#like that shit just yeets itself off her body once it’s had enough

[abbey-abdominal]

she’s just a fucking silly guy oh my god

[roses-ruby]

Come home to me...Darling

Jimin x Female Reader (+ Jungkook & Mystery Member)

Ao3 Link

Part 2 of 2 (Part 1)

Genre: Cheating!AU, angst, smut (masturbation and fingering, both female), fluff

Warnings: Masturbation, Fingering, Infidelity, Cursing, Sad, Low self esteem, Mentions of a panic attack, Jimin’s a jerk :(

Word Count: 29,555

Summary: Jimin cheats and you try to make him stay. But whatever you do, it’s never enough.

Tag: @some-random-stranger-007​

A/N: it is finally out now I can go yeet myself into the lake of fire never to return. Can you believe i almost lost this? ahahahaha the level of clownery. Anyway I hate it, so let me know what you think of it. Thank you to @meuurtrierr​ it wouldn’t be possible without her. Edited but I know I missed some shit, also I skimped on the warnings cuz i dont remember what else skskssk do let me know babes mwah Enjoy!

Mondays are the worst.

It’s not enough that you needed to skim through the employee evaluation files in the next 2 hours, but a grueling headache had somehow found a way to attach itself into your brain. Even blinking was painful. You weren’t able to do anything but stare at your desk with little to no energy present in your build. There was a dull lull in the room, and you felt suffocated in your stuffy office. When one of the open file’s papers flutters in front of you is when you manage to snap out of dreamland. Peeking at the desk right outside your office, you let out a sigh of relief at finding the space empty. Finally, you could get up and do something about this headache as well as pour some caffeine into your body.

Usually Yura would gleefully grab it for you, but you felt awkward around her since that day and hadn’t asked anything of her since. It was a bit silly, you don’t know why you were avoiding her exactly. Most likely it was due to not trying out her therapist suggestion yet. But it wasn’t like she was forcing you and it also wasn’t that you didn’t want to go…you were just unsure. You were scared. An unfamiliar person, poking and prodding at you – at your life. Finding and pulling out all the faults in you like weed. Judging you. Your habit of overthinking had already made you fit irrational scenarios inside your head of your ‘sessions’ and how awful they would end up being.

This irrationality also embarrassed you and led you into avoiding Yura.

In a nimble pace, you quickly make your way into the center office filled with cubicles. From there you speedily step your way into the breakroom. Thankfully, it was also empty. It wasn’t like coming here wasn’t unusual for you – you had been in here before you were promoted, albeit just a bit. You weren’t the most extroverted person, and people seemed to always be creating some forms of conversation in here. Which scared you into staying in your cubicle until certain timestamps where you found it vacant. Sighing, you walk to the coffee maker in the corner of the room to find it barren, and you heave a groan as you gather your ingredients for coffee. You didn’t want to stay here in case of running into someone, but life was making everything harder for you as usual. Watching as the coffee hits the pot in the coffee maker, you think back to last night.  

Jimin never made it back home throughout that whole day. That had become a usual occurrence, but it really hit you hard this time because you were aching to sort things out after the clash you both faced. There was a restless ache in your stomach, which you’re sure was the cause in you turning sick today. Last night you had caught the exact moment Jimin figured out that you knew about him and her, his aura completely morphing into something between docile and tense. After he left, you couldn’t sleep for hours, tossing and turning and just waiting for him to come home. The scene kept replaying in your mind and you kept analyzing certain aspects, wishing you had said something better or acted in a compromising manner rather than driving him away. But then he never showed up and you were too afraid to call him back to you. If you went to voicemail yet again, you felt you would go insane.

Though you pondered where he was with exhausted efforts, a dreadful thought told you that you already knew, you just didn’t want to accept it. You hoped it wasn’t true. That he wouldn’t be with Tina – not after last night. Maybe…he was crashing at Jin’s place? …Wait, why didn’t you think of him sooner? Jin, his best friend since he moved to the city, would know where he is! Friends are considered confidantes, aren’t they? It wouldn’t hurt to inquire s few things from Jin, he was always a sweet man. But you didn’t want to force Jimin back to you or anything of the sort, you just wanted to know if he was ok. Hopefully he’ll realize how much you need him, hopefully he’ll come back home to you on his own accord. You were going to give him some time to think, then he’ll surely be back by that day, right?

Hopefully.

As you pour the coffee into your mug, the door creeks open and a citrusy cologne fills the air which pulls you out of your thoughts as you stiffen. Great. Carefully, you turn to see the culprit to be a tall man yawning loudly and stretching his arms while walking towards you. It alarms you that he’s moving straight at you without even realizing, but you don’t make an effort to move. Which ends up with him crashing into you slightly-

“Oh, whoa,” He says as his eyes fly open and he holds onto the small of your back with his warm hand, “Sorry about that, didn’t notice anyone was here!”

No kidding.

Now that he wasn’t scrunching up his expression, you could properly take in his appearance. He had such a soft and youthful face, big doe eyes that seemed to be lit with stars. Everything about him was so round, his nose, his cheeks, his small mouth. Jet black hair covered his forehead and compared to his boyish features, the muscles protruding from his white button up were anything but soft. You felt bad for his shirt, which was straining to hold itself together. There was a small scar on his left cheek, yet another mark amplifying his young features. He seemed to be observing you as well, his eyes a tad bit larger and his hand still on your back.

You clear your throat and straighten your back, looking away from him to the floor.

Breaking out of his daze he retracts his hand immediately, “Oh, sorry!”

That’s when he notices the mug in your hand, then turning to the coffee maker he beams,

“Hey, did you make a fresh brew? That’s awesome, Thanks!”

“It’s no problem.” You say in a small voice

At the moment you desired no conversation with anyone. It felt as if once the tiniest amount of sympathy is thrown in your direction, you become a puddle of pudding into the persons hand. Instead, what you really wanted to do was to stop feeling so weak. Stop relying on them to hold you together, because people leave. Jimin left. Left you to melt into the ground without looking back.  

Right now, you just wanted to be left alone.

But the boy in front of you did not seem to be good at detecting facial cues.  

“Umm…do you work here?” He asks you, and you give him a confused look, “I-I mean, I’ve never seen you around…but it must be because I just started here last week, I’m a new recruit.”

Yura mentioned something about that, but you never actually got a chance to look through the profiles since the Jimin fiasco.

“Is that it?” He asks again, “Are you a new recruit as well?”

“Um...” You wondered how to properly tell the boy that you were his boss. The reason he hasn’t seen you before is because you rarely come out of your office. Unless there’s a big meeting.

“Then you must’ve started today, huh?” He says, a smile on his face displaying his teeth…his bunny teeth. Adorable. “We’re in the same boat then! If you ever need anything, just let me know!”

The expression on him was so pleased, you didn’t have the heart to decline. Didn’t have the heart to walk away or disregard him. So, you just stood there as he introduced himself.

“My name’s Jungkook by the way.”

“_-___.” You respond shyly

“___,” He repeats to himself, scratching the back of his head, “That’s a beautiful name.” He gives you a look that has you blushing as you mumble out a ‘thank you.’  

It was so natural then.

You don’t know how it happened, but you were suddenly thrown into a conversation with your company’s most enthusiastic employee, Jeon Jungkook. At first, you were worried a bit by how young he looks, yet it turned out he was only two years younger than you – and he refused to believe you were older, the brat. He stood there explaining how things work around the office, telling you tall tales about some of the ‘haunted’ conference rooms and scary coworkers to which you were enthralled by, despite being here way longer than him. You found yourself giggling every time he exaggerated a story with his words or eyes.

“So ___, how do you like it here so far?”

“It’s nice,” You respond vaguely, taking another sip of your coffee, “How about you?”

“They really work you to the bone! But I like it, they’re fair with the salary and the donuts here are always so good.” Jungkook beams widely while reaching over to grab one of the chocolate glazed donuts off from the small white box next to the coffee maker.

“Heard the CEO’s batshit though” He says with a mouthful

At that you let out a snort – almost spilling some of your coffee from your mouth, which leads you into covering it with your hand and coughing. It was true, she was a little strange.

“Oops.” Jungkook responds with a mischievous glint in his eye. In return you squint your eyes at him in mock anger as you let out your last cough. He reaches over again and grabs another donut from the box. You wish he would stop doing that, his arm radiated a lot of heat and you were going crazy trying to ignore his scent. Pulling out a second donut, this one with pink frosting and dark red glaze decorated in a zig-zag pattern, he hands it out to you.

“Here,” He says with his bunny teeth displayed.

You give it a long stare before taking it, “Thank you.”

“It’s a peace offering.”

“I see.” You eye the sugary dough and the colorful star sprinkles sticking into the frosting, “Interesting choice.”

“It’s cause that one was pretty.” He pouts

“You gave me a donut because you found it pretty?” You raise an eyebrow at him

Scoffing at your tone, he leans into the countertop and fold his arms, displaying his biceps up in your face. Damn those arms. “And what about it.”

“Nothing,” you giggle, “Just that normal people would give pretty flowers or pretty letters and not…fried dough.”

Jungkook turns silent at that, turning his face toward the ceiling as if in thought. He was making an odd expression, one with his eyebrows drawn in and lips pulled straight, you wondered if this was normally how his face was while thinking. It was kind of funny. But also, very cute.

“You’re right.” He suddenly says

“Hmm?”

“I should get you flowers.”

“…And where would you find flowers in an industrial urban structure?”

To this he removes himself off the counter and turns to you, his height and muscles intimidated you a bit. He was definitely taller than Jimin. “Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe it is.” You say in a low voice, maintaining direct eye contact

“Alright then ___, we may be new here (you internally cringe as he says this) but I bet you I can find you some pretty flowers lurking about in this stale glass cube of a building.”

You laugh at how serious he got – the fiery glint in his eyes, and raise out a hand, “And I bet you won’t!”

Being here three years had taught you quite a lot about this location. The lower floors contained a computer enterprise, and the upper floors remained a basic accounting firm. Grass surrounding the building was patchy and dry thanks to the summer heat. Also, your CEO had a strict pollen allergy, so keeping things like vases to fill with freshly cut daisies in or around the residence was impossible. There was no way he would was going to find any flowers here. It was a bit sad how much you knew about this place, being the only other dwelling you hung out in other than your home. But on the bright side, you were totally gonna win this bet.

“What do I get if I win?” You question as he shakes your hand. Heat immediately shoots down your spine at his touch and you block yourself from shivering by clenching your teeth…he had a very firm grip.

“I’ll be your servant for a week.” He pipes making you raise your brows as you shape your mouth into an ‘o.’ “And what If I win?”

“Hmm…” You hadn’t thought of that because you didn’t think there was any way he could.

“How about if I win, I get your number?”

…

Huh?

Tilting your head, you scrunch your brows. “…Why would you want my number?”  

That confused you.

He gave you a wide eye stare. Did you really just say that? Perhaps you were playing hard to get? Yes…that must be it. No need to feel embarrassed. She didn’t reject you he thinks abashed. While you on the other hand were clueless to his fretful appearance.

“…Um.” Jungkook clears his throat looking down at his shoes. Wait…were Timblands allowed in the uniform? “Just cause.” He mumbles

You dwell on it for a second. You’ve never gave your number to a guy before. It can’t hurt, right? Besides he wasn’t going to win anyway.

“Well, alright.”

He grins at your approval, and you giggle in return. Was he the cutest man, or what?

“You know…you’re very pretty when you laugh.” He says abruptly and that makes you completely drop your mouth. His face flushes and that’s when you notice he still had your hand in his. The sudden awareness makes you pull it back at lightning speed. You try to speak again, but somehow the sound was knocked out of you and the room feels very, very, very, very warm for some reason.  

“I- I should prob-” You point over your shoulder, slowly backing away from the doe-eyed man. “I have work.”

“A-alright…” He scratches the back of his head again. A habit you suppose. “See you around.”

“Yes.” Was the last thing you said before practically sprinting out of the breakroom.

You don’t know how long you spent chatting with Jungkook, but you came back to your office on sore legs. Sitting down on the revolving chair, you spin around a bit feeling bizarrely giddy inside, headache completely forgotten and newly revitalized. As you remember his red cheeks you pull up your arms in front of you. Chills…you had chills. What. Was. That.

Even though your legs hurt from standing, you don’t regret it one bit.  

That was…strange. Never had you been one for conversations, especially not with the other sex. Your husband didn’t seem to like it when you were chatting with another man, so you never tried to. Yet Jungkook…why did you enjoy being around him so much?  

It felt like you were back in high school, talking with the class president you had a huge crush on. Or like the guy from 5th grade who gave you a band aid. And even when you first met Jimin. You’re not sure, but you do know this is the first time in years where you became so smitten with someone so quickly. Jungkook was like a breath of fresh air, you really liked him.

Wait, what?

As soon as you process the weight of your thoughts, you immediately sit up in your chair. No, you couldn’t just have thought of such, right?

You…you were a married woman! Holding up your hand, you stare at your wedding ring while guilt crawls up your spine. This wasn’t right, you shouldn’t be doing this your conscious spoke. Not when your married life was in shambles. Is this who you were? Though, when you really think about it, it wasn’t like you did anything, you were just talking. So why did you feel so bad? Bringing your hand to your chest, you hold onto your ring finger with your other hand and close your eyes. Jimin appears before you, a light smile on his handsome face.

Your heart clenches.

“-ght.”

Just then, you register someone’s voice outside your office, breaking you from your daze. You stiffen, recognizing the soft laughter of your beloved secretary. She must have returned from her lunch break.

These days you had begun to pay Yura special attention.  

It was due to her confession, knowing that she dealt with so much but still managed to be happy – genuinely happy – made you feel…curious. You wanted to understand how she did it, how she managed to deal with life in a better way. And then maybe, just maybe, you could do it too.

Yes, that should be a rational clarification of why you were creeping up to the entrance like a stalker. Calmly stepping up to the see-through door, you hide behind the solid wall to the right of it, peeping your head out to spot Yura. You honestly don’t know what you were wanting to accomplish, but you had been getting yourself involved in a lot of strange situations recently, so it was better not to question it.

She had her back facing you, thankfully, or this would have been even more embarrassing. You stretch your neck out as much as you could, feet planted firmly on the hidden side of the wall. Watching as she stood beyond her desk casually, her phone to her ear while she conversed gently with someone on the other line.

“I’ll pick up some Chinese tonight- no not that one I hate it!” She laughed. “Seriously babe we’ve had that four nights in a row now…okay, okay we had tempura for a whole month because of me I know that!”

It was easy to tell she was talking to her boyfriend. It was just general, everyday stuff but you couldn’t help but feel envious. Yura sounded so content, her boyfriend sounded like he loved her. That was all you’ve ever wanted. How come you’ve never had that?

A grimace falls upon your face. Just what were you doing trying to spy on your secretary? When did you become so pathetic? There was no secret, and if there was, she has told you of it already. The truth was, you were stubborn, unwilling to change from the old ways as if your conservatism has ever been of any help to you. With a silent sigh, you were about to walk back to your desk when you heard him tell her ‘I love you.’  

In return she giggled, “I know~ See you tonight!”

You stood there stagnant for a bit. After a moment, you smiled, although there was no sign of joy on your face. Really…you were really pathetic.

