in my late 20s. I still think that being an adult is hard, a thought that I think many adults can relate to. Accepting new things is a process and while I still lean towards the “Fiction =/= Real Life,” I now know better. I know that fiction is important not only in the mind but also in the real world. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to come to this conclusion but hey, I'm glad I'm at this place now. Go me :p

Now here is the topic that I said I'll come back to. I know that this particular subject is really controversial in this community but I cannot ignore the consequences that this topic had on the community that I so love and to the friendships I once had.  

Let me be very clear. There is no argument that CP is very bad. The sexual act against children no matter their age by an adult is despicable. CP in its nature is the exploitation of vulnerable children whose innocence of life and wonders are ripped away from selfish adults who are just thinking with their dicks, literal and metaphorical dicks. Adults are supposed to be protecting children. Adults are supposed to nurture and be a role model, but these vile sex offenders used their adult status for their own greed. CP is bad and this what I truly believe for a long time, even before any drama that has happened in this community.

What I did not know, or even thought of until reading ladytrollfishes' addition to glowtroll's post, is that there are adults who would actively expose pedophilic fiction to the children in order to do harm. This was huge news for me. I was enraged when I first read that and that could actually happen, How dare they taint the fiction I love and use it to manipulate the impressionable minds. I was aware of the pedophilic ships when I was consuming a large amount of anime as a child but those ships weren't my thing and I never thought anything of it. In all honesty, there were actually a couple of ships in animation between a child and adult that I thought was cute when I saw pretty fanart of it. However, after the epiphany of adults exposing children to problematic ships with the goal of real life CP, I am distraught by my own previous thought and grossed out by those adults.

When I said that I sympathize with victims of abuse, I still believe that I should give the victims my compassion. I understand the need to express the inexplicable pain that the victim may be feeling. To validate their own self and convince themselves that all is okay. However, like what ladytrollfishes said, there is an audience. The kind of adults I hate may use a victim's work of fiction feeding into the cycle of abuse. To sum up this particular subject of victims creating fiction as a coping mechanism, please do it privately and if you must share, do so with those you truly trust.

These are some of the thoughts that were plaguing my brain for a while. I usually don’t like sharing my personal baggage and thoughts like this, but this community has gone through a lot of drama and thoughts and opinions has been let loose. I didn’t really know where my head was, and with my own stuff going on around the same time, I think writing this out on paper and then having another thought during the typing, really has sorted out my thoughts. There are still a ton of other stuff that I want to let my feelings out, but right now, this is good for now.

[its-sweetnspicy-posts]

SMH

I’m gonna rant for a minute about a particular blog some of you kpop fans may heard of: Kmusicandblackwomen. And before you reply with death threats or insults, if you do not agree with me then block me or report me. Whatever you feel like you need to do because I ain’t got time to argue with no one! Now what urks me is that people are not only still supporting this person but still think her content is acceptable. First, the fan-service you see say like GOT7 giving to fans esp. blacks are only that. They get paid to woo us like they do with every other fan. Also the reason why they pay special attention to black girls is probably because…IDK…they don’t interact with a lot of black people back in their home country. Now let’s be honest, just because they say they like celebs like Beyonce, Rihanna, or Tinashe doesn’t mean they like all black women. Another thing I noticed is that most (not all Koreans or any other Asian men) are attracted and may want to date us black women but not for potential marriage but for “fun”…yes sex. If he is interested in you only because you are anything but Korean he is NOT gonna take you home to meet his momma! He’s only interested in gettin’ his dick wet. I don’t know  if the person that runs the blog and  channel ever even had experience with Korean men, but you are in for a rude awakening if you think they are any different from the men here in the U.S. or wherever you live. Remember a man is a man before he is Korean, White, etc. Now for those of you that say “Oh it’s just for fun” “it’s entertainment” to defend her, she may have that intention but that’s not how it is being seen. Actions speak louder than words. Based on all of her contents it seems like she has some kind of obsession with Asian men. I get that she wants to spread positive vibes about  this and all, but hunty, this is not a very good way of doing it. There have been a few Youtube vids that have explained this but instead got a lot hate to the point one had to put it private.  I do not have any hatred towards her or anything so don’t come for me. I just want to state some facts and bring you all into the real world with the truth. From one black kpop fan to another. <3

[theycallme-tunathot]

Ahhhhhhh I started cheese in the trap (from your mention with habaek) and it's got all my favorites in one drama!!!!! Have any more recommendations?

As far as Kdramas go, I’m still super new and finding shows to watch. Here is a rundown of some amazing ones that I’ve found. 

I’m omitting some, just because I feel like everyone talks about them and they’re so popular you might’ve heard of them or seen them. Shows like Goblin: the Lonely and Great God, Strongwoman Do Bong Soon, Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bokjoo, Coffee Prince. If you haven’t watched any of these, they are definitely worth watching.

Age of Youth (Hello My Twenties)

So many good things to say about this show. Mainly, it deals with five girls who live in a shared home. I know that I can pinpoint all these characters in my own life and I even was able to say “Wow, I’m her!” Super funny, moments of genuine tears and over all so much fun. The penis party episode is probably the best.

Descendants of the Sun

I typically don’t watch military-related anything. It’s a theme that’s so overused in American cinema that I’m really over it. BUT, this is about Korean military and the first ten minutes sold it. Idk, this was seriously the biggest surprise for me and I was pleased to go from one episode to the next.

Scarlet Heart: Ryeo

Besides having an insanely attractive cast, Baekhyun and IU are just...amazing. Simply put, this was the third drama I ever watched and I remember staying up until 5 a.m. watching this show every weekend. And I don’t binge watch anything. But I binged this. This drama is so good that my mother couldn’t sleep one night and she came out to the living room while I was watching it and she stayed up with me until 5 a.m. just to watch with me. Soon, she got addicted and the rest is history. It has such beautifully fleshed out characters, Baekhyun was amazing which led me to doing research on him and finding out he was in EXO. Also, my baby Ji Soo is in this and he kills every scene he’s in. Best scene by far is the water ritual.

The Heirs

I debated adding this since it’s such a popular drama, BUT I’ve watched my mom watch this show in its entirety at least six times since we first started it back in May. Also, I just really love the cast. They make their characters so lovable. Even with a dick character like Youngdo, Kim Woobin does so much with him and it’s just...touching. Also, there’s a song in here by Homme called “Love is the Moment” and let me tell you...heartstrings will be pulled.

Legend of the Blue Sea

Alright, another Lee Minho show, but my mom, sister and I are huge fans of him. This show was a surprise because I was almost certain this would be a bit too cartoonish for me, but it’s so interesting. It deals with a guy who scams to make a living and a mermaid crossing paths. This holds my second favorite female leads. I also really enjoyed exploring Lee Minho’s character background. AND THE TWISTS! Oh my god the twists. BONUS: Park Jinyoung of GOT7 is in this and you get to see him get kissed and be surprised about it, cry and get into a fight. Over all, an enjoyable watch.

She was Pretty

So let’s talk about this drama. While the first six episodes are painful to get through mainly because I found it so hard to sympathize with the leading woman (she’s so loud and incompetent and I really understood why almost everyone was annoyed with her), it pays off to be patient with this show. Not to mention, this has Siwon of Super Junior in it as well as beautiful man Park Seojoon. The lead actress, Hwang Jungeum, redeems herself really well and helps tell a very relatable story about how insecurities can be a crippling thing.