Once you were at your desk, you eye your bag on the side of your chair’s leg before you pick it up, digging through it until you find what you were searching for. The piece of paper with the number was still in the same state as when she first gave it to you. Albeit crumpled. wouldn’t it have been hard for her to gather up the courage to say something you, her boss, could wrongly take offense over? Which you almost did. You respect her courage, her dedication and determination. When she first joined, you thought she was like you.

You were wrong.

She was stronger than you had ever been.

And instead of dwelling in that bitter pool of jealously you’ve drowned in with so many other women, you respected her. You wanted to learn from her and Irene and any woman in your life that had fought their battles with determination. It was like you said before, you had been getting yourself into strange circumstances lately, so why not this too? Who was here to stop you? Who was here to feel pity for you?

All you wanted was to be happy once again. Just once more.  

You owed it to yourself

Tick…tock…tick…tock…

You sat at the edge of your red seat with your palms holding onto your knees. Uneasiness found a way to penetrate your bones and you sensed a thin layer of perspiration on your hairline as you watch the clock ticking down until your dreaded deadline.

There was a lady situated underneath the clock, an elder woman by maybe a decade. She had soft wrinkles around her eyes and forehead, a bun high on top her head and bright red lipstick on her thin lips. Clacking away at her key board, she would occasionally furrow her brows in concentration at something she was looking at on her computer screen or smile at you if you made eye contact. Didn’t do much to ease your nerves but it still felt nice. The lady reminded you of yourself, and you speculate if this is how people saw you when you were at work.

It had been a couple of days until you managed to call an appointment for a therapy session. The isolation ate away at you after Jimin had been missing for the third day. You desperately wanted to talk to someone about your problems, but Irene was out of town, your husband absent, and you were too shy to seek out Yoongi. Instead of pushing your complications onto others, you thought it was finally time to call in some professional effort. The lady on the phone had been really nice and you were able to set an appointment up fairly quickly. Now you were just sitting here, in the monotone lounge area waiting for the therapist to arrive.

There was quite a bit of research you did beforehand. Turns out, different therapists professionalize different problems. Cognitive therapist help deal with bad thoughts and unclutter daily habits. Family-oriented systems therapist dealt with family related issues. Personal issues are dealt by people who are experts in narrative, behavioral, or solution-oriented therapies. And psychodynamic therapists, like the one you were visiting, dealt with unconscious motivation.

Actually, many therapists deal with many different fields at once, some work in relationship therapy both romantic and platonic while others work only on you – if you choose to keep the people in your life out of your segments. Because of that, it was up to the person seeking out therapy to decide what’s right for them. For instance, if you are someone who always felt closer and comfortable with your dad, then maybe it’s best that you seek out a male therapist. You also had to be meticulous about their personalities.

During your search, you found a person who said their therapist always read their email during sessions on a blog forum. One even said their therapist ate rounds of cheese during theirs! It was extremely uncomfortable to read that. But now you knew there were many things to make sure of, therefore being prepared. Gender, expertise, field of education, professionalism, reviews, trust and even the vibe you get from certain therapists are all important factors in choosing a therapist.  

Researching yours, you found her specialty was in female psychology. Including relationships and intimacy. All reviews on her were positive and you were so glad to read through them. After rounds of self-motivation and days of procrastination, here you were.

It’s quite humorous actually, a month ago you never thought you’d be doing anything like this.  

You just weren’t ever capable, especially not with your level of anxiety. What could it be about the past few weeks that you’ve grown so courageous? Was it the meeting with the stranger on the roof, the discovery of a friend, or empathizing with someone you worked with? But what if it wasn’t a person? Perhaps it was the city’s rapid heart at 3 AM, the wild club and heavy beats or the mundane office life encouraging you to take a step forward. Maybe it the tragedy behind that rainy day you hate to recall and hitting rock bottom with such force. Opening the pandora box? As you struggle to find answers within yourself, you realize Jimin wasn’t the only one confused with your behavior.  

You don’t get to dwell on the past for too long as a door clicks open and lets a slight breeze pull you from your thoughts.  A slender young lady holding a clipboard appears; short brown hair, black kitten heels and thin rimmed glasses sitting on her nose. She looks in your direction and smiles, gesturing for you to come her way.

You get up nervously, wiping your sweaty palms on your pencil skirt. Straightening yourself out, you make your way towards her.

“Hi, you must be ___, correct? I’m Dr. Lin.” She raises her hand and you immediately grab it. Her voice was gentle and steady, you felt actually welcomed.

“Yes, nice to meet you, Doctor.”

“You too.” She smiles, “And please, call me Lin. This way please.”  

She leads you in with her arm on your back, making you effortlessly walk into the sanctuary of her office.  

Once you were inside the room, you gape at her place in awe. It was wide open, there was no way you’d feel suffocated in here as you originally thought. There were large windows, displaying the greenery located at the back of the building. She had two huge shelves filled with colorful books on both ends of her office. In front of the windows rested a large shaggy carpet with a glass coffee table on top. Behind the table were two grey sofa chairs that complimented the fuzzy blue carpeting. And a small desk on the right side next to an office chair where she probably did most of her work. As you hear the door shut behind you, you turn around to catch her eye and she smiles at you.

“Right this way.” She says, walking past you which leads you into following her. When she reaches a chair, she pauses, waiting for you to take a seat first.  

So, you do.

“Well.” She starts, grabbing the pen off her clipboard, “How are you today ___?”

“I-I’m alright.”

Lin raises the corner of her lips “Just alright?”

“Yes…I.” You don’t know what to say. Were you already doing something wrong?

“That’s good,” Lin smiles as she clicks her pen open and jots something down onto her clipboard. “That’s a beautiful ring by the way.”

“O-oh thank you.” You cover your finger with your hand as Lin slightly squints at your action, still writing something.

“So,” She takes a deep breath and put down her pen, “What brings you here today?” Looking back up at you, she beams.

“Um…I needed someone to talk to…”

“Do you not have someone in your life to talk to? Or is it that you don’t feel comfortable confiding in them?”

“Kind of both…I…don’t want to trouble anyone.”

“I see.” She writes something else down

“Now tell me ___...why’re you really here?”

Out of nervousness, you kept messing with your ring and you knew she could tell. So, to distract your hands you needed something else to clutch onto. There was a tall glass of water on the coffee table in front of you. Your doctor notices your staring right away to which she points, “Please, go ahead.”

At her approval you pick up the glass and bring it your lips. After drinking just a bit, you decide to hold it down on your lap. For a second, you just stare as the water softly vibrates inside the clear glass while Lin waits for you to speak up. Is there a right way to tell her? You struggle internally at voicing your problems.

“I-I’ve been married six years…and it’s…I’ve had a hard time.”

“Six years is quite long…most married couples have problems by then.” Lin says, “It’s normal. Going through difficulties ranging from various reasons either with money or fidelity – having ups and downs.”

You take a deep breath trying to keep your heartbeat steady. “I barely remember having an up…”

She stares at you, and you don’t look at her. Instead you stare at the small burgundy table on the side of your sofa. It separated your chair with hers.

“…Can you tell me a bit about your husband, ___? Why don’t start by telling me the last up you do remember?”

At that, you finally look up at her. Was there an up you remember? For a large portion of your life, you had thought that every single moment with Jimin was an up. But when it came down to it, that wasn’t the truth. Jimin spent tremendous amounts of time breaking his promises to you. You actually remember the last promise he kept…how innocent the display of your relationship was back then…

The morning was pure white.  

Or at least it felt like so in your cramped dorm room where you spent another day lying next to the only other body you desired. The craving was an ache on par with stories that are never finished or poems with no end. You wonder if this is how it would always be; you longing for him while being so close, as well as lingering on the edges of how long this would last, when he would get up and leave you. Then you can crave him for an eternity.  

Oh, how you dreaded that day. You couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t fathom it, you couldn’t even conjure up the courage to acknowledge it. But it was inevitable, wasn’t it? Out of the thousands who want him, the millions who would do anything for him – what could have made you so special?

“What are you staring at?” He asks, softly turning his sleepy eyes to you.

His gaze raises your heartbeat, you feel a blush crawl up your bare spine. He’s been quieter these days, always seeming like he was in a deep stupor. A covered silence behind his beautiful mind. Everything was domestic and wholesome, your mind felt relaxed.  

“I’m looking at my world…” You whisper, close to his ear as your lips brush against the outer lobe.  

For a moment he just stares before he lets out a breathy laugh. “Cheesy.”

You smile, head molding into his shouldering with ease. Sex with him was always like a gentle wave, slowly covering your whole body in its warmth. His body was warmer than your comforter and his skin more alluring than any sight offered to your eyes.

“Says you.”

“Oh?” He quirks an eyebrow up making you nod

“Remember when you took me to the arcade and kept trying to win me that fat round stuffed whale for 2 hours?”

“Pfft, and I never even won that, did I?” He scrunches his nose in mock anger

“Exactly.” You giggle

“Hmm…but do you remember you stood there and encouraged me on the whole time. Didn’t complain once.”

Of course, you remember that day. The heels you wore were so prickly, your feet were sore for a week. Still you didn’t want to discourage Jimin, who was trying so hard for you. Or maybe he was just to immersed in the game, but it didn’t matter. None of that mattered but the fact that Jimin was with you.

“You didn’t complain when my car broke down in the snow on that abandoned road. Nor when I insisted to go see Candyman instead of whatever romcom movie you had in mind… I’ve always love that about you.”

I love that about you.

“How can I ever complain when you’re having fun…I’m not the complaining type of girl anyway.”

“You’re right, you aren’t like the other girls.” Jimin turns to face you completely, a soft grin on your face, “Maybe that’s why I like you too much.”

“R-really?” You flush as he laughs. It was always so easy for him, wasn’t it? “Cheesy.”

“But you love it.” Jimin bites his lower lip and well, you couldn’t deny that. He leans in just then, catching your fleeting eyes before he tenderly connects your lips. You couldn’t deny him then either. Your mouths move in a languid fashion, tongues tasting the deepest corners slowly.

He tasted of honey. That sweet, addictive pleasure.

After a few seconds you both part, Jimin hums with a lazy smirk. Your stares battle infinity before he looks at the clock. “Shit…I should run, my boss needs me to come in early today.”

“Oh, okay.” You say, masking your dejection when he gets up to put his shirt on. Jimin always hated his bosses. Actually, he seemed to have a problem with any figure who displayed authority over him.

“…Jimin…” You call out to him and he looks at you over his shoulder. “You’ll come back tonight, right?”

“…Right.” He says with a smile.

“Promise?” Your voice is so quiet it disappears with the sounds he makes as he shuffles to get up. So you just watch as he gets ready, the yearning in your heart and mind stirring again as you glare a hole into his muscular back. And suddenly he turns, with that same smile on his face. The one that has entrapped your heart many times before.

“I promise.”

And that was the last promise he actually fulfilled.

“That sounds so sweet.” Lin pulls you out from your thoughts and you take notice of the gentle smile gracing your features.

“It was.”

“How long ago was this?” she questions

“…”

“___?”

“Si-…seven years ago”

She frowns, furrowing her eyebrows “And how long have the two of you been married again?”

“Six years.”

“Then what have the last six years been like for you?” She asks softly

“He’s fucking another girl.” You calmly state as the room goes silent. The only thing you could hear were the morning birds outside the window and your sullen breaths. Thinking about the last six years made you upset…you couldn’t do anything to change that. Your grip on the glass becomes tighter, and you notice you’ve left prints again. So, you quickly begin wiping them. “He’s been…fucking other girls.”

…

“…I see…why don’t you start from the beginning.”

And in a moment, you’re spilling it all. Every single tortuous detail from your spousal life. Jimin’s promises, his lies. Every time he shut you down or off. Whenever he created distance. Jessica. Mina. Tina. All of last month, as if it was a story written in a word document. Every single pain you felt. You were crying by the end of it. Both from the searing lump in your throat and from the dreadful feeling of betraying your husband by not keeping your marriage’s confidentiality.  

Why did you always feel so guilty?

You were sobbing into your palm as the doctor offers you a Kleenex. Wiping away at your tears, you take a glimpse at her expression. It had somewhat hardened in what you think is sympathy…but you couldn’t describe it well.

“Is there anyone you’ve spoken to about your husband’s infidelity other than Irene or Yoongi?”

“No.” You sniffle

“What about your mom?”

“I…I barely see her. Last time I t-talked to her was on the phone a year ago…on my birthday. And even if I d-did…I doubt I’d tell her.”

Lin takes a deep breath, “I see.” She commences to write something down once again on her clipboard. “Infidelity can be damaging in all sorts of way to an individual…especially to one’s self confidence.”

She looks at you “Do you feel that you have lost your sense of self-worth?”

“I wouldn’t know…I’m not sure I ever had any.”

This time, she takes off her glasses to hold in her fingers as she rests her knuckles under her jaw.

“While you’ve been here, I noticed you gave vague and short replies as if you didn’t want to talk in the first place when that’s exactly what you said you came to do. And you’re sitting at the edge of your seat.” She points at your hips and you immediately look down, “You’re trying to not leave a mark of your presence in the room, just like in the lobby…even the glass…you’ve marked off your prints around three times now?”

Were you really doing all of that? You felt embarrassed.

Her eyes immediately soften, and she speaks in a slower tone, “I just want you to tell me why you keep trying to make yourself as insignificant as possible. Why do you only become full of life at the mention of your husband?”

You wish you had an answer for her, but you don’t. Huh, how funny is it that this is the one time your perfectionism fails you. The one time you fail to provide an answer. Instead you opt to stare at the small table again. There were books on the table…one particular one stacked on top that caught your eye.

Her Body and Other Parties, the title read.

Lin notices where you were gazing off at.  

“…___...can I ask you something private? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”

Well she knew so much already. How can yet another intimate fact hurt? So, you nod meekly.

“How is your sex life?”

“Huh?” You make eye contact immediately after processing what she just said

“Can you tell me the last time you made love with Jimin?”

“Uh…um… uh-we haven’t been, I mean I can’t…with him.”

“Why?”

“Because when I tried to…Tina appeared in my head and I just…”

“Alright.” She says, looking ahead as if in thought. “Then when was the last time you were able to?”  

You try to think, “Around 3 months ago.”

“Before Tina then. And you’ve been sexually active occasionally before that, yes?”

“Yes.”

“How was it then? Did he make you feel good?”

“Yes…I think?”

She gives you a certain look, “You think? What do you mean by that?”

“I mean it’s Jimin…everything feels good with Jimin.”

“Were you able to reach an orgasm with Jimin?”

Silence puddles the room.

“No.” You whisper in the smallest voice

“…___, can you tell me how long it has been since your husband gave you an orgasm?”

There’s a strumming inside you and you feel your insides pound. She said you didn’t have to answer right?

“Since…Jessica.” You murmur her name so low you don’t think she heard it. But the way she clicks her pen on tells you otherwise.

“…Can you tell me how many years it has been?”

“…”

“If you don’t want to answer it, that’s all right. We can talk about something else.”

“5 years.”

“…I see…and before that?”

“Before that…I always came before Jimin. It was surreal to have him above me…inside me. I felt so…loved.”

Lin glances out a window for a few seconds, seemingly in thought. Then she brings her attention back onto you. “Has Jimin ever noticed?

You snort at that, to which she raises a brow. Clearing your throat, you speak again.

“No, he hasn’t noticed. I fake them.”

“So, you let him have sex with you, never once felt satisfied and didn’t complain?”

You look down at your glass once again, “I…I didn’t want him to not touch me.”

Lin nods, waiting for you to continue.

“I wanted him to love me…to only look at me. Not being able to cum…is all my fault anyway. Something…must be wrong with me.” You wipe the tears loitering your sockets with your crumpled Kleenex.

“No. This isn’t your fault.” Lin states before she sighs, rubbing at her neck. “I’ve heard that before in a lot of my female patients. Yet it still manages to amaze me.”  

“___,” She addresses you with full attention, making you straighten your spine, “Recently, I have been reading books on female sexuality and happiness. One of them being this-” She picks up the book you were looking at “-‘Her Body and Other Parties’ by Carmen Maria Machado. And I have come to notice a pattern between a woman’s sensuality and her self-esteem.”

Lin pauses, putting the book back down and looking back at you to make sure you were keeping up with her, making you nod in return.

“If I may ask…have you, by chance, brought yourself to an orgasm in the past 5 years?”

“Huh?”  

“Have you ever masturbated?”

“Umm…no…”

“Maybe once when you were a teen? College, perhaps?”

“No.”

Like she had an epiphany she writes down something yet again on her clipboard.  

“Then that’s what I want you to do before our next session. Educate yourself on healthy masturbation.”

Your jaw drops open at her statement, a string of questions leaving your lips. What did she just say? There was no way you’d be capable of doing something like that! You almost died just thinking about-  

“___, I know it seems crazy, but masturbation is directly linked to a women’s mental health. It helps you gain confidence, release stress, produces endorphins and strengthens your immune system. We will be able to find out a lot about you, such as if you are interested in the idea of sex or not, either which is fine. It can also tell us if Jimin’s infidelity has been causing you subconscious psychological damage.”

Your mouth shuts as she lists her reasons.

“You have spent your life, giving yourself away. To your mom, to Jimin, to your work. You spent your life trying to become someone they’d love, that you forgot about who you are. There’s barely any of the real you left inside.” She points at your chest, “I need you to find out what you want, the things you like. The pleasures YOU seek.”

“I want you to learn about yourself. Learn how to properly care for yourself…how to love yourself.”

As her words register in your brain, you think back to a couple days ago. About how you sat with Irene, outside that small café. Not understanding that you genuinely liked cooking, just thought you did it to make your mom or Jimin happy. And about how good it felt, how amazing it was to realize there was a part of your personality not molded from the people who took advantage of you. It was…liberating.

“O…okay, but how do I…I mean my sessions with Jimin were all soft…I’ve never done anything myself before.”

“It’s up to you really…why don’t you start out by using a toy? You’ve missed out for a long while, so yes. I think a toy would help you.” She smiles at you and you want to stuff your face into the couch.

Could today get any stranger?

Suddenly a timer beeps causing Lin to look back at her desk.

“Oh, that’s all the time we have for now ___,” She says standing up, and you rush to stand with her, placing the glass back on the table. “I hope you can successfully complete this task I’ve assigned you, and I’ll meet you the same time next week, alright?”

She extends her hand, and you take it immediately “Umm, yes definitely.”

With the pleasantries out the way, you carefully make your way towards the door. Once you place your palm on the door handle, Lin calls out to you once again,

“Oh, and no thinking about Jimin while completing my assignment! This is about you and only you after all.”

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-”

“Irene, please stop laughing.” You groan into the receiver, pinching the bridge of your nose in embarrassment.

“Sorr-I just ahhahahah, no wait-” She wheezes over the other line. Taking a deep breath, she consoles herself. “Alright, so let me get this straight. I’m out of town for a week and you end up going to a therapist who tells you to jerk yourself off on the first session?”

“Ireeenneee,” You whine, “She’s a smart lady. She’s trying to help me.”

“Oh, she’s definitely trying to help you alright.” Irene snickers and you huff in frustration. Maybe you shouldn’t have called her to tell her about your Saturday night plans.

“Okay, okay, no more jokes. So, are you going to do it?”

“Yes…I mean I don’t know…I’m a bit nervous.”

“You haven’t came in 5 years. As a girl with a healthy libido, that would emotionally damage the hell out of me. Maybe the Doc’s onto something.” Irene states

“You think so?” This is what you wanted as usual. Reassurance.

“I don’t know to be honest…why don’t you try it out and tell me? You sure you bought the right item?”

You stare at the small unwrapped object in front of you. A bullet vibrator. All of that internet searching for a pink oval-shaped ball.

“I…think…” You gulp, becoming slightly intimidated

“Well I think you’re going to have an amazing night my princess.” Irene coos making you blush

“I-I-I am hanging up on you now!” You pout, flustered

“Wait, no I wa-”

With a huff you end the call, throwing your phone off to the side. Again, you were left doing nothing but staring at your toy. It just laid there, staring back at you. The atmosphere of your room felt oddly tense.

“Okay…be gentle.” You whisper to it. It doesn’t respond.

You pick it up carefully, taking off your robe and laying down against your mattress.

…Now what?

You were a grown woman; it was healthy to explore your sexuality. That’s what those internet articles and female magazines told you, all written in a perky tone to somehow connect with the modern working woman. Although you being you, you couldn’t help but point out their spelling mistakes.

That’s not the point, you huff, staring at your ceiling in frustration. What were you supposed to do right now? Your core was exposed to the air, the bullet vibrator stayed stiff in your left palm and you felt kind of ashamed in this position.

No thinking about Jimin, you recall Lin warning you. How were you supposed to do that? Who else would ever make you feel the way Jimin made you feel? Granted, he didn’t actually make you cum in the past few years, making love with him still felt good.

Or at least you think what you had with him felt good. At the times he made love with you, you desperately tried to convince yourself that it was different with you than with Jessica or Mina. That you were special to him and they were just side pieces. It…didn’t really work. Nevertheless, there wasn’t anyone who made you feel as bright as Jimin, no one you made you flustered and left you stuttering.

Well except maybe Irene and her smart mouth.

You giggle as you think of your friend. Before you begin to ponder on the subject a bit too long. Irene did have a pretty mouth. Her lips were always so cherry red and eyes foxy and seductive. It was always difficult to look at her straight in the face, but she made you sure you did no matter what. She was so assertive.

It was then, when you were dreaming about her intense ogling that your hips shifted slightly, your exposed core aching. H…How would Irene feel around your…your…

“Ah-” You moaned, your arm sliding down until your fingers made contact with your folds. Your eyes were closed so you could better picture her jet-black hair, the lax strands perfectly framing her small face. Your mouth was shaped as an O, as your fingers brushed through your folds, sliding them across the lax skin, before stretching them open, becoming wetter by the second.

“Nn-ahh.” You cry out softly as you rub around your clit. Your mind filling with a deep haze. This was so strange, you’ve never thought of women this way. But then again, you haven’t thought of anyone this way except for your husband.

“Nuh uh~” You hear the tender tone of a feminine voice echo, and you strain to look between your thighs to spot your smirking vixen of a best friend, “No thinking of him here.”

She coos before she tips her tongue out, her face dropping into your middle. Whimpering loudly, you arch your back off the bed as you feel her take you into her mouth, wet muscle playing around with your juices. She slid it up, down and across, pinch your nipple as she sucked on your nectar.

“oh my- I-Ire-” You hear her snicker, her laughter shooting straight through your spine. While still in a foggy daze, you squeeze the vibrator in your left palm, before pressing the small power button with your thumb. Your breathing was heavy, the device buzzing slightly in your hand as you brought it down.

For a moment you hesitated, the object’s frequency intimidating you. So, with a deep breath, you shut your lids, connecting the vibrator with your clit. Immediately a wave of pleasure washed over you, your eyes shot open as you groaned. It was as if Irene’s tongue was molded to the shape deep inside of you. Your body raised in temperature.  

Although only connected to one part, you could feel the toy course throughout every limb. It left you shivering as you clutched the bedsheet beside your hips with your wet digits. You could feel your thighs, drenched in your sweetness, the air around them cooler, softer. Irene’s tongue increased in speed, sending your mind spiraling.

“O-OH mm-” You don’t know why you were trying to hold back your voice, but you couldn’t help it for some reason.

“Don’t hold back.” You suddenly hear, and you break out of your bewilderment to find another person on top of you. Shadowing over you was straight black hair, lusting doe eyes and soft rabbit features passionately regarding you. “I want to hear you.” He whispers as his large arms enclose around your head.

Why was he here?

Did you somehow want him to be here? You didn’t know. All you did know was that there was a knot forming inside of you, coiling around your insides with a viper like grip as you continued to fall into his stare. It felt so good, so euphoric. The pleasure was addicting.

You felt like you were going crazy, fingers slowly linking to your cunt once again. Rubbing circles as the device vibrated through your bundle of nerves. This wasn’t right, you shouldn’t be thinking about him. But the heat from his body made you feel lightheaded, whimpers escaping you like crazy. It was so wrong, but you felt so good in the moment.

“You’re so pretty like this.” Jungkook murmurs, moving away your hair sticking to your face. In a second Jungkook took the device away from you, winking at you. Confused, you tilted your head at him on the pillow before your eyes suddenly rolled into the back of your head.

He amped the vibration, placing the toy halfway inside of you. Your hips moved off the bed, fingers leaking wet with your nectar as you played with your clit. You wanted him inside of you so bad. It’s not that you wanted to conceive this very image, the sane you would never ever do something like this but fuck you don’t know what the fuck was wrong with you in that moment. And you didn’t care.

You imagine Jungkook drilling inside you, his fat dick ripping through your insides as the bed shook with every thrust. That was all it took to push you over the edge. And soon you were cumming, screaming out his name.

“J-Jungkook, yes! Oh God!”  

A heavy wave of pleasure washes over you, stars obstructing your sight. Your mouth hung open as your pussy convulsed. Shuddering through the tremendous sensation, you fall back onto the mattress with a thump, and the toy helps you ride out your orgasm.

“Haah...haa...”

BzzzBzzz

The only noises that were left were of your excessive breathing and the strumming of the bullet vibrator. It felt like all your energy had suddenly left you, you forgot how powerful orgasms were until now. Soon finding it to be painful, you remove the toy from inside you, pressing the power button as you hold it up to your face. It was sticky wet, your juices smothered around the pink device like glaze.

Glazed donuts.  

Blushing, you throw it to the side, still trying to process everything that just occurred. Wow. That was…Irene…and then Jungkook. You jump around, squealing into your pillow. What just happened?! Why did you imagine those two out of everyone? How will you ever face them again?

Even after everything was done, you couldn’t help the way your body felt so thrilled and satisfied. For some reason, you felt like you were floating on cloud 9. It felt so out of place, you hadn’t felt this way with Jimin ever. Not even on your best days. Who knew something so taboo could turn you on so much?  

Fuck.

You turn so your back rested against the bed again, before slamming your hands onto your face. Were you going to have to explain all of this to your therapist? No way were you going to tell her who you jacked off to. As you were overthinking and worrying about your near future, you suddenly began to feel very drained and numb. You blinked lazily, the familiar weariness akin to sleep.  

It took you by surprise, you hadn’t been able to fall asleep without sleeping pills for a long time now. As you bring your arms back down to look at the ceiling, you’re faced with your empty bedroom one again. Jimin had always been gentle with you, hadn’t he? It was another reason you loved him as much as you did. When you both made love, it felt like he could never hurt you.

Reality kicks in and a longing surrounds you. It was inevitable, you were bound to remember him again. You couldn’t help but wish your husband was here with you to share your happiness.

You wish he was here with you to see your growth, to be proud of you. You wish he was here with you and you couldn’t help but feel that yearning for him like you’ve always felt. You really wish he could love you. Looks like you hadn’t exactly passed this task, since you weren’t supposed to think about Jimin but you didn’t care. More than anything, you wanted him home.

Old habits don’t just die after one success.

So, as the thought of your vacant house infected you, before you could dwell on the topic further. Before you took another pill, feeding your insides with your own poison. Become a moping drone, a sickened shell once again, you shut your eyes. Blocked out the evil world before you and relaxed every muscle, every scar in your brain. It was the only thing you could think of doing. Thankfully your spent energy agrees with you.

Before Jimin could take over you once more, without ever lifting a muscle.

You fell asleep, letting yourself feel drained and dreaming of the wedding and the bright shore.

It was inevitable.

Your eyes flutter open to a soft white room. The sunlight was peeking through the curtains, lighting up the canvas across your orbs. You wriggle your toes about, slowly seeping into full conscious.

Once you can make out the ceiling above you, you stretch your muscles before sitting up.

“Ji-”

Turning on your side, you place your palm down on the cotton sheets beside you. A palm you meant to place on a body that was meant to be on the bed. Beside you.

“Right.” You whisper, staring at the cold spring empty of life and bringing your hand back to your lap.

No one’s there.

Sighing, you swing your legs off the bed and onto the floor – the fluffy carpet molding into your feet. You push yourself up, the action causing the sheets to slither off your naked body and expose your nipples to the chill atmosphere. Again, you stretch your tendons, raising your arms above your head and lifting the bottom soles of your feet off the ground. Your back curves and your eyes clenched shut. It’s been a while since you had fell asleep without pills.

Blinking lazily at nothing in particular, you sluggishly turn your body to the direction of the bathroom. You begin to saunter across your room, reveling in the peaceful silence of a sunny Sunday. As you’re a few steps from the door, your gaze catches onto the full-length body mirror set just aside.

It makes you halt in your tracks. A moment passes by before you step closer to your reflection in fascination.

Have you always looked like this?

Is this the way your hair falls over you face? You think as you run your fingers through your soft locks – bringing forward a single strand to the front of your face to focus in on. Slowly your gaze falls back to the mirror and you tilt your head. Sliding your digits onto your face, the tips of your pointer and middle fingers caressing the peak of your nose, gradually underneath your jaw and upon your neck.

Is this how your body was shaped?

You take it all in. Captivated by the glowing expanse of your silky skin, the gentle rhythm of your chest, and the highs of your curves you ran a palm over. Shuddering as a strangely new sensation waltzes within you. The sun’s rays wrap around you like gold, highlighting every mole and freckle settled into your casing. Scars and marks from forgotten memories finding shelter under the spotlight. Every secret exposed in the flare of the replication. It felt like you had just stepped out of a decaying cocoon – stitched together by the molding twined fabric of your uncertainties.

And the you who emerged shone.

There were sparks of glitter all around you. Tiny angels spinning threads of new-found purity onto the secret corners of your soul.

A once caged bird, with virginal wings as large as her innocent heart. Who wears her crown fragile; while her refined mind heals from the battles with the toxicity in amour. Her beauty is an ode to the agile cosmic, lucky enough to hold her able within its seams. Your dimensions were your unique, the line between pleasure and hurt fitted across your stomach.

It was beautifully raw outside that rotten cocoon. You spread your arms out, relishing in the way your body weaves between space and time as your insides melt perfectly into the shape of your skin. Every bone, every ounce of lush, the fruits of your divine frame. The mountains and hills spread amongst your flesh – the caves and burrows layered one on top of the other.  It was all beautiful. Raw, real and radiant. Like a pallet with too many colors splattered amongst the wood, splashes from aches and pain and memories and gain.

Your pallet.

As the pearls of your pupils rake through your figure, they suddenly land on your unclothed core. You let out a shaky exhale, eyes glossing and lashes fluttering. Carefully you guide your hand to your lower region until your fingers make contact with your wet folds. A shiver runs through you, goosebumps poking through your soft pores. Awakening the images of last night; of the whimpers and aches. Of the satisfaction and the explosion of your confined stellar.