Hwarang

Now, in no way am I saying anyone should watch a drama just because the cast is handsome or good-looking or anything like that. BUT rarely does a cast look this fucking good? It’s almost angering at times. Not only do we have the beautiful Choi Minho from SHINee, but V from BTS is in this as well as Park Seojoon and the man my mom will marry me off to eventually, Park Hyungsik (he played CEO Ahn in Strongwoman Do Bong Soon). The cast is just too good looking not to at least stop and think about a little watch right? Anyway, it’s got a really interesting plot with pretty interesting characters, the only problem is the show focuses too much on the least interesting characters Dog-Bird and the sister of his dead friend, Aro. That, and the plot kind of drags in the middle and there are frustrating roadblocks (at least in my opinion) where it’s obvious and almost natural to give the king-in-hiding a shot to show his leadership skills and kind of shine in really subtle ways but instead, they use it as a chance to bolster Dog-Bird and remind you how good he is at practically everything. The ending might be worth the frustration, but these handsome faces DEFINITELY make following this show to the bitter end worth it, in my opinion.

Fight My Way

Okay, so this has to be my third-favorite drama I’ve seen thus far. It’s got so much heart and I’m surprised it ran on Korean television, to be honest. It challenges a lot of the messages and lessons that Koreans are taught and encouraged to follow if they want to lead happy, productive lives. It almost felt more American with some of the messages of following dreams and not caring what others think. Some of the situations the characters are found in are INCREDIBLY TOO REAL. There’s a scene in particular where Dongman (played by Park Seojoon...yes another drama with him) is being cursed and yelled at in the middle of a Seoul street in broad daylight by his boss. He’s saying all kinds of berating things to him while people just passed. When Aera, the leading woman, catches a woman stealing and is made to do something HUMILIATING just because the woman she caught is a high-roller customer. I’ve SEEN these kinds of situations happen in my own life. Don’t sleep on this drama. Also, the most romantic scene I think I’ve ever seen in a kdrama is what’s happening in the gif above. Like, I cried myself when he promised to hide her while she cried. As a girl who hates to cry, even when alone in her room, this is probably the most caring thing any guy can do for me. I also found myself in love with the storyline for Juman and Seoulhui, the two other leading characters in this.

[lunch-date]

Childish Wars: Chapter 1

WORK BY: Admin Tea

DATE PUBLISHED: 03.26.17 [REVISED: 04.22.17]

WORD COUNT: 3,399 Words [REVISED: 6,686 Words]

Summary:

In which, high school love is emphasized as invigorating or simply shitty.

A buff sophomore has weekly crushes, a junior honour student just wants to graduate, one thinks he doesn’t have a jawline, and a taekwondo student is thinking about learning how to paint.

Meanwhile, a swimmer just wants to pursue her passion, one wants to be swallowed by her bed, another is tired of doing chores, and the freshman just thought she could finally be blessed with a good love-life.

[The following notes below are found in both Tumblr and AO3 where the author has decided to post the story]

Disclaimer:

If you are viewing this story, this means that you know that this is a fan-made story— it has never happened nor will it ever happen; unless fate decides to play its cards graciously.

Since it is a fan-made story, it consists of characters that are actually based off real people. Characters are based off a group named SEVENTEEN who are idols working under PLEDIS entertainment of South Korea and some supporting characters are based off other idols/groups/actors from South Korea and Japan respectively. Some of course (a few antagonists for example) are legitimately made out of thin air.

Meanwhile, some characters are based off real fans (some with altered names or aliases) that the author personally knows.

Author’s Notes:

Setting is not in South Korea despite most characters coming from that country— in fact, it is placed in Japan. The author chose to set it in such since she did not want the readers to complain of her lack of knowledge of South Korea— considering she has never been to Korea and is only knowledgeable in Japan’s setting and history and whatnot.

Instead of using Korean Honorifics that the Kpop fans are used to (hyung, noona, etc.), Japanese Honorifics are used— the decision was done through a votation and evaluation from the author’s friends (some friends are Korean and Japanese) of which honorifics sound better with random or foreign names.

If you are to continue reading the story as it updates, please take note that there will be no trigger warnings for scenes that will be released in the future (if you notice, the author is not tagging any of the SEVENTEEN boys into the posts on Tumblr to avoid catching the eyes of possible stupid bashing predators)— which means that she trusts you can take/tolerate whatever content that may appear.

The author would also like you to take note that the start of the story will be a bit dreary and slow. She doesn’t want to rush anything at all especially since her writing is a bit rusty from the past hiatuses.

Swearing in the story is slightly inevitable.

Please be warned if you are to bash (like send hate mail to our blog or the author’s posts on AO3 and say that character like this should die or anything immature) any of the characters (or if you find their base-offs in real life and bash them) in the story, you will get not just a piece of the author’s my mind, but her fist and code breaking skills.

If you are not comfortable with anything written above, you are free to leave the site

  This is the past 

Or a sound effect THUD

“I am speaking in Japanese.” (the language they use throughout the story)

“I am speaking in another language.” Or “I am speaking in another language which is why it’s italicized in the middle of a sentence maybe (even just simple emphasizing something) but its Japanese again since it’s normal text again.”

‘I am thinking.’

And no when ‘Iyaa’ or ‘Aiyaa’ is typed, the author does not mean ‘Iie’ (no in Japanese), it is an expression most Japanese do, it doesn’t necessarily mean anything.

Chapter 1

  Déjà vu

(Noun)

Tedious familiarity

A feeling of having already experienced a situation happening at present

 “Hi,” Her eyes darted from one student to another.

She didn’t think it would be this bad— the classroom was practically eighty percent male.

“I’m Avilla Tara. I’m a dancer—“cue a long and low whistle.

She stiffened.

“—a-a swimmer, and an artist…”

A few snickered.

“You think she can draw dicks?”

Her gaze landed on the teacher up front, whose eyes glared daggers at the student seated behind her; ready to scold him.

Ready to retort before the teacher could rebuke the offender, Tara—

THUD

“Fuck—!“

The classroom fell silent.

Tara’s head snapped to the shout of distress. The student who sat two seats behind her held his head and lowered it on his desk, clearly in pain.

When did she get in?

Several heads were already turned towards the source of commotion, eyeing a small girl who turned her head slightly towards the student’s direction. She blinked slowly, her finger pretending to scratch on her messy short hair.

“Whoops.”

The girl pulled the loose strap of her bag back up, making sure it was securely hanging on her shoulder.

“My strap slipped,” she shrugged. “Sorry for being late sensei.”

She continued walking to the back of the room, ignoring the whispers that came from the male populace. The homeroom teacher merely shook her head, her small smile of hilarity going unnoticed by the class. Another girl seated at the back pushed her glasses back up before yanking her bag that she had placed on her neighbouring seat before the girl who had just arrived promptly situated herself in the desk saved for her.

A cough.

And the room fell silent once again.

“All right, thank you Tara, you may be seated. Next please.”

Little-by-little, the students’ attention diverted to the next student assigned to introduce himself, their whispers dying down. However, as Tara sat down, she couldn’t help but smile at the girls who were laughing quietly to themselves at their previous act.

“I think I just died…” Alth mutters to no one in particular as she bends her head backwards and shuts her eyes.

It was only the second day since her high school life started and she already felt completely drained. Truthfully, nothing much had even happened during the first day; just batch, homeroom, and club orientations.

But today?

Her class had just finished their third diagnostic test.

“I entered high school to learn more— not to have my elementary days tested.” Alth shut her eyes tighter, seeing flashes of white occupy the darkness in her vision.