This was you. Your perfect frame, your flawless physique, your structured identity.

Was it the early morning air? The first good sleep in years? Or the sensual night before?

…Did it matter?

A smile graces your lips as you wrap your arms around yourself. The slick from your nether regions painted amongst your fingers staining the upper part of your left arm.

You were just happy to be awake.

_

“They’re pretty, right?”

He holds up the peonies clutched in his hand at you, tilting his head so you could see him just behind the stunning flowers. He was everything for you; your energy, your medicine, your happiness. You wanted to melt.

“Yes.” You reply, trying to sound happy; less depressed.

He frowns and it goes straight to your heart, “Sorry”

“For?” He asks, throwing the plant on the couch. Not making eye contact.

Suddenly you wanted to cry. You’re too sensitive to all of his emotions and he knows it. Uses it to his pleasure. It was amazing – how some words had so much power over you.

For being sad. For not living up to your expectations.

“I love them Jimin.” You smile, placing your hands on each side of his face and turning him to you. “I love you.”

And he’s happy. The sun is back on his face.

On the other hand, you feel like the unlit side of the moon. Especially when Jimin engulfs you in a smothering hug.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

From me or Jessica? You think. It had only been a week since the dire revelation and your insides were crumbling. He had sex with you time and time again, but you felt nothing. Something was wrong with you, but you didn’t want to tell him.

You wanted him to be happy. Even if you hated yourself.

As you fit into his arms, you stare at your reflection in the mirror on the back wall. How ugly…how unworthy. No wonder he cheated on you. No wonder he found someone better.

He loves you too, he says.

But you couldn’t help hate yourself.

Ok. What the hell was a T-front string?

You squint your eyes at the screen, rereading Irene’s text for the tenth time.  

Your heels were clacking the floor below you, as you speed walked through the mall with a small giftbag in hand. A while after your little intimate moment with yourself, you had called up your friend to speak to her about the rejuvenation you experienced in excitement. She was very happy for you, giggling through the receiver like a child. It made you smile.

Although, no matter how much she pestered you, you refused to spill the beans about who you ended up jerking off about. Irene was persistent, naming off every actor and model she knew. And you on the other hand had no idea who half of them were. Thankfully, she couldn’t get you to spill the beans. You dreaded her reaction if she ever did find out.

After warding off her interrogation and chatting about something mundane, she had suggested for you to go to the mall so she can help you find some useful ‘items’ for women since you had nothing else planned. Your interest was piqued, thinking it might be items such as the world’s most comfortable bra or scrunchies that never go missing. Yet as you parked your car in the lot, and tentatively made your way inside – you had given up all hope for your superpowered hair ties.

None of the items Irene had been texting you made any sense.  

‘Double D Balls Dildo. Make sure the balls are squishy!’    

‘Shower Sex Foothold. Very useful for shaving your legs. Other things as well I guess.’

???

In an array of confusion, you had gone up to a random employee to ask him what exactly Doc Johnson’s “The Fist” was. The paling look he gave you in return has you traumatized for life. Never again would you ask anyone to explain anything Irene tells you.

As she continued to text you severe objects to buy, you just shook your head while buying a little something of your own. Letting her think you were following what she said of course. You could just imagine the look on her face, the tiny snicker as she continues to lightheartedly play around with your innocence. There was a small jewelry shop you loved in this mall, one Jimin would bring you to after he got a promotion or when it was your birthday.

You bought a small bracelet for Irene from said shop; to thank her for her friendship and for listening to you mope about Jimin. Satisfied with your purchase, and only this purchase – you decided to head out of the place. Your legs were practically running out of the mall, trying to get back home. It’s actually been like this for the past few days.

Since he disappeared.

Every time you stepped out of your apartment, even for a few minutes, you would rush back at twice the speed. It was as if…you were hoping that once you step inside. Once you’re in the sanctuary of your house, he’d be there too. He’d turn around and you could run into his warm arms again. And he’d promise you – genuinely promise – he’ll never leave again. Ever. It was a fairytale reunion made for a dreamy girl. Ridiculous, but you still wished it to be true.

For some reason, you were especially eager to get home today. Even more than usual. When you made it to the first floor and could see the doors you came in from, your phone abruptly buzzed again. Huffing, you open the device, trying to see what nonsense Irene sent you this time.  

You were too busy checking your phone to see where you were going. Your legs were rushing a bit too much to notice the other pairs of legs walking in your direction.

“Whoa-”

“Oww-”

That’s when you ended up bumping into another body with a small thud. The phone in your hand crashing onto the ground, sliding away from your peripheral vision on the floor. Both of you wobbled around a bit but grabbed onto the others arms to seek balance. Once you stood sturdy, you immediately searched around for your missing phone with your head turning about in a frenzy. It didn’t take you long to spot it as it didn’t travel too far, ending up right next to the girl’s leg. In relief you sigh, bending down to pick it up to brush the specks of dust and surveille the damage. The girl on your arm doesn’t move an inch, like she was frozen in place.

After you’ve made sure it’s not broken and everything was working properly, you smiled. Looking up at the girl to apologize.

“Oh, I’m sorr-”

A gasp escapes your throat.

Your eyes instantly widen – in an eerily painful way as your jaw fails you. Your insides plummet with a chaotic mix of anger, confusion, and dread swirling through you – thundering up a storm that has you stagnant. The atmosphere takes a sudden drop in temperature and a chill runs down your spine at the cold air. Subconsciously, you take a step back. Away from the sight before you.

“H-hey ___, long time no see.”

In return, the girl stands there in as much discomfort and anxiousness as you. Shifting on her feet, she sends you an awkward smile. A smile you were used to seeing daily at one point in your life. A smile you grew to reluctantly dislike over the years. Your muscles start to constrict.

“Mina.” A whisper leaks from your lips.

Clink, clank.

You listen in to the busy atmosphere surrounding you while sitting still in your wooden seat. Waitresses passing by, the small chatter, the clinging and clanging of cups and forks. It was all more interesting to you than the predicament at hand right now. There was nothing to really focus in on, except the table in front of you and its stiff glass casing. Which you were eyeing with lasers shooting out of your orbs.

The tension in the air was thick.

And the girl sitting opposite to you was looking at you a bit too anxiously, failing to be subtle with her regard. You could tell she was playing with her fingers underneath the table, a habit you had noticed many times before. Almost four years ago.

“H..how have you been?” She starts, making you look up at her.

As soon as you acknowledge her, her face drops. Like she was afraid of your judgement. She clears her throat.  

“I-it’s nice to see you again…” She strains, “After all these years…you look great.”

There’s an awkward silence that goes by as you’re slow to register her words. It was as if your brain doesn’t want to recognize the situation you’re in – trying to run away from you rather than recall any more past memories.

“It’s been quite long.” You manage to make out, “I’ve been well.”

Why did you lie to her? Were you that afraid of her finding out the truth?

“T-that’s good.” Mina replies a bit too fast.

…

Another awkward silence engulfs your vicinity as you both proceed to poke holes through the table.

“All right, here you are!” A shout wakes you both, making your shoulders jump. “One glass of water and one small coffee, one cream and two sugars.”

A lady places down your coffee cup in front of you, and you exhale at the balmy steam warming up your otherwise cold face.

“Anything else?” She chirps with a small tray in hand

“That’ll be all, thank you.” Mina responds to which the lady nods and leaves with a smile

Mina watches you as you stir your coffee mindlessly. You could tell there was a lot running through her mind like you.  

She hasn’t changed much. Just a couple of alters you could spot. Like how her hair’s a bit longer now, reaching just above the conjecture between her neck and her shoulder and dyed a darker color. A few more piercings graced the left side of her ear now. There was also a small tattoo on her ring finger – some sort of symbol in a mix of purple and red. On the other hand, her style hadn’t changed at all. She still wore those oversized black hoodies and white sneakers. You hide a smile as her dark top almost drowns her.

Mina was as beautiful as you remember.

Suddenly, she huffs, picking up her water.  

Gulp, gulp, gulp

You gape at her with wide eyes as she drinks the whole glass in one go. She sets it down with a clang, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Then her orbs connect with yours, as she continues to stareat you with an unreadable expression. For a second, you catch her regarding the gift bag by your side.

“___, I-” She starts off strong, faced focused and seeming like she knows what she’s going to say.

But as her linger remains, she loses her grip – mouth slacking and concentrated expression failing.

“I…”

“What is it?” You say in a low yet clear tone of voice

“I…God! I don’t know how to say this!” She places her elbows on the table, burrowing her face into her palms. Her outburst turns a few heads to which you shift uncomfortably to.

“Are you alright?” You reach over and place a hand on her wrist, which has her removing her hand covering her face to stare at the place you were touching her. She spots your ring.

“Are you still with Jimin?” She whispers

“…yes.” You say, although it’s not exactly the truth.

You retract your hand and her eyes follow it till they land back on you.

“How is he?” Mina asks, even quieter than before

“He’s well.” You’re not sure how else to answer. Honestly, you didn’t even want to answer.

She scoffs, “Good for him.”

The hate in her tone catches you off guard, your eyebrows furrowing as you stare at the now frowning girl.

“…Wha-”

“Good for him. Park Jimin. Great. Wonderful. Of fucking course he’d be well, he’s the one and only Park Jimin. The nicest guy in the world. Light of everyone’s fucking life. Sweet, kind, charming Park Jimin. Let me go jump off a cliff.”

She spits each word with abhorrence laced in her tongue. Her eyes squint in anger and her fist clenches the ends of her long sleeves. You sit there, shocked and confused.

When she notices the expression on your face, she unwinds. Moving her arms off the table and sitting up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you…I just…” Taking a deep breath, she closes here eyes to contemplate something. Before looking up at you once again, “I always wanted to apologize for what I did to you.”

…

A third silence passes you both. Your brain was now fully awake and taking in each and every word.

“There’s not a day I don’t think about it…what I did to you…the mistakes I’ve made.” Mina’s voice cracks halfway as her eyes become glossy. For some reason, your chest starts to ache. “I regretted it every single day ever since you left. And I always, always wanted to talk to you one last time. I-if that’s okay with you?”

She halts to study your reaction. You nod, urging her to continue.

“…It’s not a secret – what I did over the course of half a year. What I allowed to happen…” She sniffles, staring at the gift bag as a tear falls down her eye. “It’s just…you meet this guy, right? A polite, charming, extraordinarily handsome guy, and he’s great. And he’s married which is also great but-”

“He sees you, like…he actually sees you for you and he befriends you. And he doesn’t tell you to change unlike other guys. He doesn’t turn his nose up at your quirks and doesn’t hold animosity in his eyes. He tells you his secrets…or what you think are his secrets and he appreciates you.”

She takes a deep breath, her nose running and cheeks rosy. Taking a napkin from the table’s corner, she wipes the tears littering her face as your own eyes well up. So this was how Jimin was in her mind compared to yours. There were a lot of similarities and a lot of differences.

“And so,” Mina strains, “You fall for him. Even though it’s wrong and even though he’s m-married. Even though his wife is a wonderful person, y-you fall so, so hard. And when he kisses you while he’s a drunk, giggling, beautiful mess…you don’t stop him.”

You close your eyes as the first tears makes its way down your cheek. Even though there were a lot of differences, the feelings were the same.

“Y-you don’t stop after the first time. Nor after the second and then the third… and it just keeps going on and on and on. Until it’s too late to stop. Even though the guilt eats you alive. Even though you stop eating and stop sleeping and no one can see the bags under your eyes, when he smiles at you-”

Mina shows you a pained smile, “When he smiles at you, and his eyes crinkle and his nose buttons. You think it’s all – the pain, the secrets – it’s all worth it. Because you just feel so damn special for some reason. So, you throw yourself down the drain, become the woman you never wanted in a relationship that would never go anywhere. You lie until your teeth start rotting and hide until the shame stops consuming your heart.”

You wipe your tears with the back of your hand, trying to calm your senses by pursing your lips.

“Then one day…he tells you he doesn’t need you anymore. That you never meant anything to him and it’s over.” Mina’s stop crying now. She stares at the table once again, this time looking at her reflection in the glass. “And you don’t put up a fight, because you knew this was coming. It was inevitable. A real relationship can never be based on a lie. All you’re left with is the person you’ve become.”

“In the end…all you did was become a liar that hates herself. Someone who hurt a woman who’s been nothing but kind to her. Someone who shut everyone out till the one guy she’s wanted shuts her out… that’s the conclusion.”

You let out a shaky exhale, your body lagging and mind numbing. There’s yet another moment of silence as you process everything you’ve just heard. Your feelings…were just the same.

“I’m sorry.” Your eyes shoot up as Mina speaks up once again, “I’m sorry for what I did to you and for all the things I let happen.”

“I understand if you don’t forgive me. And I understand if you never want to see me again. I…just wanted to tell you that you were great. You were a great wife, and a great friend…a great cook haha...and a great person. You deserved better than all of this. You deserved better than all of us.”

“And...and I know how it feels…I…I dated someone after Jimin… and huh ironically-” Mina lets out a breathless laugh, “He cheated on me… and I know I deserve I-”

“No.” You interrupted her, “No one deserves that.”

Mina pauses as she stares at you, “It really hurts…it’s not just them loving someone else, but them breaking your trust and connection. Completely disregarding your feelings and disrespecting you. And something like that coming from someone you love – someone’s who’s supposed to love you…breaks you apart from the inside. And that’s why I now understand what kind of a person Park Jimin was. A manipulative, lying piece of shit who immediately uses people’s vulnerabilities for his own pleasures.”

…

“I hope one day you’re able to move on from what I’ve done but…I will always carry what I did to you. I’ll continue to fall into toxic relationships and continue to have trust and commitment issues for the rest of my life.”

You frown at the feeble girl in front of you. Was this what you wanted from her? From Jessica? Is this what you want for Tina? Would this satisfy your idea of karma?

“Thank you…for apologizing…for speaking your truth.” You began slowly, Mina’s inflamed face staring at you,  

“I always tried to understand why you did it. How you could do that to me when you’ve met me and knew me and…my head was just a mess for the longest time…but now…I just hope you’re able to move on from this as well…I don’t know if I can truly forgive you but I don’t want to hate you any longer. I spent so much energy trying to hate you and the other girls…I compared myself to you, I looked down on you…I ran away from you.  

“But what was it that you owed me at that my husband didn’t owe me a hundred times more?”

Trying to piece your thoughts together you sigh, “The you I conjured up in my mind was a lot more characterless and viler. But now it just seems like I was trying to blame anybody but Jimin for his own mistakes. That’s the whole idea behind homewrecker, huh? I blamed you, I blamed my mother, I blamed myself. I blamed every single person except Jimin. And I shouldn’t have. There was no one else at greater fault. Not even you… and I no longer want to do that. I no longer want to put the blame on others.”

Mina looks away once her eyes tear up again. Her body felt sore and her insides twisted painfully. There’s no greater pain than the guilt of a woman.

“In the end we were all trying to find our happiness…anyway we could. I guess…we just searched for it in the wrong places.”

The rest of the sudden meet up was spent in silence. This abrupt hush being the last one before you finished your drink and observed the traffic around you. It felt like you both had said what you wanted, like your chests were finally free of such a huge burden. What was left was a empty feeling, satisfying but still an end.

Soon, it was time for goodbyes.

And then there you were, driving home from the longest trip you’ve ever had at a mall. You sat there, steering your car on the road, thinking just one thing. All this time, you’ve remembered nothing but bad things about her. About Jessica. And now about Tina. But what was the point in accusing them?  