It was that time of the school year where you had to socialize and form groups; whatever groups you would form would most probably be the group you would stick with till the end of the year. Usually Alth would take this time to befriend and get-to-know the people in a class she enters to steadily fit-in and feel like she belonged in a group of peers— temporary or not. She wouldn’t want to feel left out if there were projects that allowed the students to form their groups by friends.

“Hey.”

Though it was tough.

“Heeeey.”

It wasn’t like there was an equal number of girls in the classroom; in fact, there were only 10 girls in the room. Normally, you’d befriend someone of the same gender, right?

“Hey!”

Startled, her body jerks forward onto her desk, nearly toppling it over if it weren’t for her hands tightly grasping on the corners of her table.

“Oh, sorry!” Alth’s head whips backwards at the apology given to her.

“Uhh,” He pauses, his mouth slightly open. “My paper.” He gives it to her. “Sorry.”

Alth takes it, her gaze on him unwavering. When he started writing on his notebook, Alth blinks slowly and faces the board once again, asking the student in front of her to pass the paper that had been left behind.

“Hey.”

She looks over her shoulder again at the sound of his voice and her mouth was trying its best not to ask if he was that kid she saw during enrollment who sported an absurd haircut.

“Y-Yeah?” Way to seem nervous or extremely stiff.

“There was one number in the test… Part two, vocabulary…”

He was definitely the kid— she would never forget the face of someone who had their hair cut like some hatched egg or whatever it may have been.

“What about it?”

Now that she thought about it, his hair back then looked like a duck’s butt with some of the hair sticking out oddly at the back.

“I think it was number thirteen: a group or system in which positions of power are ranked; usually from lowest to highest,” he stops, and Alth felt her lungs take a break— he talked too fast.

Not that his hair was any better now.

“The answer’s ‘higher key’ right?”

It was a shocking colour of orange, not to mentioned it wasn’t tamed, standing tall like some grass on a lawn.

“What.” She fully turns her chair to him, ignoring the fact that the teacher was still up front— it wasn’t like he was lecturing anyway.

“I answered ‘higher key’ what about you?”

Alth had to recall for a moment what the test type was.

“Y…eah. Same.”

The boy suddenly beamed and she was taken aback for just a moment with her heart skipping a beat.

“Great! Hopefully I get a passing score at least.” He sighs, sinking into his seat as he leans back. “My name’s Chan by the way. Lee Chan.”

“Ah,” her hand twitches, almost extending to him, a bad habit she kept in her old school filled with westerners. She nods slightly, her lips forming a smile. “I’m Althea, Althea Lora.”

“Nice meeting you~” Chan nods vigorously, “You think you did well during the test? It was pretty hard, I even heard you grumbling a bit.”

She felt her cheeks flush, “ah, I think I did? It’s my first language after all.”

“Yaa, you’re lucky then,” he pouts a bit. “It’s just my third language so I’m still having a hard time coping.” He clenches his teeth and shakes his head a bit furiously.

“I could help you during English Class if you want.”

“Thanks! The next teacher’s here.” He smiles once more after whispering, then gets up from his seat, greeting the teacher who had just arrived.

Alth did the same, turning her back at him and sitting back down with the rest of the class afterwards.

Alth realized…

when Chan said ‘higher key’, she hoped he meant ‘hierarchy’.

The test type was an identification type after all.

RIIIING

“Jihoon!”

Without looking up, Jihoon mutters a quiet “Ahh?”. He closes his notebook, takes his pen and keeps it in his case.

The rest of the class do the same or merely leave their belongings scruffily on their tables as they exit the classroom, heading out for their morning break.

“I forgot to tell you. There’s a new convenience store, it’s on block 7’s lot.”

Jihoon stops writing on his memo for a moment. He watches Jeonghan who takes a seat to his right, thanking their classmate who allowed him to sit.

“…What about it?”

“I got a flyer that talks about its ice cream and smoothie promos. Wanna pass by sometime?”

“It’s not open yet, is it?”

“Nope, it’s going to open in a month.” Jeonghan’s eyes linger behind his friend. “Maybe in less than a month now actually. I got the flyer last week before class started.”

“Ahh.”

“Aubs, it’s lunch already.”

Jihoon stops his writing once more at the sound of shuffling behind him. The girl behind him groggily moves her head from her folded arms. She takes a peek to her left, and Jeonghan who had been staring at her this whole time, averts his attention back to Jihoon who resumed his writing again.

Bree—who didn’t actually notice Jeonghan’s stare due to her blurred vision—takes a peek to her right this time. Tara stands beside her table (coming from a crouch after picking her friend’s bentou bag from the floor), her own bentou bag hanging by her shoulder and her small sketchpad tucked in her arm.

“… I fell asleep?”

“I saw you purposely lie your head down; you don’t even have your notebook out.”

Bree hums at the statement and Tara sighs.

“I wouldn’t be able to anyway. The teacher didn’t use visuals.”

“It’s okay; I’ll lend you my notes.”

“Thank you.” Bree mutters and finally pulls her head up.

The two girls took their leave, muttering to themselves, and Jeonghan pulls the chair he sat on closer to Jihoon’s seat.

“You poor thing.” Jeonghan chuckles at Jihoon who raises a brow at him. “You just had to be assigned to sit in front of the dragon lady.”

“She’s just a seatmate.”

“Yeah but we’re stuck with her till next year.”

“Is the implementation for real?”

“Yup.”          

“I was hoping to be classmates with Joshua and Wonwoo again..”

Jeonghan whines, resting his elbows on Jihoon’s table, “yaa; don’t you like being my classmate?”

“I’ve never been your classmate; so, I’m not entirely sure yet.”

Jeonghan pouted this time.

“Meanie~”

“It hasn’t even been a week of school yet.”

“I’m a pretty clever guy too Mister Honours.” Jihoon scoffs at this.

He remembered having to find a loophole out of Jeonghan’s case in the student council’s office when he had been caught cheating during a quiz.

But really, who files a complain about cheating in high school? Everyone practically finds a way to cheat in anything just to pass now and Jihoon didn’t have anything against it really.

“But anyway,” Jeonghan started. “Quinn’s a decent classmate.”

“You’ve been classmates before?” Jihoon recalled him muttering something about ‘forgetting she had a loud voice’.

“Yeah, freshmen year with Avilla and Ramsey.”

“Ramsey’s in Joshua’s room.”

“Whatever, to put, they were a group, like us and stuff.”

“So what about them?”

Jeonghan pulls himself back from Jihoon’s desk when he took out his snacks for Jeonghan.

Jeonghan takes the rice crackers.

“Avilla was our second semester rep; she’s good.”

“She became our class representative for our first semester last year.” Jihoon recalls.

When Avilla had been appointed as their representative, Jihoon remembered vaguely the worried look that flashed across her face. She insisted continuously that she was a bad choice, but votation from a few old classmates of hers proved otherwise.

The first semester for them had gone out evenly with Avilla’s leadership, most especially since the male representative had been hospitalized after a competition.  People didn’t want to take her off of the position the second semester, but the teachers insisted that their class needed to give other students a chance.

“I don’t think they’ll make her a representative anymore.”

“Why not?” Jeonghan bites the first cracker, offering another piece to Jihoon who immediately refuses.

“There’s a new rule now that a student is only allowed to be elected once in class for their whole stay in high school.”

“Aww. That’s a bummer.”

“Hn.”

“Anyway,” Jeonghan shrugs. “Quinn…” Jeonghan trails off. “She’s decent since she actually has good notes even if you barely see her awake in class.”