What type of satisfaction had you gained from hating other women?

Did it stop your husband from cheating? Did it dissolve his sins?

What sort of people were Jessica and Tina, apart from the characters your imagination had invented?  

There were new questions you needed answers to. And there was just one person who could help you answer them all.

Just one.

Jimin was in the balcony, drinking his night away again.

Tina wouldn’t shut up tonight, he didn’t want to deal with her. But right now, he didn’t have anyone he could trust as much as her so his feet were planted in her damn apartment. As he looks up at the bleary sky, his mind wanders back to you. What were you doing at the moment?

Tsk, he scolds himself then. Why did he always think about you in the end? What did you mean to him? NOTHING. You were a toy. A toy he ended up going overboard with almost 6...no 7 years ago from tomorrow.

A toy that was causing him problems...  

Jin had called this morning. “Why doesn’t your wife know where you are?”

It infuriated him; how dare he be questioned like this. And that bastard was one to talk, he was with Jimin playing wingman anytime Jimin needed a quick fuck. Telling him he knows men shouldn’t be tied down to one woman, that men were made to pump out their population into mankind. So why was everyone acting different now?

Why were you?

He kept you under his control for so long. How did you even find out about Tina?

Why was he?

Jimin couldn’t eat for the past few days. Nothing tasted like your cooking so he couldn’t swallow it down. His sleep was fucked up and he tried to wear himself out going to the gym or having sex with Tina or someone else but nothing worked. If anything, he just felt worse. He kept remembering the cologne you came in with that one night, just which bastard were you fucking?

His grip on the glass beer is so tight, he could hear it crack. No, you couldn’t have. Jimin was sure you wouldn’t even think about another man as long as you had him. Who would?

As his heart continues to ache and yearn without him knowing why, mind numb and limbs sore, his phone begins to ring.

Speak of the devil.

...

You studied the phone in your hand, as your thumb trembled while hovering over his name.  

Why was this so hard? You’ve been upfront with him for a while now. So, what is it about today – this moment particularly – where your insides would rather shut down than hear his voice?

As you once again back out from pressing his name on your phone screen, you huff, sitting up in frustration. It shouldn’t be this hard, it’s really not a big deal. So what if you had no idea where your husband was for the past week? So what if he had his own wife sent to voicemail so many times that she had become too traumatized to call him? And so what if the biggest day of your life was tomorrow and he was still MIA? All you had to do right now, was ask about his location. Drown the wild thoughts and insecurities in your head with confirmation from the love of your life.

He owes you that much.

So, with a loud sigh, you click on his name. Ready to face the truth.

Your gut drops when it rings. Falling deeper and deeper with the first ring.

Second ring.  

Third ring.  

Fou-

“Hello?”

Gasping at the voice, you immediately put your phone next to your ear.

“Y-yes hello?”

“…___.”

You wanted to cry. He actually picked up, he really answered. “J…Jimin.”

Your whole body shivered, as if it remembered Jimin existed. He wasn’t some fever dream you mind conjured up. There was so much you wanted to tell him, which spiked up the adrenaline in your system. Oh, how you longed to speak to him.

“I heard you called Jin…” Was his immediate response. After being away from home for so long, after leaving you in the dark. He was more concerned about you talking to someone about how he left you.

“Yeah…I-I did.”

“Why?” He sounded annoyed

“Because I didn’t know how else to reach you…”

“You shouldn’t have called Jin.” He spoke again, firmly.

Biting your bottom lip, you hold back your tears. Does he think it was easy for you? Doesn’t he realize how embarrassed you were? Can’t he understand that you wouldn’t have called him if he just picked up his phone? Jin’s seen you before, he’s made you laugh before, you know him. He’s a very charming person, it’s why he’s one of Jimin’s few coworkers that you genuinely liked. Also one of the first friends Jimin made when you moved into this city.  

It’s why you were terrified that when you make the call…his high opinion of you would change. That to him you’d look like a pathetic, desperate woman whose husband casted aside. You felt so much shame and if you truly, frantically didn’t need his help, you would have never asked.

Doesn’t he know that? Does he care about you at all?

“I…I’m sorry.” You whisper

He doesn’t respond. No, you didn’t want to blame him.

“Jimin…I’m so sorry for everything…I got ahead of myself. Please Jimin…”

Still, silence.

“Jimin…I don’t know where you are…I don’t know what you’re doing but I know that I love you. I love you and I miss you and I need you so much that it hurts.”

…

“Jimin…would you please…please come home to me? Please.”

“I don’t know, ___.” He responds tiredly, “I just don’t know who you are anymore.”

By now you should have known it was useless for you to hold back tears. “You stood in that altar with me, right? You took my hand and told me you wanted to stay by my side forever. You said forever didn’t you Jimin?”

Again, you shared radio silence and you close your eyes and imagine him. His beautiful self, his past innocence. What should you do to capture his attention?

“I met Mina yesterday.”

At that you hear his breath hitch.

“W-what…where?”

“At the city mall…she’s still as pretty, you know.” You let out a giggle

“You’re prettier.” He jokes. It was so out of place but he said it casually.

You laugh. You laugh and laugh and laugh until you start to sob. Breath heaving and lungs sore, you sob into the receiver. Your face was wet, and your nose was running, you were sure you have never looked more unattractive. Being close to him once again opened up the flood of your insecurities, made you feel hyper aware of your appearance. Shame and embarrassment enfold in you once more and you feel your throat close in on yourself.

Him just casually joking around reminds you of the old days. Where you might have been broken inside but Jimin was here to mend you outside. And that’s what you needed right now, for him to glue your shards back together again. A porcelain doll is always hollow inside anyway.  

“…_-___.”

You cry louder at the sound of his voice. Your Jimin…you loved him so much.

“J-Jimin-hic-…pleas-please -hic- some home…I’ll change Jimin, I-I’ll be better, so please.”

He listens to you cry and his chest aches like someone pulled his heart out. This was something he was never good at, dealing with someone’s feelings. That’s why he never let anyone get too close, even if they felt like they were. Everyone…but you. Fuck, he shakes his head. No, you meant nothing.

But he still wanted to console you.

“T…the anniversary dinner is tomorrow, right?” He starts, his voice uncertain, “I…I’ll come then.”

“You will?” You hiccup, your own tone unsure

“I will.” He says, and this time he sounded confident. “I will come back home ___, just wait for me…”

“Promise me…”  

What else could you wish for?  

“I promise.”  

How could a little more waiting hurt you?

Jimin shuts of the phone and sighs. It seems like you were back under him, which is a relief. He smiles then, his heart soaring at the thought of seeing you again. Just imagining the look on your face would be enough to keep him satisfied for a long time.

See? You love her. A voice interrupts. It came from deep inside his chest. Conscious, they call it. He hated it more than anything. The only person Jimin loved was himself and the only person he needed was himself.

He’s not like those pathetic people that lust after him immorally. There were no similarities between him and them, there never would be. His conscious seems to disagree though, telling him once again, how much he loves her, someone like her.

Growling at his brain, he smashes the bottle down onto the balcony’s pavement. The shards scatter, glimmering in the moonlight of the pale city. He could see himself in the reflection.

And for the first time, he didn’t like who stared back.

You were waiting.

On that time of year again.

June 17th, the most special day of your life.  

You still remember it quite well; the well-lit Azul sky, the light specks of sand, the calming roar of the clear waves. It was the most beautiful morning in the universe.  

Yet you were a wreck of nerves, sweaty palms and jittery teeth. Jimin’s dad placed a hand on your quivering shoulder, your eyes shooting the gentle senior as he smiles at you consolingly. You were never close to Jimin’s parents, nonetheless they were always tremendously kind to you. A part of you felt so undeserving of their love, but Jimin would remind you that you have earned everything good in the world. Jimin…you couldn’t believe in a few moments you were marrying the love of your life. How and when did your life take such a drastic turn for the better?

Snapping from your reverie, you shyly nod your head at your new father and place your hand under his outstretched arm. And soon it starts – the piano melody signaling the curtains withdrawal.

As the fabric was removed from your vision, the picture-esqu sight came into view in front of you, making you hold your breath and faintly tighten your grip on the elder man’s arm. The audience immediately turned their heads, a pleasant expression of awe plastered on their faces. White and pink carnations, complimenting your long lacey dress, decorated the virgin painted benches and their petals littered the bleached soft satin carpet.  

And in front of it all – the audience, the flowers, your mother – stood Jimin. You lost control of your senses when you saw him. He stood perfectly still, hands clasped together and slightly taller than usual with his heeled derby’s and straightened posture. His black suit was stitched without a visible flaw, even in this bright daylight. It elongated his limbs and made them seem sturdier – rather well put as he jut his chest out ever so softly. Your eyes couldn’t break away, even as you began advancing towards him. Jimin too, stared right at you unwaveringly, like he could see no one but you at the moment.  

His hair was gelled back and brush to the side, letting the sunlight highlight his ethereal features. When you reached the end of the carpet, Jimin’s father took a hold of your hand and handed it to Jimin. As soon as Jimin’s fingers touched your palm, a spark of fire traveled underneath your skin and your arm broke out in goosebumps. He led you up the three-step stairs, into the altar where the priest stood in front of you both.  

“You look gorgeous.” He whispers with a cheeky smile

You break out into a shy smile, some of the rashness in your nerves leaving you.

His eyes never leave yours as the priest starts speaking and you could feel your own eyes well up as you hear the quiet sobs of Jimin’s mother.

After the small sermon, it was time for that big question.

“Do you Park Jimin, take ___ to be your lawfully wedded wife? To cherish her in sickness and in health? And never leave her lonely?”

For a moment you thought you saw a pause in Jimin’s smile. That there was a sudden weakness flashing across his orbs. But it was over, very, very quickly.

“I do.” He states proudly, causing all the unease in your lungs to vanish.

As the priest repeats the question to you, you take a deep breath, ready to state your obvious answer.

Suddenly though, you catch the eyes you’ve been avoiding the whole time.

Your mother. Sitting in the front row.

Without a smile.

“Don’t do this to yourself.”

“Mom, please…I’m getting married in a few hours. Why is this the only thing you have to say to me?”

The older lady inhales, her nostrils flaring in exhaustion. “I’m saying this for your own good.”

“No! You’re saying this for your own sick pleasure!”

“How could you think that way about your own mother?”

“…because let’s face it mom…you’ve never cared about me…”

She went silent after that. 10 minutes of arguing and this was what made her silent.

“Alright.” She spit, bitterly. “But when he ends up leaving you, don’t come crying to me.”

…

“I never have.”

“Madam?”

You jump from your daydream.

“Pauillac?”

A well dressed, older waiter stands in front of your table. He held out a bottle of expensive looking wine.

“Oh, thank you.” You say, holding out your glass.

Fast forward to seven years, you set up a reservation at the most popular 5-star restaurant in your city. It’s something you’ve done every year for four years, a month ahead because of the place’s demand and limited seating options. Even though your nerves were eating at you, you kept yourself alive. Today is the day you’ll see Jimin again. He’ll be back home again.  

Your body was yearning for his touch again, you felt yourself getting hot and cold at times for no reason. But it was alright, you were happy.  

You’ve gotten your hair, makeup and nails done at a salon today, wanting to look beautiful for your husband. It was red in color and light weight, to not seem overbearing, and you wish Jimin would like it on you. Imagining him complimenting you had you unintentionally beaming. Anything and everything he’d say tonight was bound to have you convulsing inward, you were just so excited to see him again.  

Having arrived 15 minutes early, you mess with the napkins and cutlery, making sure everything was straight and preppy. Your nerves were on high making you fidget and glance at the door every few seconds. Jimin’s promise rang inside your head as assurance. There was a letter clutched in your hand. Since there were so many – way too many things you wanted to tell him, you decided to write a letter instead.

He’ll be here. I know him.

Time went by a bit too slowly, so you took some sips of your wine. What should you say first to him. Oh, you should thank him for keeping his promise. That would make him happy. Then you should apologize for that night, negotiate carefully to not scare him away. You’d tell him of the progress you made, about how you were learning to stand on your own two feet so you wouldn’t bother him again.

Whatever you did, you could not afford to make him feel upset again.

As you continued to carefully plan out your time with Jimin, a voice resounded in your head.

“You spent your life trying to become someone they’d love, that you forgot about who you are.”

…

You were doing it again. Of course, you didn’t want to apologize to him…but you were more concerned with what pleased him. Sighing, you took another sip of your wine.

Where was he? You were beginning to get angsty. Tapping your foot against the floor, you signaled the waiter for more wine. 20 minutes had passed. 30. 40. Soon you were bombarded with voices echoing your head.

Lin. Irene. Yoongi. Mina. Your mother.

Everything they said over the past month haunting your insides until you shook. Stop it, you wanted to yell. All you wanted was to be in your husband’s arms. You aren’t stupid for yearning for love. Jimin promised.

1 hour.

You had begun to stare at the people around you, dressed so lavishly. They all look so content. How lucky they were. There was a senior couple a couple of tables away from you, the lady feeding something sweet to her husband. It made you smile, and your heart hurt even more. Jimin, please come soon.

2 hours.

Where was he? People were starting to notice you could tell, their shaped became nothing but eyes that beheld you with animosity. Eyes poking you in places that left you sore. You wanted to jump into a cold river. Wash away the restrictive feeling around your throat. No, you aren’t stupid for trusting Jimin again.

With a deep breath, you press his number, holding it to your ear with pursed lips. He doesn’t pick up. But you dial it again. What if something happened to him, you worry. There was a similar feeling inside of you. The one you felt when you visited this office that night. Your heart and mind pleaded with him.

Please, Jimin.

“…Hello?” A groggy voice answers

You smile – you actually fucking smile for the tiniest millisecond. Before realizing that wasn’t his voice. No, that high-pitched feminine voice wasn’t his. Your whole face falls.

“Ms. ___?”

Tina.

“H-hello, Ms-” You overhear some shuffling before you hear him.

“Kitten, who is i-”

No longer concerned, you hang up. You were so stupid.

Your face twitches, mind still frozen before the tears fall like rain. It was raining outside too.  

In seconds, your makeup’s all ruined, and the collar of your dress is strangling you. With so many people in the vicinity, you try to stop your tears but it’s no use – you can feel a few stares burning a hole through your head. You don’t even care to acknowledge the waiter who cheerily walks up to you pushing a cart.

“Ma’am here’s your oh-”  

He stops dead in his tracks in front of you, who’s silently heaving into the air. He’s at loss of what to do as he gapes at your wrecked state, in his sweaty palms he weakly holds the handle of the cart. On that cart laid a large 2 layer lavishly decorated vanilla-swirl cake. Jimin’s favorite. With two words written at the top in pink strawberry icing.

‘Happy Anniversary’

You had no clue where you were headed.  

The hush of the car pushed you forward. Your grip on the handle was deathly, frigid arms barely holding it eerily still and not crashing into one of the pawn shops on the right out of pure fury.

After the tears came the rage. You were so, so angry. And you didn’t give one single fuck.

Fucking Jimin, perfect, lovable, charming Jimin. Fuck him.

How dare he?

How fucking dare he not show up? How fucking dare he embarrass you like that? He lied to you yet again. And you, like the pathetic woman you are, fell for it again. It was like a drug, the wrath and despair within your system. Traveling across every nerve and every stream. Feeling like tiny needles prickling you all at once. You were so fucking angry.