“Oh?”

Jihoon wasn’t extremely familiar with Quinn unlike with Avilla and Ramsey. Ramsey had been his classmate together with Avilla the previous year, and he knew the girl was capable in the field of arts and technology. She was even a strict critique and deadly debater when required. Other than those though, Jihoon knew Ramsey for being chill and jaunty, and a slight perfectionist if he had to admit.

However, this was the only year he had encountered Quinn (aside from seeing her around the corridor and mostly with a group of girs). All he knew from his batchmates were that Quinn wouldn’t speak to the male population at school unless circumstances brought her to the point of having to speak up.

Hence the first day of class during orientation.

“Yeah, like there are even small doodles of the lesson or side notes— mostly random doodles around her notebook though.” Jeonghan laughs suddenly and Jihoon got a bit curious as to why.

“One time, the teacher asked her to photocopy her notes for those who were absent during the stomach flu season. Everyone wouldn’t stop talking about this cute frog evolution she drew for biology.”

“At least she’s useful.” Jihoon comments, trying his best to hint how nonchalant he was.

He was the type to have a few messy pages from time-to-time when the teacher taught too fast, so he would need some back up to fix his notebooks.

It wouldn’t hurt to try talking to Quinn if it meant saving his grades.

“Yeah, and good in English. Like, way better than you.”

Jihoon twitched.

“It’s 1:30 already.”

“Oh yeah,” Tara wipes the corner of her lip with a thumb, “Wendy-senpai said there’s a meeting later.”

Bree looks up from her notebook and lets go of the pen she had been biting, “what for?”

“She said something about welcoming the female freshmen again. Their population’s bigger than the Sophomores.” Vee replies, sliding the tray of left-over beef curry beside her bentou.

“That just means this school is getting more girl power!” Tara cheers before plopping a piece of broccoli in her mouth.

“We are slowly leading a good generation in our revolution,” Bree nods in approval, her voice a bit whole and her posture straight as if she were a politician. Tara could really imagine her friend dressed in a formal attire. “The school will be more balanced this way. Next step is to get rid of the manipulative assholes here in school.” Bree stabs a potato before bringing it to her mouth.

Vee eyed the poor remnants of the potato.

“Do you have any people in mind?”

“To be honest,” Bree chews, covering her mouth while speaking. “I heard some nasty news from the Sophomores about one of their batch representatives, but I need to hear or see stuff for myself.”

“Speak of the Sophomores, just yesterday I saw the Sophomore’s batch beadle scowling at you during the orientation.”

Bree’s eyebrows narrow at this. “He’s actually one of the ‘news’ I was talking about— the one with Bieber like hair?” Tara nods at this, “I’ll look into him later.”

“How do you even get all of these information? You suck at being updated during grade school.” Vee gestures to Bree’s ballpen, reminding her to continue her notes.

Bree smiles a bit, Vee took note of how sad it seemed. “I guess this is the effect of being surrounded by a lethal environment.”

“Well, it helps though. Look at us, fixing things up.” Tara points out, looking at the brighter side of things.

Bree nods, replacing her chopstick with her pen once more, “yeah..”

Hopefully, things do fix up and everything runs smoothly.

Thud

“What happened?” Bree immediately picks the bottle of water that fell from the tray (and onto the bench they sat on) Ann deliberately dumped on the table. Tara and Vee put up the remaining items upright and Ann sits down beside Bree, irritably applying her lip balm.

“Nothing,” Ann pauses. She breathes heavily before taking her spoon and wiping it with a piece of tissue. “As usual, we’re just surrounded by rude people.”

“Don’t rush eating, we’ll be pulled out for the next period. I’m sure Seulgi-senpai wouldn’t mind you eating during the meeting.”

Ann could only nod as she tore off the seal of her yoghurt cup.

“I totally understand how the mcs of otome games feel when it comes to assholes.”

1: 15PM

There were two general types of people in high school.

One: the people who don’t give two damns about what you do or who you are, unless you become their project-mate or partner in anything school related at all. Two: the bullies or manipulative people who like to ruin other people’s lives for no reason.

She had 30 minutes to eat, and she still needed to nap.

‘Why is it taking so long..?’ Ann thought to herself as she tilts her head, checking the line in front of her.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been this tedious if she actually didn’t tell her friends that it was fine to leave her already in line. She could’ve even told Bree about the route she was taking in the games they were playing. But no, she just had to say ‘it’s all right’ when Tara had asked if she was sure.

No regrets.

“Why is it even so hot?” She mumbles to herself. Apparently, it wasn’t even quiet enough to be considered as a mumble because a student behind her just chuckled and apologized to his friend. He even joked about leaving so that the cafeteria would ‘cool up’ a bit.

Ann did her best not to roll her eyes.

“Next.” The second cashier calls out.

The next person in line walks up to the second cashier, his friend waiting just behind him in queue. When the student noticed that the person on the first cashier was ready to leave, Ann saw that he was about ready to run up to the cashier, only for the cashier lady to place the ‘closed’ sign on the counter.

Both Ann and the students in line sighed.

Normally it didn’t take too long for the cashier ladies to take orders in the stalls. Even last year as a new student, Ann took note that the perks of being in the weird academy was that the cafeteria staff were quick in selling and cooking, and even with their hasty work, kept everything neat and orderly.

So, was it because it was the first week of class and there were new and more food being sold in the cafeteria?

Ann scans the display of food and the menu— no, nothing was new, same food as last year.

So what was causing the traffic?

1:20PM

‘Finally,’ she rejoices inwardly as she takes a step forward. She was the second to the first in line, prepared to order the food she wanted. ‘All of this for just yoghurt. I’m glad I ate bit of rice earlier.’ She gave herself a pat on the back silently.

“Yaa, you took too long.”                

“Sorry, got caught up in a conversation.”

“Sure you didn’t get clogged by the new girls in the corridor?”

“I actually took the long way.” The student who had just arrived, sniggered.

He better not be—

The student who had originally stood in front of her in the queue left his spot after being called by the lady behind the counter. Meanwhile, his friend who had just came, casually took his friend’s place, readying his wallet and counting his bills.

He was.

“Excuse me.” Ann speaks up. She was about to tap on the boy’s arm if it weren’t for him whipping his head towards her and practically slapping her with his long hair.

‘Fuck’ Ann had her eyes shut at the brunt of his hair.

It was so damn coarse and hefty.

“Yeah?”      

She gradually opened her eyes that met with half-lidded ones. The boy who looked down on her, blinked at her expression that was building bit by bit negatively.

How insolent, coming from the Prince of the school.

“You’re cutting in line.” She says, deadpan.

The boy blinked, “I’m not. My friend was here and I just came late.”

“Regardless, you cut in line.” Ann bit back. She usually wouldn’t start a fight but really, this was too much. The least he could really do was ask his friend to buy whatever he needed instead of taking everyone’s time, everyone who had been waiting in line for the past grave thirty plus minutes. Ann would have even forgiven him more if he had arrived earlier and cut-in-line with his friend if they weren’t right in front already.

Still, he didn’t seem to care at all. He didn’t move the slightest on his spot on the very front of the line.

“I’m sorry?”

Ann wanted to cut his tongue and his hair.

“Oi Jeong, your turn.”

“Yeah.”

The boy walks to the front of the cashier, and Ann didn’t know if he was taking pleasure in literally hair-slapping her each time he turned his head.

‘This isn’t worth my anger. This isn’t worth my time. This isn’t worth my anger. This isn’t worth my time.’ Ann takes a few hefty breaths as she clutches her purse to herself tightly while glaring at the back of the tall boy who took her spot in being the next to taking her order.

So much for prince charming.

“Sorry I’m late. Seriously; I don’t know what our substitute teacher has against me.”

Tara laughs quietly to herself at the sense of déjà vu.

The head seniors of the girl division’s eyes were on Bree for just a moment with a small smile at her rattled entrance, before resuming to make eye contact with the newcomers. “We prepared a small project and we hope that you all participate even if it may be a bit troublesome,” one of the hosts declares. A few subtle whines and sighs didn’t go overheard, Seulgi clears her throat at this.

“This project has been used for the past years since BoysBe had started accepting female applicants. We have received great feedback for continuing this project because it helps the small population of us female students get to know each other more—“

Bree stood awkwardly alongside the chair she sat on. Tara could well-nigh sense her friend’s aura unconsciously tapping on her shoulder.

She was anxious.

Bree was the only one standing up in the sea of seats after all. What’s worse was the fact that the venue looked too big for the small populace of students. Tara’s nose scrunches a little; she thought they had prepared enough chairs for the event, for both newcomers and program members.

“Do you want to sit down? We could switch and—“

“No it’s okay,” Bree instantly replies. “I’m okay.”

Tara looks up at her and as if Bree caught on, she tries to smile at her, just to reassure her.

Yup, Tara knew she wasn’t.

“So the project goes like this—“

Tara sighs. Knowing Bree, she declined because she didn’t want to put Tara in her situation or merely lived up to her mistake of running late. Tara sat too far from Vee, so she wouldn’t be able to signal for any vacant chairs— she wasn’t allowed to bring out her mobile device either since there were some admin around. Nevertheless, Tara wanted to find some way to—

“Aubs.”

“Mm?”

“There’s a seat at that corner—“

“—it’s okay,” she answers, but her attention was on the seat right where Tara pointed. “I could stay like this the whole program, I’ve been sitting too—“

“Aubs, we were tasked to be partners with a new student remember?”

She shut up

Score for Tara.

“Ahh… right,” Bree sighs as if it was too troublesome to walk all the way to the other side of the room. Though Tara knew it took a bit of nervousness out of her system. “Okay, talk to you later.”

Alth believed she would have a heart attack if she didn’t realise that the dark shadow she had seen through her peripheral vision had just been another student who hastily moved by the narrow paths of the venue.

The girl walked without making a single noise — the venue appeared too silent in spite of the instrumentals that played at the background during the flow of the program— and the fact that the girl just popped out of the mass of colourful heads (that were the same height as her even if she were already standing) scared her shitless.

The petite girl continued to walk — all too silently for Alth’s poor heart— until she reached the back of the venue where Alth had been ushered to.

Alth did her best not to look at her the closer she got to her seat.

“Excuse me,” her voice had a high pitch, something that was too common among tiny girls.

“Y-Yeah?” God— Alth almost gave herself a whiplash when she turned her head to the girl— when would she be able to control that stuttering.

She points with a tiny finger towards the empty chair to her left, “is this seat taken?”

What was with her and calling everything small about this girl.

“Ah, no it’s not.”

The girl nods her head a bit brashly before dropping herself onto the seat as if her life depended on it.

Not that Alth really knew she was edgy.

Alth covers her mouth to suppress a gasp that nearly came out from her mouth— although the girl who just took her seat beside her gave her a sideway glance— it’s the first time a female student actually spoke to her before she initiated it in the academy.

Seems petty? Please don’t mind her then.

Alth inwardly gulped, before cautiously peering back at her.

It was perhaps, such an absurd or overexcited thought, but she felt her heart bloat at the idea that she didn’t have to go over extreme measures of pressuring her heart and angst to speak to someone new.

This was a good start right?

“— please find a partner you think you’d like to be with during the project.”

Alth snaps from her daze. A number of students started to get up from their chairs, some shyly approaching each other, while the rest, for some reason, had claimed each other as partners as if they already knew each other.

This was her chance.

“Hey, uhm—“ Alth turns to the girl earlier only to find a few students surrounding her chair already if not lined up.

“Senpai, can you be my partner?”

A couple of more girls start to approach and crowd both of their chairs. Alth shrinks to herself at the amount of people who wanted to be partners with the only person she had in mind. She didn’t know who else to approach, nor did she have any same-gendered friends yet in school.

Alth enviously looked over at the girl who sat beside her before staring at her hands on her lap.

She wanted to feel like that— wanted, accepted, by everyone. She had back then, in her old school (by her friends at least) but now she could hardly find the courage to even talk to her female classmates and the week was about to end and she could imagine herself alone for the rest of her high school life and—

“Sorry,” she bows slightly as she adjusts herself in her seat, “but Althea’s my partner.”

At the mention of her name, the chair beside her squeaks at the weight that came off and the students gathering the table began to find a partner elsewhere.

Alth blinks rapidly, very positive that the girl beside her never planned with her about being partners with her— not that she minded at all.

The girl drags her chair close to her— all Alth could do was stare at her with a bewildered expression— and when all the other girls had really left their spot, the girl stopped just as she was about to sit.

“You don’t have a partner, do you?”

“N-No.” Alth responded nervously.

“Sorry that was.. yeah.. would it be fine if I am?”

“Of course!” Alth nodded pleasantly, scooting her chair nearer to the girl. “And uhm…”

“Mm?”

“How’d you know my name?”

Alth is taken aback for a moment when the girl gives her such a wide smile— her expressions change quite rapidly— before pointing to her chest.

“Your nametag.”

“Oh.”

‘Shit, shit, shit…!’ Tara slides (slams) the door to their classroom open.

Since the program earlier had commenced, Tara may have been too engrossed in her conversation with the freshmen she decided to pair with for their project.

Tara had chosen the girl who was located right in front, and right at the center of their program’s venue. Tara couldn’t place any reason as to why she chose the girl, in fact— aside from how she had stood out so much because of her enormous height compared to her rowmates— it was as if her own feet just dragged her all the way to the front of the venue, to speak to that head that had been blocking her view of her senpai she adored so much.

“I packed your bags already,” someone calls out to her as she runs to her seat that was unfortunately assigned at the other side of the classroom.

However, Tara did not regret approaching the said freshman. The first question Tara had asked (aside from her name and cause of transferring) was how she had coped during the first day of class; this lead to tale of how the freshman had mistaken one of the ushers during the orientation as a female student due to his long hair when she had been trying to find her class.

She realises a tad too late that her bag was transferred to the desk closest to the door. Tara backtracks fast unzips it to check if everything was indeed inside.

Tara was absolutely sure that her new friend was talking about her classmate whose hair rivaled the female population’s own.

“Your canvases are leaning on the wall by the way,” Tara turns to Bree who had been talking to her the whole time, telling her everything she organised in her bag. “You know what, never mind. Lemme just…”

“Thanks Aubs.”

“No problem. I took those off your table. I figured some people might think it as something they needed to store away during cleaning time.” Bree pokes a paper she had folded into a lily flower into her bag’s pocket and resumes to pick her canvases, handing it to her instead of watching her struggling friend in a rush. “Are you sure you don’t want my help— those seem pretty heavy and—”

“—No— it’s fine— d-don’t you have a club to run though?”

“Club’s not until next week, don’t worry.”

“What? Why?”

“Our coach is still on a trip abroad—“

“Oh, okay, okay— Thank you! I’m so sorry about this.”