It kept replaying in your mind. Tina’s groggy voice, her confusion…her pity. You couldn’t control anything, not your breathing nor your anger. All you wanted to do was forget about it all. Before you did something you really regret. So, you sped to the only place that made you forget once before.

You push the breaks to a halt, your body lurching forward at the sudden stop. Turning, you look out the car window, breathing fire through your nose. The loud beating of the music silently shakes the whole road. Bright red neon lights flare into your vicinity, reflecting even the puddles of the long dead rain.

Cypher Road.

With a humorless smirk, you open the car door, stomping your way out of the vehicle. Wasting no time, you sprint into the entrance with a slight stumble in your step and are immediately greeted by dancing bodies. It wasn’t any different than that other day – if anything, busier. The noise was so loud you could stop yourself from thinking for once. You brush past the lively bodies without a care, yet there is a small warmth with each touch of flesh that has you inhaling repeatedly.

Trance.

There is a joy of being here. You hadn’t wiped the scars of mascara off your face, your hair was a mess from you pulling on it. And your dress felt even lighter than before as you stepped onto the dance floor. The atmosphere was blinding, and you had come here to be filled with its addictive ignorance. How sweet it is to not taste the bitter reality.  

It was slow at first. You weren’t in rhythm with anyone, but then again when had you ever been. Spanning your arms out, you brought them above your head as you twirled once, twice – a few times. Every second you unraveled yourself, closing your eyes as your heels glided along the dance floor and you shook and turned. Swung and twist.

You wanted to lose all your energy here. Everything had to melt away.

With every move you made, your mind became light headed, stars amongst your seams exploded and the fast pace of the universe seem to lull. So, softly, you fluttered your lids open.

The first thing you saw were the bright neon green lasers, traveling across the dance floor from the ceiling. Then you notice how the whole floor had slowed, the laughing, the screaming, the motioned limbs. Everyone around you had begun moving along your timeline, your pace – the slow dance with life for the very first time. Somehow the music had lost all it’s upbeat fervor and your ears echoed a blue ambiance in its place. You felt drunk even though you took mere ounces of liquor.

Numb, you were more numb thank drunk. Your movements were sluggish and your mind in a deep haze. This is what it feels like to be high on grief. While your eyes were roaming the dance floor, they landed on someone. There was a girl, around 10 feet away from you, who caught your attention, you’re not sure why. Nothing seemed unordinary about her – not her short dress, nor her pretty face. The club was full of that. She dances as lethargic as the figures around her. What you kept staring at was the necklace she wore, the pure silver being the only color you could see on her as the darkness of the club muted all other colors.

But the second a citrus scent fills the air around you, she is long forgotten. You turn back in front of you to see him.

He, who stood a good 5 feet ahead, taller than Jimin. He, who wore an expensive suit with a colorful scarf tied around his long neck. Dusky hair and sharp eyes, a slight tan and fixed stare. It was in that moment time come to a complete halt. Just you and him, even breathing and secret heartbeats. His face tilted to the side, a smirk present on his inviting lips. You blinked leisurely.

“Nice to see you again, baby.” He said in his deep, sexy voice

You recognized his voice.  

Who could forget it?

The stall door slammed open as your body was pushed inside. For the first few seconds your breath was knocked out of you, just to fit into his mouth once again.

“Mmm-ah-”

His mouth was hot, heavy and wet. The middle of your spine shivered, sending a cursing sensation all throughout your body as you held onto his arms. The warmth of his shoulders kept you giddy, your face tilting to allow his tongue in further. His grip on your hips was tight, his fingers dangerously lurking your ass. You blushed as you felt your chest pressed up against.

He bit your lip and you gasped, your fingers treading into his hair as you tilted your head back. His lips kiss down your jaw, onto your neck as you moan loudly. The air was immense, the four walls of the stall closing in on you and you didn’t care one bit. You wanted to be swallowed. After nipping the soft skin of your neck, he looks up, into your eyes.  

As you stare into the endless abyss by your own glossy orbs, you could swear there was no one more beautiful.

He smirks yet again, making you clench. His thigh parts your legs as his warm hand travels along your hip line before he grabs your dress. Pulling up the light fabric, you feel his hot fingers on your bare skin. You try to hold back your voice but fail miserably as you whimper, holding onto to him tightly. Softly, his hand caresses your thigh, tender and slow. You close your eyes, your brows knitting in what you think was frustration and you hear him chuckle.

God, that voice of his.

The air is knocked out of you as his fingers land on that sweet, sweet spot. Your eyes opening to find his intense stare.

“You’re so wet, fuck.” He huffs, fondling you over your panties

Unable to properly respond, you blush. Biting your lower lip before you begin to rub yourself on him. You’ve never done that before. Taken control of the situation that is.

“Shit.” He mutters, staring you down as you shamelessly stroke yourself against him. Your freedom didn’t last long as he snakes an arm around your back, your chest crashing into his and his long digits slam into your core.  

“Ah!” You grab onto his arms as he scissors your insides.

“Fuck, baby,” He grunts, his low voice making you tremble, “You haven’t been fucked properly for a long time now, have you?”

His dirty words cause you to clench, curses once again slipping out of his mouth, “I’m gonna change that tonight – shit. I’ll fuck you so good, fill your nice and pretty cunt with my cum.”

You couldn’t say anything, lips trembling and back arching as his elongated fingers fucked into you, reaching such a depth that had you weak in the knees. Thankfully his hold was tight.  

“You want that baby? You want to be stuffed with my dick? I bet I’d slip in so – fuck – so easily, I bet I’d cum right away, what do you think baby?”

“Nn- oh, yes-” It slipped out, as his pace became faster, harder and you wanted to thank whoever created him for his blessed fingers. They were much longer than Jimin.

…

Jimin?

…Jimin.

In an instant your eyes shot open, “N-no!”

The guy made out a ‘huh?’ Before you pushed him away with all your strength. His back collided with the right stall wall, as you used the left one to stand up properly.

You suddenly become all too aware of the ring encasing your finger on your trembling hands. The warm atmosphere now defeated by a scorching heat. Your eyes became cloudy as images of your husband flashed through your mind. The man you swore your soul to, the man who you came home to, his smile, his love. What the hell were you doing? You were married! Married! How could you-

“H-hey? Are you alright? Was it something I said?”

The man reaches out for you, causing you to jump.  

“No!” You shout again, your loud voice echoing the stalls. His eyes fill with worry and the guilt threatens to spill out your throat. Did he know you were married? How would he feel about that? What were you doing? WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!  

You were wheezing without any cause. The air in your lungs felt painful, throat sore and breaths ugly. Panic…you were having a panic attack. The walls were closing in and the light of the restroom gave you a pounding headache.

“I-I’m sorr-” You manage to choke out before running out of the stall, not even daring to look back.

You ran and ran and ran. Pushing away from the heavy bodies littering your way. Sobs of pain left you, but no one even cared to look. This wasn’t what you wanted from tonight – you wanted to forget Jimin, not become him. Yet you can never forget how you reacted to that stranger, how sensitive your body was to someone who wasn’t your husband. Tremendous shame and guilt travel up your neck like parasites. Your eyesight had become blurry, all the overwhelming lights meshed together, and you couldn’t even see anymore. All that was guiding you was the reminder to get out of this loud place.

And it was then that you bumped into someone.

“___? Hey, are you alright? ___?”

A frantic voice, and grip on your arms pulls you back to reality. For a moment you just heave as he shakes you softly, grip firm and protective. Slowly, your eyes begin to clear and breathing slows. There you see Yoongi and you, standing near the entrance hall of Cypher Road.

“Y-Yoon…gi?” You mutter, out of air

“Fuck, ___, what happened to you?” Yoongi shouts, his eyes widened in concern  

“You lied to me Yoongi…” You mutter

“…What?”

“You lied to me!” You cry, pulling him off of you, “You t-told me…” Your voice breaks, tears filling your eyes, “You said he did nothing but fool around with his friends…YOU LIED!!!”

The anger in your voice has him putting up his hands in concern. “W-what do you mean-”

“In there!” You scream, pointing at the dance floor, “In your precious club – is a girl with a necklace!”

“A…necklace?” Yoongi squints in confusion, his head turning back and forth between you and the dance floor.

“A fucking necklace!” You roar as he winces, “A necklace…similar to the one Jimin wore some time ago…”

“___, there are plenty of ways she could’ve gotten that necklace, maybe she-“

“No!” You interrupt him, shaking your head vigorously, “That’s what I say! Those are the excuses I make! ...But not this time. Not when I recognize that special custom-made J pendant on her neck…”

You began to cry, hot fat tears rolling down your cheeks as your throat starts to close in.

“I-I could…couldn’t even see her face…I don’t even know what s-she looks like…” Taking a deep breath, you bring your hand to your mouth in embarrassment, “Yet I know her…because she wore my husband’s necklace so proudly. Like she owned it…owned him.”

Yoongi stares at you, at loss at what to say. The people around you gave glances and strange looks time to time. But still…no one cares long enough to stay.

“___...just calm d-”

“NO!” You scream again, cringing at the strain in your voice. “I won’t! I won’t calm down! I have every right to be angry!”

“I know that!” Yoongi yells cautiously, “I understand that-”

“No you don’t– No one does! No one knows how it feels to be in my position, no one- Or else you wouldn’t have lied to me!”

“You think I had a choice? You think I wanted to purposely lie to the woman who was staring at the ground a thousand feet below her like her only way out?”

“Just-” You bring your hands up, a sudden wave of exhaustion pouring over you, “I’m so, so tired…I’m so tired of being lied to, Yoongi. Please…please leave me alone.”

“__-” Before he could say another word you were rushing down the hall, out of the building. He stared at the exit you left from a bit too long, the bright neon of the sign hurting his eyes. Everyone else danced on, carefree, around him. His husband always told him this job would be his wolfsbane.

And he was right as usual.

As he’s debating whether to chase after you, a call of his name interrupts his concentration.  

“Hy- fuck, Yoongi hyung!” The pale faced man turns around to see the youngest of his pack shoving through multiple bodies in disdain. The taller man rushes up to him, breathing heavily, with a worried gaze.

“Taehyung?” The older asks with concern laced in his tone. What the fuck was happening? “What’s the matter?”

“S-she was…do you know where the girl who was just with you went? She was right here! The one with the red dress…soft demeanor…?”

Yoongi straightened up as Taehyung described you,  

“How do you know ___?”  

You sat at the edge of your world in silence. The winds of tomorrow’s past blew past you, your hair in rhythm with the fast-paced clouds above. For the moment, you would have preferred silence, but that was not a sentiment the city shared with you. Cars, honking, muttered chatter, you could hear it all. Passing through your ears like an afterthought. Your feet dangled as you held your heels in your hand. What were you thinking of showing up to that anniversary dinner?

What ever made you think Jimin would stop disappointing you?

As you stared at the glass structures you sighed, you always ended up back at the same place. The same kind of city, the same rain, the same broken heart. Perhaps the universe really was trying to tell you something.

A quiet hum stained your body, Keeping you sane from your sadness. It was crazy really, how many questioned can be answered in a day. With a deep breath, you reach out to into the night, stretching your arm. Hand laid flat against the air for a few seconds before you clasped it shut – as if grabbing something. What were you desperately searching for in the night?  

Your husband? Your life? Your childhood?  

Your happiness.

“Thought I might find you here…”  

It was routine then, the sudden loud beating of your heart. Your widened eyes, your frozen physique. The shaky exhale.

…

“I…tried to find you downstairs…in the apartment…but you weren’t there…”

Jimin.

You can hear him walk towards you. And you could imagine it, hands in pocket, the wind blowing through his hair, his relaxed stance and clear eyes. It had been too long…so long, just a couple days felt like years. It felt like something grabbed onto your heart, so tight you couldn’t breathe. You were too scared to turn. To look him in the eye.  

But you did anyway.  

And you just knew the universe hated you. It was him. It was him. It was him. His ethereal face filled with a halo no one could replicate. He was God’s most beautiful creature. How spiteful your creator must have been.

It was him. You wanted to reach out to him.

He stared at you, reading your eyes as you read his. But you both had stopped understanding each other’s language a long time ago.  

You both waited for the other to speak. Yet for some reason, you wanted this silence to last forever.

“…How have yo-”

“Did you fuck her?” You ask, your voice immediately breaking. His face turned pale. “When I trusted you…and waited for you…”

He looked away, mouth shutting and eyes squinting.

You had dreamt of this scenario a thousand times, and in each one you never came off this strongly. So, what were you doing right now? Why did you feel so guilty?

“You fucked her…did it feel good? Are you happy now that you’ve emptied your dick?” There was so much fury in each of your words, but you enjoyed watching him squirm. You didn’t even know half these words were in your vocabulary. “How has she been for the past week? Why did you even come, JIMIN? I waited, and waited, and waited in the pain of the unknown. All while you got your dick wet…And I always do that Jimin…I’m so stupid, aren’t I?

He says nothing.

“Tell me I’m stupid!” You slam a palm on the ledge, “Because you really make me feel that way! And for what?”

The tears you hold back wrapped themselves around your neck, making you struggle to get your words out. You wanted him to feel as hurt as you did.

“What have I done Jimin? What did…I do to you?” Breathing was becoming hard, your lips quivering as you stared at the beautiful somber devil. “All I did was love you, so why? Why do you t-treat me like this?”

It must have been an illusion of either your river-filled eyes or the bleak night because for a second you thought you saw despair and guilt inside him.

“I broke myself apart to try and fit into your world. Became happy for you, always did what you wanted, never questioned you-fuck I would’ve even had children if it meant you would stay with me…”

“God, I’m so stupid!” You roar, grasping fistfuls of your hair and pulling at it, “Here I was trying to be better, here I was thinking that those three girls had something I didn’t but that wasn’t it at all! M-Mina didn’t have lipstick on that night. She couldn’t have marked your shirt…but someone else did! Isn’t that right Jimin?”

You turn back to him, eyes wide and head pounding. “I thought there were only three girls…but there are many, many more aren’t there? I thought Jessica was the first time, but it wasn’t was it?”

Jimin finally looks up at you, and you realize you never said anything about Jessica. He didn’t know you knew.

“You’d been cheating on me…since the beginning…haven’t you? Here I thought I must have done something wrong after marriage…but I’ve been your plaything throughout this whole affair, haven’t I?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You slowly lower your arms, face and body still in shock.

“I’m so stupid Jimin…I felt special for a while…I’m so stupid…aren’t I?”

His face twitches, but his thoughts remain a mystery. You watch quietly as he closes his eyes, a soft exhale leaving his lips. It was too painful to keep staring at him, at the man you once loved more than anything. So you looked back at the sky, pleading for a chance to redo every single event since before you met.

“Jimin…” You whisper, voice pleading. Your sanity was on the brink and you wanted to be pulled in before you fell over. “Tell me I’m not stupid.”  

“I’m letting you go, ___.”

You really hated yourself in that moment. Your name coming out of his mouth felt so good, you almost didn’t hear the first part.

Almost.

“I have to let you go.”

And the first tear falls. Sliding down your cheek easily before the next one leaks. You close your eyes, letting the pain wash away at you for the first time in a while. The fall was long, you could feel the emptiness surround you. For a second it felt like flying, unobstructed and liberated.