Bree waves a hand, “it’s okay! You seem to be in a rush so,” and pushes the sliding door with the heel of her foot to assist her friend in exiting. “Now go, shoo, shoo; run!”

Just as she was told, Tara takes off, into the corridors, nearly tripping on her own foot.

Bree holds the sliding door in its place as she watches her friend scuffle to overtake a few students. Irritated with how everyone was practically blocking the way, Bree enters their classroom again, leaning against the back of the door and inhaling noisily.

“Excuse me— excuse me!” Tara did her best to minimize the volume of her voice as soon as she realized that the halls were made differently from their building— why the hell was she barely seeing any windows in this side of the school? She could nearly see her words bouncing off the walls of the hallway.

Tara didn’t want to leave a horrible first impression with her new club mates. Giving her legs a bit of boost, Tara forgets how strained her limbs were from running and carrying the canvases that were required on the first meeting.  

Despite wanting to keep her healthy figure, she knew her aikido was enough work out— and with the amount of work that was bound to be thrown at them for their junior year, Tara didn’t know if she would be able to balance her swimming training for competitions and aikido with the possible additions. She thought about her decision over the summer and concluded that she would most likely overwork herself and lose a good amount of sleep (not that she hadn’t) if she pushed through with her old routines and the supplementary amount of schoolwork for junior year. So the best solution would to let go of swimming as her club and find another source of outlet that won’t require having to compete outside school.

Health over achievements, her friends reminded her.

Painting was a brilliant choice, her mother had mentioned. Unlike clubs under the sports category, those under the visual arts category are given the opportunity to decline competitions offered to them. The most the club would ask for is a year-ends exhibit or a workshop for younger children inside and outside school. Not only did it only lessen the tasks Tara would handle, but her mother pointed out that she could now continue her old hobby without having to worry about stopping midway works due to exhaustion, training, or schoolwork.

Remembering how her mother had dragged her off to the mall to buy some materials in the middle of her organizing her room made her smile unconsciously.

“Thank you so much for lending your projector!”

Hearing the roar of an enthusiastic student in front of her, Tara’s train of thought is interrupted. Before she could think of dodging the boy who she had noticed (at the last minute) stepped out of a room, the canvases that she had stacked on her arms fell over as she ran into him.

Clank!

“Ah!”

Tara didn’t know whether the sound of distress came from her or the boy in front of her.

The topmost canvas fell to the floor and even if Tara attempted to save the rest of the pile by adjusting to the direction of its fall, the canvases proceeded to topple over onto the white floors of the hall.

Left with one canvas in her arms and her bag hanging severely on the pit of her elbow, Tara’s mouth is left ajar at the mess by her feet.

“I’m so sorry!” She cries out as she bows repeatedly before crouching down to place the only canvas she had successfully saved on the floor. Muttering how she regrets rejecting her best friend’s last offer to help, she reaches out to restacking the canvases that were scattered across the hall.

“Iyaa, it’s okay!” Tara hears him reply before hearing the shuffling of his feet.

Sensing that he may be departing and wanting to curse him internally for being uncouth, Tara looks up only to find him bending over a few steps away from her, picking up her round canvas that had rolled off farther than the rest.

He stands upright again— she averts her eyes immediately—before shuffling back to her with a sheepish smile. “Sorry by the way uhh—“ He bows before crouching down in front of her to help her restack her items.

“No no no no— I’m sorry, I was in a hurry since I might be late for club time—“

“Iyaa, I’m the one who came out of nowhere and…” he trails off.

Noticing him turn quiet, Tara hesitantly looks back at him and catches him eying her ribbon.

“—anyway senpai,“ Taken aback by his loud voice and credit of her higher status, Tara avoids his gaze and takes a hold of the base of the pile. The boy does the same though, which forces Tara to look back at his smiling face. “Let me help you with these!”

For some reason, he reminded her of a hamster.

She shakes her head, “no it’s okay! This is enough help, thank you so—“

“Senpai, come on, it’s okay!”

“But—!“

“Please?” Suddenly, his eyes are more visible now. Something in his eyes seemed to plead for her to bring him along, maybe guilt? “I’ll explain to your instructor why you’re tardy, you know… just in case?”

“O-Okay..” Tara nods uneasily.

The previous expression in his eyes faded as soon as he beamed again. Tara watches as the boy takes a better grip on the pile before jumping up to stand and taking a step beside her before letting her lead the way.

“Thank you so much, you really didn’t have to do this though,” she turns her head to him and his smile just turns brighter.

“No really, it’s all right! I don’t want to be the cause of you getting in trouble— I mean sure the teachers are nice here, but they get pretty harsh when you’re in a higher level.”

“I see..” Was all Tara could mutter.

In silence (aside from the occasional squeak of his shoes on the floor) they reached the end of the hall. She prayed inwardly and heard the boy whisper ‘I honestly wish there wasn’t a teacher inside yet. I hear artsy people come too early or too late’. She took a peek by the door’s small window before sighing in relief at the emptiness of the room.

“Your face tells me, you’re the early kind and that the teacher isn’t in yet.”

Tara laughs softly before sliding. the door open. She steps aside and allowed the boy to enter the room before following suit.

The boy surveys the room as he places her canvases on the nearest table. “Good thing no one’s here yet huh?”

The room wasn’t even set up yet aside from the first row of desks and chairs being prepared.

“Yeah.” She hangs her bag by the side of the table’s hook before looking around, “but it’s already ten minutes past three… I wonder if I got the schedule wrong.”

“Huh? Senpai, it’s just quarter to three.”

Tara glances at him and he points at something behind her.

“What—“her eyes widen at the sight of the clock and she runs a hand through her hair, “so my watch—“ she studies the said device for a moment before realising that the second hand this whole time hadn’t been moving.

“I was kind of wondering why you were in such a rush.” The boy admits, blinking at her. “Club doesn’t start till three right?”

“Y-Yeah…”

No wonder she saw a bunch of senior painters roaming near the cafeteria when she had sprinted from the farther building.

The boy had left after helping her set the rest of the desks in the room. He had also taken the initiative of carrying the teacher’s table by the platform and board before the instructor had arrived. He then excused himself, telling her that he promised to treat a best friend out after class. Vexed that he kept his best friend waiting and insist that he need not concern himself with the excess of the room’s mess, she had lightly sent him off.

“Starting next week, I will no longer supervising you again, but you can visit me in the faculty during break time or before I leave the school for any matter,” the teacher bows before smiling. “You are dismissed.”

The whole club stands to bow and acknowledge their dismissal before gathering their belongings or talking amongst themselves. Meanwhile, Tara sighs at her name written on the board.

Club Secretary: Avilla, Tara

“Tara-senpai.”

Said leader turns to her seatmate with a smile, “yeah?” masking her grief.

At least she wasn’t the club president.

“Uhh, I’m not sure but I think your phone has been buzzing in your bag.”

Briskly, Tara shoves her hand into her bag, swiping her phone with her thumb, not bothering to check the name of her caller.

“Hello—“

“Tara-senpai!”

“Ack—!!” She pulls her phone away from her ear before pulling back, “uh, h-hello?” She bows self-consciously at her club mates that glanced at her worriedly.

“Ne, senpai, how are you— where are you?!”

“Oh, I’m—“

“You broke your promise!!”

She got cut off again. For some reason, her brain was reacting slowly— ‘Get it together Tara!!’

She could hear her heart beating in her eardrums.

“Huh? What promise—“

“I waited for you by the shoe cubbies of the freshmen!”

“Ah!” Tara gasps in horror just as her foot unconsciously stomps on the floor “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry—“

“Yaa, senpaaai you hurt my feelings!! I got lost this morning!!”

She was upset with herself too.

“I’m so sorry Mingyu!”

[instantlit]

End of the Year Survey - 2018

Another bookish year has come and gone, and I'm really happy with what 2018 brought me, in terms of reading at least. I've had quite the unexpected year but I've also never read quite so many books I've liked so wholeheartedly. So, here's my year in review! 

Also, you can check out my Year in Books: 2018 Edition on Goodreads!

(Under the cut because it’s hella-long)

Number Of Books You Read: As is becoming a habit, I've put my Goodreads Reading Goal at 25 and, while I did pretty great last year by reading 33 books, I've surpassed that number even more in 2018 with 38 books in total! (I’m stopping at 38 at least, I’m kind of rereading something at the moment, but I’m not including it since it’s just to pass the time) Some might think that I should put a higher number as my goal since I can do it apparently, but know that most of the books I’ve read this year were shorter or, at least, I’ve read less big books in 2018. Also, I like the freedom I feel when I see that I'm ahead of schedule. It allows me to pick bigger books or books that I wouldn't have tried by fear of fucking up my quota. Anyway, I'm really happy and I hope 2019 will go just the same. Number of Re-Reads: Only one this year and that was during the month of January, when I was still at my mom's place for the Christmas holidays, stranded without any new books to read. So, it was with pleasure that I revisited an old favourite: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, my favourite in the series. It made me fall in love with Remus Lupin even more. Genre You Read The Most From: It's so hard to define because it's been all over the place this year. I think, while most of the books I've read don't really fit the Fantasy category, most of them contain some kind of magical element, so maybe I'd say Magical Realism? Without any true conviction though. I could also have easily said Literary or Adult Fiction.

Best Book You Read In 2018: It's so difficult to narrow it down to only just one book, though! After much deliberation, I'll go with Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel, because it's just that good! Also, I think this book's got something in it for every type of reader: it's a character-driven story but in an apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic setting, there are different perspectives but they're done well and connect in the end, there's talk of literature and philosophy, but one of the main focus is also a famous Hollywood actor... I don't know, I feel like I could recommend this book to anyone and they'll probably like it. That's not something that happens to me a lot.       Book You Were Excited About & Thought You Were Going To Love More But Didn’t: All Our Wrong Todays by Elan Mastai, which is sort of my own fault. I mean, the reviews are not bad, but I'd just hyped this book so much because it's about time-travel and alternate realities... I even picked it up pretty quickly considering the fact that some books have been in my TBR for years. But, in the end, it was a huge disappointment for many, many reasons. The first of which is that the main character is a complete idiot, who has no redeeming qualities, who doesn't make sensible decisions and who expects people to feel sympathy for him constantly. It's also so obviously written by a man ™ , what with the way that Mr. MC sleeps with every female character in the book, except his mother and sister (thank Merlin for that), while none of them are developed beyond what they bring to the main character. It was ridiculous.     

Most surprising (in a good way or bad way) book you read: It feels like ten thousand years have gone by since I've read this book, but no, it was only last February: My Lady Jane, by Cynthia Hand & Co. The reason I was surprised was because the hype was so strong with this one. I hadn't read a single negative review, and everyone and their mother seemed to have loved it. It's not like I was expecting to hate it. I was hoping so hard that I would end up raving about it but, it still surprised me. It's kind of silly and lighthearted, and not at all the kind of stories you'd expect when you hear "Jane Grey retelling", but it was an amazing read: super quick, terribly hilarious, and just fun all around.   Book You “Pushed” The Most People To Read (And They Did): I don't recommend books to people! My tastes are so specifically mine that I don't like to recommend books, unless I'm one hundred percent sure they'd be interested. That being said, one of my friends has The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss on her shelves, but still hasn't read it, so I allowed myself to vouch for it. Best series you started in 2018 / Best Sequel of 2018 / Best Series Ender of 2018: Except for the Best Starter, which I feel strongly about, most of those are by default (mostly), because series haven't been a big part of my reading life this year.

Starter: The Poppy War, by R.F. Kuang

Sequel: Waking Gods, by Sylvain Neuvel

Ender: Muse of Nightmares, by Laini Taylor Favorite new author you discovered in 2018: It's kind of a difficult question, though. I've read many new authors this year (or at least, they were new to me), but not one of them made me go "Oh my God, I have to read everything they ever published!" simply based on the writing itself. I guess I'll go with Min Jin Lee. Pachinko plunged me into the Korean immigrant experience, and I'm asking for more. I already got my hands on her previous book, and I know that a third one is coming up soon-ish.   Best book from a genre you don’t typically read / was out of your comfort zone: The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. It's a mystery/ghost story, and I don't usually read those, but it was an amazing experience. The writing was beautiful, the setting was eerie and the story was gripping until the very last page. Total success! Most action-packed / thrilling / unputdownable book of the year: Hands down, the Poppy War by R.F. Kuang wins in terms of Most Action-y. I mean, it's about a war. It's the perfect mix between Game of Thrones and Mulan so, it's not really a surprise, but everything in it was thrilling. There were some really gruesome and graphic moments of carnage but I think it all contributed in making it unputdownable. Book You Read In 2018 That You Are Most Likely To Re-Read Next Year: Easy: none of them! I already have a pretty tight reread schedule for 2019, six books in total, which is more than my yearly average but I'm committed. In any case, it doesn't leave much room for more, I don't want to crawl through the weight. That being said, I thought I would be rereading the Six of Crows duology in 2018 and I didn't, so... And look at me! I'm doing it in 2019, yeah!

Favorite cover of a book you read in 2018:

Most memorable character of 2018: By the end of the year, I fear the full effect of this or that character has usually dimmed quite a bit, but! I nominate Noah from Min Jin Lee's Pachinko, because I thought about him and his story for months, and I mean months (very long months), after I finished the book. Most beautifully written book read in 2018: Well, I've read a Donna Tartt novel this year, so... The Goldfinch. Easy win. Most Thought-Provoking / Life-Changing Book of 2018: I'm going to go with Pachinko again because it marks such a drastic turn in my reading life and my overall interests. I'm getting into Korean culture, I'm learning Korean so, of course, I'm getting interested about what Koreans do in terms of literature. And, while Pachinko was not the first one I picked, it's the one that remained with me ever since. It does such a brilliant job of describing the Korean immigrant experience in Japan that it has to make you react in some way. The story is also very diverse and nuanced, and I loved that. Book you can’t believe you waited UNTIL 2018 to finally read: A Midsummer Night's Dream by Shakespeare. Okay, to tell this story, I have to go back a little bit. I've studied literature, but not specifically English literature, so Shakespeare has never been a priority on the curriculum. I read Romeo & Juliet for a class in high-school, and was vaguely planning to read King Lear and Hamlet in college when I did a course on Theatre but, while I bought both of them, I never even opened the first page. I was never planning on ever reading anymore Shakespeare, because I thought I was not into reading plays and, anyway, since all my reading is in English now, that means I'd have to read the original which is in Old English. Haha, no way. But, in the meantime, I got interested in this particular play of his, I saw the ballet, knew the story and the characters, but had not read the work in itself. So, I decided to give it a go... and it was absolutely fantastic. It's funny in many different ways, it's clever, entertaining, it's got a bit of magic in it which soothes the Fantasy nerd in me. It was basically perfect and I rated it 5 stars, directly added it to my list of favourites. I'll read more of his plays in 2019, they're on the list!     Favorite Passage / Quote From A Book You Read In 2018: Honestly, I couldn’t think of anything, although I know there has to be one. So, allow me to quote a passage from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream:

[Helena to Demetrius]: Your virtue is my privilege. For that / It is not night when I do see your face, / Therefore I think I am not in the night, / Nor doth this wood lacks worlds of company, / For you, in my respect, are all the world. / Then how can it be said I am alone / When all the world is here to look on me?