“…”

“This has gone…beyond my control…___. I didn’t know what I was thinking, I just...” He looks at you, but you kept yourself inside your head. Arms numb and brain empty. “…I acted on impulse…I thought I knew what I wanted…I thought it was…”

You

“You are right…I have been cheating on you for a long time now…I never loved you…I just kept this charade on for as long as I could. And I don’t know why because I don’t love you…I d..d-don’t.”

That’s what you needed to hear, right? Just like that? Everyone’s been telling you this is better for you, haven’t they? So why are all your words stuck in your throat.

“I’ll go back to T…my friend for now…I’ll be back to pack up my stuff in the next few weeks.”

And with that he gives you one last glance before he turns. That was it, that was his whole explanation. What exactly had you expected? Why the FUCK did you keep expecting? You wanted to call out to him, your heart jumping out of your chest and latching onto his turned back. But instead of uttering a single peep, you listen to his footsteps all the way back to the door.

You listen as he touches the door knob. You listen as he twists it and pulls the door open slightly. All you do is listen when you can feel him hesitate, turning around to look at you.

For the strangest reason you remember the day you met him. That bright day, the soft wind and cherry blossoms. His bright smile and angel eyes, your innocent mind and open heart. It replays in your memory like your life flashing before your eyes. The wind picks at your toes and your body itches, yearning for something you couldn’t comprehend.

So much has changed since. This isn’t the same day, the same wind. There are no cherry blossoms, or smiles or innocence. You both are different now.

This was your chance to call out to him. To jump off this ledge and into his arms. But you just sat there. Listened as he turned back and left. And it was just you and the wind once more. The door closing felt like the cover of a book closing, that this was the end.

And against the fast-paced wind that night, you accepted your defeated.

There were no books out today…

That much you could tell as you stared at the small desk between the couches, dozing off as the sunlight from the large window behind hit your face.

Much like you, she also stared. At the distance in your eyes, the iris dim and face unreadable. There were many things she wanted to ask, many holes she wanted to poke. But she remained as restrained as her profession taught. For she knew the signs of unapproachable person at first glance, having read them countless of times over.  

Yet she couldn’t have you stay quiet the whole time.

“Is everything alright?” Lin spoke meticulously  

You didn’t answer.

She sighed, studying you as she shifted. What could she do right now to make you talk? You’ve been so quiet these past 3 weeks, almost like you didn’t exist. Last week you never showed up, Lin couldn’t help overthinking and dial your emergency contact – Irene, who dragged you over here in frustration.  

You had told her about Jimin, lifelessly stating everything that happened as if facts about your life that hold no meaning to you. She knew how much pain you were in, but your reaction to despair was abnormal since crying was the body’s healing method. It’s a healthy way to process emotion. Then the next week you became silent, were a no-show last week and didn’t speak a word today either. Lin had consulted Irene, who said Jimin had been coming over, taking more and more of his stuff which helped the therapist understand a bit more.

You were mirroring your safe space, becoming as hollow as your apartment was.

“___, please you have to talk to me. Just for a bit, alright? I can help you.”

“Do you ever…” Her thoughts were interjected as you spoke up quietly. She was instantly all ears. “Do you ever…want to redo life? If you could start all over again, without any of your mistakes…would you?”

Lin stared at you for a while. Your expression did not change, you continued to glare a hole through her desk.

“Well…that’s a difficult question ___. Even though a part of me wants to erase the mistakes I might have made… I think it’s important to have the knowledge of those mistakes…why I made them…what I can learn from them…etcetera…”

“Well what mistakes did I make?” You say softly, looking at Lin in her pretty brown eyes. “What kind of mistakes have I made…that I still – to this day – have learned nothing from?”

You were trying to hide it, but she could see it as clear as day. The barrage of emotions you tried to conceal in your pupils. “Why am I getting constantly punished and learning nothing?”

“Why?” You plead, throwing a palm over your head and slouching down in your hair, “Why should I always be the person in pain? I’m so, so, so sad and I can’t change that even though I want to!”

“Trust me L-Lin, I want to change so desperately, I want to! I want to crawl out of my skin and find a new body because everything hurts but I can’t leave me…I can’t leave me, I c-can’t leave even though he can…I can’t leave even though she can… but I can’t, I CAN’T!

“..and you know what hurts the most?” You ask her, to which she does not respond. “What hurts is that he left me…like I was the one who did something wrong.”

“…He left me.”

It falls dead silent after your outburst. The only sound echoing the room was of your steady breathing.

“W…why do they get to walk away whenever they want after everything they’ve done?”

Lin breathes out tenderly, her eyes on the glass table and the reflection of the sun behind. In moments like this, she wishes she really had all the answers for her patients. She really does.

“By she…do you possibly mean-”

“My mother.” You mumble. “The one person in the world that was supposed to love me unconditionally…the one who threw me away like a discarded doll…”

Lin blinks slowly. “It can be very difficult to deal with the trauma and pain from a parent who abandons you…” After deliberating for a bit, she speaks up, “Tell me ___, why do you think you’ve given your all to every authority figure in your life?

You sit back up after a shaky exhale. Nothing comes to mind, except Jimin’s smile. Life was exhausting.

“Be…because…”

Lin nods, encouraging you to go on.

“I wanted them to love me.”

“And why did you think being perfect at everything, work, household chores, unconditional love, would get you their love.”

“B…because…I don’t know…”

“Hmm, can you tell me the first time you noticed someone’s reaction to you being ‘perfect.’ A child hood memory perhaps?”

After thinking about it for a while, you nod.

“...When I was…in the first grade…I got an A on my math exam. I was the only kid and…and the teacher called my mom to tell her I got an A. I didn’t want to bother her so I didn’t do it. And…my mother…she smiled at me for the first time that day.”

You could sense Lin’s soft smile.

“So I tried to get more As but I guess she got used to it. When Jimin…when I would blush or be openly smitten with him…there was a twinkle in his eye. One I could never get out of my head. And I tried…so hard.” You close your eyes, “So hard to keep that twinkle alive even when I was dying inside…but I guess…even he got used to it.”

Opening your eyes, you look at your therapist. “That’s why I did it. So they could love me.”

You become quiet, playing with your fingers as Lin stare at you. Her mind was in deep thought.  

“___,” Lin sighs after a while, “You know that I can’t tell you to not be upset… you have every right to feel whatever you feel because what they did to you caused you great pain…but I think it’s time you learned how to love yourself. And for that we need to address the root cause of your issues.”

“My mother?”

“Your mother.”

You nod, contemplating what she said. Learning to love yourself? That was a concept so foreign to you. Could it really help you understand yourself? What could you possibly gain from it, what was there to love about you? Right now, you just wanted to sleep forever. Forget you exist at all.

Existence is a pain itself.

Maybe you should confront the cause of your existence then.

“Trust me ___.” Lin speaks, catching your gaze, “You deserve better. You deserve to love yourself.”

Oh, you just cracked the puzzle.

She had aged.

Your mom, who was always so tall. To you, she stood over all the towering counters and tables and light switches. Compared to her, you were tiny. Someone who always had to look up at her, stretching your neck and straining your eyes. At her, who easily touched things you could only wish to reach.  

She looks so small now. Wrinkles skin deep, frown lines too permanent. She, who was once the tallest person in your naïve, 5-year-old eyes. Someone you thought would always look as young, as beautiful.  

As cold.

You watch her, face trained to be still. Her posture was demure, lips sat motionless and eyes downcast. She wore a light earthy dress, full sleeves and prim collar…which was so very her. It was strange to you, how at one moment you wanted her to look at you more than anything. To acknowledge you.

But today you were content in studying her with a passive gaze.

“How have you been?” She begins quietly. You stare at her, then glance at her fidgeting hands in her lap.

The atmosphere was dim, a bit too lull for a restaurant during lunch time. Maybe you were suppressing the chatter and clatter, to focus on her. Again, how fitting.

“…I’ve been well.” I have not. “How about you?”

“Good.” She replies softly, staring at her steaming tea in interest.

You sigh, your shoulders moving up and down along with your breath. What were you expecting? This is a person you hadn’t seen in 3 years. Why would she suddenly be interested in you? Why should you be in her?

At that moment, you hear small laughter reach your ear. You turn toward the appealing sound, not sure why you wanted to find its source. Yet once you took it in, you understood. It was a child. A mother, and her small child. The lady was not much older than you, wearing a blue-green dress as she fed her daughter dress in pink a small piece of the steak she ordered. They seemed happy, content in the small moment they shared, and you couldn’t help but smile at them.

What a fantasy they were living, you hope they knew how lucky they were. Everyone seems to be luckier than you. For a while you felt like a kid staring through the window of a candy shop. Tsk, how ridiculous.

“I…I’m glad you are well…”

You turn back to the fragile sound of that voice. “It…I was happy to get your call…and you suddenly asking to meet me. I felt nervous…I don’t know why.”

Surprise was well written on your face at her words. This was not what you were expecting.

“And I…” She coughs as if her voice was raspy. “How have you been? H-how’s Jimin? I hope he’s taking care of you.”

She smiles then. A slight, delicate smile as she looks you in the eyes. This is not what you were expecting. Not from the woman who’s only given you cold shoulders when you’ve asked for warm arms.  

All you could think about was how she was never home for your birthday and the one time she was, you overheard her call it just another rest day on the phone with her coworker. All you could remember was asking her if she would come to your recital and she never showed, so you just sat there after the choir concert watching all the other kid take pictures and receive flowers from their family. All you could call upon was the time she forgot to feed you for almost a week, which was what made you begin cooking.

And for some reason, unbeknownst to you, you utter the thorn pressing against your brain.

“Jimin left.”

Her smile takes a second to drop. The color of her face wearing off as her eyes widen. Jaw parting as she looks at you, like a worried, petrified mother. It almost made you laugh.

“W…What?”

Concern laced her tongue and you felt anger as a natural reaction. This wasn’t it – it wasn’t how you were expecting this to go. The person you remember, the person instilled into your core would have sighed in disappointment. Gave you a cold look and a wintery frown. Told you she warned you. Why was she suddenly acting this way?

“_-”

“H-he left mom.” You say, your voice choking up, “You were right, once again. He left me, just like you said. Aren’t you happy?”

You spit the question with venom, your eyes welling up.

“___.” She repeats in that same pitiful tone. It sparked more fury inside of you.

“Aren’t you happy?!” You ask a little louder, the neighboring tables giving you a glance. “I’ll be signing divorce papers soon. You were right all along!”

“N-no, no.” She shakes her head, seeming as distraught as you. Who was this person in your mother body? Wearing your mother’s face.

“What, why?” You sneer, “Have I done something to upset you again, like I don’t know ask for some fucking food?”

“___, no. Oh my God, no.” She was crying.  

It was getting hard to see as you shook in your seat. The weight of the world felt like it was on your shoulder. And as you stared at the weeping lady in front of you, you felt like a child again. A child who hid under the bed, crying because of the thunder. Desperately wanting her mother to come home. But she never came.

“I hate you.” Your tough voice broke, “I hated you so much…I never knew how much I hated you until I found Jimin…even if his love was fake at least he acted like he cared. Why couldn’t you just fucking act?”

She begins to tremble. Fuck.

“I know…how much dad hurt you, but why did you have to hurt me? I needed you. I needed you, mom. I spent every single day trying to live up to what I thought were your expectations, I thought I had to earn your love. I thought-” You take a moment, shutting your eyes and feeling the aching beat of your heart. “I thought if I was the perfect child- if I didn’t cause you trouble, if I was quiet and stayed out of trouble y-you would at least smile my way. And still you didn’t…all of my accomplishments, all of the things I so hard worked for vanished just like that…”

“Tell me…why did you…abandon me?” You look at her and for the first time something feels different, although your heart continues to constrict. She looks so small in her light earthy dress, straining her shoulders and shaking her head.

“I am so sorry ___. I am so, so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you like that, ___. I am so sorry.”

“But more than you I hate myself.” You continue, ignoring the sear of pain on her face with every word. “I hate that I can never be perfect for anyone, I hate that I can’t have a normal conversation without second guessing everything. I can’t even ask someone for help without having a mild panic attack! Did you know that? I hate how I am so sad and weak all the fucking time. I hate me, I hate me.”

“___, please, please don’t say that. Please.”

“Why, huh? So you can pretend to have a normal daughter, if you want to pretend I even exist today-”

“NO!” She screams making you silent. You could hear the whispering of the tables around you, but you pay it no mind. They were the lucky ones, they wouldn’t understand. “So you don’t turn out like me.”

“…What?”

She exhales deeply, her face morphed into anguish, “I never wanted you to be like me, ___. Never. Y-your father made so many promises to me, told me he loved me so much. I was a shy, quiet conservative woman who fell into his trap. Then one day he just got up and left. A-and I was so stuck I didn’t know what to do! No one taught me how to raise a child, I had no guidance, no family and barely any money.”

You listen to her silently. The air was thick and her breathing rapid. For some reason you really wanted to dry her tears.

“A-And then you w-were born. B-but every time I looked at you…I remembered what your father did. I remembered that I never wanted a child. I remembered that because of you…I couldn’t go anywhere and do anything, and I was trapped in the same damned town for the rest of my miserable days. I was so lonely and ashamed…I couldn’t hate you though…I tried but you were so small and fragile I just couldn’t. Yet it was easy to pretend you didn’t exist. So, I did just that…to help me cope, I pretended you weren’t there. That I never met a man like your father and he never betrayed me…”

She looks at her hands, “But I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have have…but I realized it too late…when you already met Jimin…”  

You tense.

“Since the start…he reminded me of your father, and it terrified me. I was so scared for you, and I tried to get you not to marry him. But you hated me, and it was all my fault. You sought for the love I couldn’t give you so desperately, that it was easy for you to fall victim to someone who wanted to take advantage of you. I prayed for you…for your relationship every day, I wanted to be wrong so bad…I did ___.” She looks up at you with a frantic gaze. “I never wanted you to be like me, never ever. I did so many horrible things to you. I’m so sorry ___. I’m so sorry. I know you can never forgive me, and that will live with me for the rest of my days.”

Your mom looks back down. Her expression empty and tears still. It seems like she let out all she wanted to say and now she was a ghost. There was nothing in her…nothing. She reminded you of herself, which is why you said the next words.

“I can’t forgive you…” You speak softly and she winces. “The young me…can’t forgive you. The one who was subjected to your neglect. The innocent child striving for a mere ounce of love and affection. The part of me that you disregarded every day until even I questioned if I existed. I can’t.”

She physically deflated, as if agreeing with your sentiments.

“But-” You interrupt her acceptance, “The me now…the me growing and changing and evolving every single day. The me who’s learned to be happier…who’s learning how to find herself and converse with others…the me who has learned to heal…that me. I…can forgive you.”

And you watch her as she takes a moment. Looking up at you like a star just exploded.  

“I can forgive you, mom.”

The next moments were a blur. She seemed extremely please, beyond ecstatic and you felt for her. Especially when she cried like a baby, and you think she was the child now. You mother was the small one now, the one who needed your love. And you weren’t going to be someone who repeats her mistakes. Everything you said to her was true. You could forgive her now. It would take some time, but strangely you understood her.

If Jimin left you with a child, you would have the hardest time acknowledging it. All the pain you would feel could be unintentionally directed at it. You were so glad you weren’t in her shoes. They were bigger than you could imagine. As you breathe out, you feel it all leave you. The resentment you’ve held onto for years. The resentment that grew too heavy for you to carry.