Of course, Demetrius, then, proceeds to be a giant dick to her, again, but well...

Shortest & Longest Book You Read In 2018:

Shortest: Opal by Maggie Stiefvater - 38 pages

Longest: The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt - 864 pages Book That Shocked You The Most: I don’t think I’ve read any book that shocked me in the sense the question is intended but, since I have to give an answer, I’m going with More Than This by Patrick Ness, because this book just fucks with your head and makes you question reality at every turn of the page.  

OTP OF THE YEAR (you will go down with this ship!) Bitty and Jack from Ngozi's Check, Please! To be fair, I already knew about them because of the webcomic and, technically, their relationship is only just starting in this first volume, hasn't technically started yet if you're into specifics, but they’re the best and probably the only pairing that really matches with this category. Favorite Non-Romantic Relationship Of The Year: Last year's answer was about a boy and his father and, well, this year, it's a girl and her mother: Frances and her mom from Radio Silence by Alice Oseman. They have the perfect mother-daughter relationship based on love, trust and independence. They're nerding out together, but Frances' mom is also a huge support system for her and just surrounds her with all the warmth!   Favorite Book You Read in 2018 From An Author You’ve Read Previously: I could answer The Goldfinch but I'm trying to prove that I haven't only read 3 books this year and, anyway, my answer is still relevant: Circe by Madeline Miller. The Song of Achilles is an eternal favourite of mine, and the fact that she took Circe's not very developed/barely mentioned story and turned it into something more and something brilliant, only makes me more curious and excited about what she'll do next.   Best Book You Read In 2018 That You Read Based SOLELY On A Recommendation From Somebody Else / Peer Pressure: The Poppy War. The hype was SO strong! It's also a 2018 release and, I mean, I didn't really waste any time in picking it up. That's how fast they got me.   Newest fictional crush from a book you read in 2018: Noah from Pachinko was a strong contender, but I rediscovered Sam in Before the Devil Breaks You by Libba Bray, the third book in the Diviners series, and I loved what I saw. He's not exactly new, but I don't remember crushing on him in the previous books. Best 2018 debut you read: By default, it's the Poppy War. While it's definitely the strongest, I do think that there's room for improvement but, seriously, the author is only like, 22! Who cares?   Best Worldbuilding / Most Vivid Setting You Read This Year: Last year, my answer was Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor and, since I've just read its sequel and conclusion, I could technically answer with Muse of Nightmares, but that'd be the same answer, and I don't want to cheat so, I'm going with Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan McGuire. The book itself is super short, but it's part of a series of novellas focusing on parallel Narnia-like universes: they're called Portal Fantasy. The first book introduces us to a special school for people who went through magical doors and spent time in these magical universes, who were then sent back to their original worlds, and the repercussions this entails. Basically, it's a look at what would happen after Alice came back from Wonderland, it's a closer look at the PTSD effects the Pevensies should have suffered from after their adventures in Narnia, it's the loss Claire went through in Outlander once she was back in her present day. It is so fascinating, and I loved the fact that multiple universes exist and that each character was completely influenced and molded by the one they were sent to. It opens such a large variety of possibilities and I can't wait to get my hands on the other books. Book That Put A Smile On Your Face / Was The Most FUN To Read: There are a few possible candidates, but I'd like to mention a book I haven't talked about yet: The Prince and the Dressmaker by Jen Wang. It's a graphic novel about a young prince who likes to wear dresses. He entrusts a young seamstress with this secret and, together (the prince with his looks, and the dressmaker with her designs) become the talk and the envy of all Paris. It's very light-hearted and the characters are so endearing. It made me laugh and put a smile on my face because of the positive message of acceptance and self-love. Book That Made You Cry Or Nearly Cry in 2018: The closest I've come to crying was reading Noah's parts in Pachinko. Otherwise, had I been in another setting (and not at the beach), I think All the Lights We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr would have pulled a good cry from me, it's just beautifully heartbreaking. Hidden Gem Of The Year: I'm going with Radio Silence by Alice Oseman. People are starting to be more vocal about it, which is amazing, but I feel like it's not up to where it should be. The story is amazing, terribly relatable, it talks about fandom and internet culture, there's amazing mental health representation AND the cast of main characters is incredibly diverse in terms of ethnicity and sexuality! That last part alone should be enough to make everyone rave about it on Tumblr and draw fanart. Where are you people at? Book That Crushed Your Soul: Pachinko. Sorry. Most Unique Book You Read In 2018: Again, nothing new: Station Eleven, because I don't think I've ever read quite anything like it.

Favorite review you wrote in 2018: Probably my review of Radio Silence. I just had so much fun with it and, unlike many other reviews, the words came to me naturally. It was basically writing itself, and I just love when that happens. Best bookish discovery (book related sites, book stores, etc.): PODCASTS! I'm just becoming a true podcasts aficionado. I'm following so many, and many of them are related to books in some way. A lot of them are fictions, but my favourite at the moment is Myths and Legends, where they talk about famous but also not-very-known stories. From Mulan to a very obscure character from Arthurian legends to Viking and oriental folklore, every culture gets its fair share and the stories are all weird but awesome. Did you complete any reading challenges or goals that you had set for yourself at the beginning of this year: Only the Goodreads Challenge, as usually, but it's also the only one I participated in.

One Book You Didn’t Get To In 2018 But Will Be Your Number 1 Priority in 2019: All Out, the short story collection with lots of queer characters in it! I am literally dying to get my hands on it, and I was supposed to read it during Christmas, and then shit happened and my plans got messed up, but it's my absolute priority for 2019! Book You Are Most Anticipating For 2019 (non-debut):The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern. At first, I wasn't planning on reading it. Like, yeah sure, she wrote one of my favourite books of all time, but that doesn't mean  that she can do it again. And then, I read the synopsis and, basically, there's no way I'm not reading this book. It's almost too perfect to be real. Fingers crossed! 2019 Debut You Are Most Anticipating: I can't really think of one, at the moment. But the same thing happened last year, and I did read a bunch of debuts. Series Ending / A Sequel You Are Most Anticipating in 2019: It's already been published, but I will read it in 2019, so I'm counting it: Only Human by Sylvain Neuvel. I'm still surprised by how into this series I am. It's really great and I think the best is to come.   One Thing You Hope To Accomplish Or Do In Your Reading / Blogging Life In 2019: I'm proud to say that my 2018 resolution was completely accomplished. Hurray! Now, for 2019, I want to keep being excited about books and read books that excite me. I DNFed only one book in 2018, but a few were terribly disappointing and, while I know it's not possible to predict which books I'll end up disliking, I want to be better prepared and to choose wisely or, at least, to still keep an open-minded view so as to enjoy as many books as I'll get my hands on.   A 2019 Release You’ve Already Read & Recommend To Everyone (if applicable): Again, I'm not one to recommend books and, also, I'm not too great on knowing in advance what books are coming up + I don’t receive ARCs, but I know for a fact that the Poppy War sequel is planned for 2019, so that's my pick. I'm hoping for the Dragon Republic to be even better!