It was lifted off your back and you could breathe again. There were traces of bitterness left, staining the deepest corners, but you will work on washing them out.

“I…know it’s too late…but I will try to be better ___.” She looks at you with her swollen eyes. It was as of you were staring at your reflection.  

“I think you already are.” You say with a smile, directed more to yourself.

You really were your mother’s daughter.

_

It was silence once again.

A screaming silence, that woke your inner most core as you step into the vacant apartment. You were so tired. The meeting with your mom ran longer than you thought and now you just wanted to drown into your bed. Taking off your coat, you hang it by the rack before changing into your slippers. Without a second thought, you bee line for your bed room ready to sleep today off.  

But you halt in your tracks as you notice something on the dining table a few feet from you. A stack of white papers. You look around you, as if searching for someone before you look back at the table once again. It had been a few weeks since that night. Jimin would come by when you weren’t around, take more of his stuff and leave. Half of you was wondering why he was taking his sweet time and torturing you…the other half was yearning for as much time with him as possible.

With a defeated sigh, you slowly make your way to the dining table. Every single inch of this space had so many memories attached to it. Each step felt like reliving it all again. Once you bump into a dining chair, you can read the letters as bold as day.  

Divorce papers.

Oh.

Jimin was working quicker than you thought. You expected his, but not this soon. It hit you then. That you didn’t realize how real of this was until this very moment, as you reread those big black letters in the stiffest font. This was real, it was happening.

Jimin was finally going to leave you.

That’s right, he gets to leave. While you were stuck washing out the resentment.

So, you let out a breathless laugh. One after the other until you were full on laughing at the situation. Oh my God, you tried so hard and for what? You tore yourself up and for who? There was nothing left of you, you gave it all away and what did that get you in return.

You were so crazy stupid, it was insane. You actually apologized when Jimin cheated on you. You forgave him multiple times. You starved yourself, you loathed yourself, you killed the young girl just wanting honest love and respect inside of you. And you cried until your eyes broke and you’re crying now.

You’re crying for the girl who once stood in that mirror, pinching every ounce of her skin till it bruised. Scourging herself for never being good enough. You’re crying for your lost dignity, handing it to someone with clumsy hands you thought were loyal. You’re crying at how you lost who you were, not only in the longest seven years of your life, but ever since you were born. You’re crying because that’s all you ever did for you.

How different life would have been if your mother had taught you how to love yourself? If her mother had taught her how to love herself? If the men in your lives didn’t continue to ravage you of all you could offer. It felt like some sort of curse.

Which is why you fell to the floor to let it all out. The tremendous pain and grief that built over the years, the horrible conditions of your body and mind. Every single pore had to leak, only then you would truly be free.

You’re crying because you wasted your life away. You’re crying because you treated yourself this way, when you didn’t deserve anything but love, trust, and honesty.

You’re crying because you learned too late of what – who you should have loved.

You were crying because your book wasn't written by you, but by somehow who couldn’t care less about you.

You are crying because of what is and what isn’t.

And trust me when I say, you’re crying for the last time.  

_

You woke up today and the ache was still there, that mind numbing helpless feeling of isolation.  

But instead of that horrible drilling pain to the brain, it was a small tremor in the back of your head. And for the most part, you could ignore it. Sauntering down the hall with your many files, you stop in front of the large wooden door and stare at the name plaque. The morning air felt fresh. Maybe that was why you took so many deep breaths. And another one, before knocking on the door.

“Come in.” You hear an easy-going voice and you open the heavy door carefully.

“Ah! ___, I was just about to call you! Great job at that meeting by the way, you really wowed the investors.”

Your boss sat relaxed at the front of the vast room, in the middle of her bulky brown desk like some sort of royal.

“Thank you.” You smile, stepping into her large office. The air was cooler in here and a shiver ran down your spine at the sudden chill that intruded your light purple blouse. Your skin erupted in small goosebumps, both from the temperature and the sights of your grinning boss.

Not that you didn’t want to see it, you were just so unsure of what to do when it would inevitably fade at the news you were about to share. It’s what you’ve been scarred of from your whole life, the thought of disappointing an authority figure. But seeing as how two-thirds of them disappointed you instead, you really could not care anymore at this point.

She watches you pace your way up to her desk, small inquisitiveness in her wide set eyes.

“Did you have something for me?” She asks, pointing to the files in your hand with her gaze.

“Oh, these-” You put down the big stack of gray folders in front of her, “This is just something you have to look over.”

“I see. And what about that?”

Your grip tightens around the envelope in your now empty hands. “T…This is…my resignation letter.”

Her stare shifts from the envelope to you, mouth parting to display her surprise.

“Resignation?”

Throughout your life you always thought your body was a strange one. The length of the reactions you felt had to be abnormal, you continuously believed it. Do others feel this cold when they are alone? Do others feel this upset at the sun for rising? Do they feel the deep ache of the tragic finale that was the last 7 years? You sure did. But you still got up, you still made it out of that wretched house that was too bare to bear, and you kept it moving. And to you, that’s what matters.

There was so much thinking you did last night, so many thoughts flew in and around your head. You wonder how others reflect back on their life. What regrets do they swallow, what makes them laugh the loudest? What parts do they cry the hardest and who do they miss?

You couldn’t tell, you’d only been you the past 7 years. It was useless to sonder. So you didn’t, instead you thought about who you were. On that cold floor of the house you cemented with your naïve heart, tears dried by the very air you hated, you thought about the past seven years.

And the past 4 months.

The rooftop, the club, the people in your life, the people not, the heart break, the longing. You had always been analytical, and it was safe to say you had found the answer you sought.

It was funny how the answer became so clear once you only thought about yourself, obscuring yourself from other’s needs for the very first time.  

“Yes.” You state undoubtedly, cold long forgotten. “I’m resigning.”

Another sigh as you leave the room. But this one was of relief. Although a bit upset at losing her best employee, she had taken the news surprisingly well. She even encouraged you when you told her what you were planning to do after this. Irene would be glad to hear that.

Although the pain was there, it didn’t have a hold on you anymore. You wouldn’t allow it to.

“There you are!” You hear, jumping in your spot as your palm was still on your boss’ door handle.

As you look up, a handsome young man with bunny-esque features jogs up to you. His left arm was behind his back, concealing something from your vision. All you could focus on was the strain it caused his muscles.

“I was looking for you,” He comes up close and you could hear his rapid breathing. His lavender scent gentle invades your space. You look at him curiously, watching the way his face falls as he realizes where you stood, “Hey, were you meeting the CEO? You’re not in trouble, are you?”

The fact that he seemed genuinely concerned made you laugh. “I’m not.”

He exhales a sigh of relief. “Thank God, didn’t want you getting fired for being in love with me.”

For the longest time you had been avoiding him. Ever since thinking of him in that way, you ran away from wherever you spotted him. Yet you had forgotten how easy-going he was. How effortlessly he made you laugh.

“Pfft, please.” You scrunch your nose, “You’re a goofball.”

He just stares at you, a wide smile present on his face. Tilting your head to the side, you squint at him.

“What’s the matter?”

“N-nothing, you just…seem different today…from last time I mean.”

“In a bad way?”  

“No!” He shouts flustered, “I-in g- a good way! You seem relaxed.”

You break out into a laugh. He really was the brightest employee. It was a shame you didn’t get to spend more time with him.  

“Thank you.” You say, as you watch him blush fondly. “I feel different. Relaxed, I guess.”

I’m no longer cold.

His gaze travels down, as if he had something he wanted to say. Your eyebrow quirks at him when you remember he still had his arm behind his back.

“What are you hiding?” You ask with a sneaky smirk.

He grins back at you, displaying his large teeth. Biting his bottom lip, he swings his arm out,  

“Tah-dah!”

There were suddenly a bundle of white roses in front of you, a gentle scent of freshness blew past you. You subconsciously took a long whiff, the pure layered petals creating a picture-esque image. Once your surprise passed, you were left doubtful.

A part of you had forgotten the bet.

“Roses?”

“Yup.” The man holding the bundle up to your face beamed

Scoffing, you place your hands on your hips. “Are you kidding? You expect me to believe you found roses around the building?

“But I did.” He pouts, and for a second you were ready to blindly believe him. Until you caught ahold of yourself. This lying brat!

“Where exactly did you find these beautifully healthy flowers, hmm? The backwall where even weeds don’t grow?”

“Yes, actually.” He states just as proudly, “I planted them.”

Your eyes widen at his words. “You did what?!”

He moves closer to you, you could feel his breath hitting you as his face was adjacent with yours. “I. Planted. Them.”

“T-that’s…Y-y-you ca-”

“Why not?” He asks with a mischievous glint in his eye, “The bet was to find flowers on the property, it doesn’t matter where they came from. And like you said, there’s some gorgeous land on the backwall.”

Your jaw drops slightly at his reasonings. You wanted to continue arguing but instead you just stood there watching him giggle in the most adorable way.

“You wanted pretty flowers, I got you pretty flowers.” He winks, handing you the roses. “Think of it as a one-month anniversary gift.”

Oh, right. He still thought you were new here.

His naivety makes you burst into laughter, the first genuinely happy expression you’ve made in months. It was mystery at first, but now you knew now why you liked him so much. The youthful nature, the sincerity he displayed was alluring. You didn’t have to be any front you had put up in the past in front of him, instead you were just another person. Someone normal for once.

“Thank you Jungkook.” You laugh as he proudly holds up his nose. Just as your eyes twinkle upon him, you recall upon something suddenly. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a small piece of paper, your number scribbled on it long ago. Honestly, you couldn’t help but like him.

“Here. You earned it.”

He looks at your hand extending the paper, as your other holds the roses close to your heart. His heart beat quickens at the sight, you were so graceful and effortlessly beautiful, he wanted to know you more and more. Jungkook knew when he first saw you, the traces of a secret battle all across your face. Although he didn’t want to pry, he couldn’t help but let his heart be captured by the silent beauty that shone from you as natural as daylight.

“Thank you.” He mutters, his ears turning red.

While you look at him staring at your digits in awe, you found him to be an absolutely enchanting man. And you wanted him to know that, so you step up to him, softly connecting your lips with his cheek. You could feel him freeze under you, and it made you feel enthralled. It was nice, being in control for once.

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook.”

With that you sauntered down the hall, almost turning the corner before you hear his melodious tone stutter out to you. “T-this Saturday? It’s a date!”

Although surprised, you said nothing, just continuing to walk along the hallway. But you couldn’t help the grin that broke out on your face, thankfully obstructed from him, of course. You felt giddy all the way back to your office. Once you were there, you squealed in glee.

Through your small jumps and smiles, your phone rang, startling you. Already? You thought before checking the caller ID. In a flash your beam dropped, orbs beholding the name anxiously. How did he get your number? With a hasty sigh to calm you nerves, and an oddly guilty feeling, you decidedly answer the call.

“Hello…Yoongi?

Meanwhile, back at your boss’ hallway, a certain bunny boy hadn’t moved an inch. Argh, he felt so stupid. Why did he ask you out so fast? The plan was to first call you, maybe get to know you. But somehow, when you told him you’d see him around, it felt like a goodbye…the forever type. His gut told him he had to act quickly.

You didn’t even respond though…wow he felt dumb. Huffing, he rubs his face with his oversized hands. He didn’t blow it, did he? Should he call you tonight to make sure? Did you even want him to call? Well, obviously, you gave him your number!

As he was faced with a silent moral dilemma, he fails to register a young woman pacing up to him.

“Hello?”

He jumps with a small scream, which has the lady confused. She recognizes him though, he must’ve been one of the new recruits. Yes, the overly enthusiastic one.

“Umm, Mr. Jeon, right? You were just speaking to the supervisor, weren’t you? Can you give her this last gray file for me, please? I forgot to hand it to her.” With that the lady clacks away in a rush.

Jungkook stares at the file. She must have been talking about you. He smiles, thinking this gave him a valid reason to look for you again without seeming like a creep. This time, he’ll be more suave – more stress-free with his methods. This time, he’ll have his answer. The stretchy smile soon disappears, however, once the lady’s words fully register in his mind.

Did she just say supervisor?!

It was subtle really, blink once and you’d miss it.

Jimin softly shut the door behind him, looking into the dim living room he never quite got used to.

Did this place always feel so empty? He thought, staring at the walls with disinterest. He’s never had to be in here alone, he realizes. You were always here to warm the spaces between the loneliness.

But who was here to warm you?

It didn’t matter anymore – you didn’t matter anymore. You had changed, you weren’t the person Jimin agreed to marry. The you now weren’t someone he recognized. Time passes by too fast; he couldn’t keep up with it anymore. That’s why he wanted to end it with you as quickly as he could. Wasn’t it just yesterday he was confronted by you? Was it yesterday when he broke everything off?

He really couldn’t remember.

Oh, but his body sure did. His face grew thinner every day, arms losing the vitality his lithe limbs always presented. It was like his body realized you were leaving him and began a protest of its own. No one from college would recognize the Jimin he was now, the one who started to speak a little less. The one who stiffened his neck and sagged his shoulders. This wasn’t their Jimin.

As he stared off at the dining table, his mind recalls upon that rainy night. Where the distance between you started to grow like poisonous gas. It was the first time he felt the detachment from your side, since before you had always made yourself emotionally and physically available to him. Needless to say, he abhorred it, he hated what you had become. All without understanding the irony.

Jimin was someone who never understood his faults, too busy picking out the mistakes of others. Another thing he slighted in was confrontation, because he’s never been called out. Only when he looked in the mirror recently did he have the worst of days, lashing out at himself, at Tina at his friends and coworkers. Yes, he kept himself quite busy. Everyone was beginning to leave him, and he was getting desperate. Running his hands through his hair, he starts to trudge towards the bedroom. He was exhausted, shifting between work, leaving you and consoling Tina. His scandalous lover wanted to make a life with him, he just wanted to rest, maybe for a month or two. It’s alright though, he could just keep himself in her safety for a while before running off to whatever new toy he found next.  

Once he’s inside the bedroom, he freezes involuntarily. The sight of the familiar place had his heart yearning. It made him angry, that feeling of attachment he could possibly have connected to you. You were nothing to him and these days you were a headache to deal with. He gave seven years to you, you should’ve been grateful. Now he just missed the old you, the you who would follow him blindly. Jimin wasn’t made to be questioned.

So why did he feel like puking his guts out onto the floor? Why did it wound him to blink? Face it, the voice inside sneers at him. You love. Someone like her. You’re pathetic.

No, he doesn’t.

Yet he recalls upon another buried memoir. When he first started dating you, he slept with another girl in the same week. That’s what he did to all the girls he ‘dated,’ it turned him on to know people desired even if he was ‘taken.’ It was then as he held the other woman asleep in his arms, you texted him ‘goodnight’ and a bizarre feeling came over him. Guilt. He became so afraid, he ignored you for a week. Until he yearned to see you again. And why exactly should Jimin deny himself of anything he seeks? The same situation occurred a few more times, till it became a habit like alcohol. Although it may burn the next day, in that moment you enjoy the carnal pleasure for what it was. Pleasure.

He would never admit that other women never gave him the same sensation anymore, that you and the vanilla and wholesome sex meant everything to him at some point. Never, ever. Because he didn’t love you. The beating in his head couldn’t convince him otherwise.

In all honesty, he didn’t have an answer himself. Why did Jimin marry you? He didn’t love you…you just asked him about it once. Subtly hinting to marriage when asking him about what his thoughts on it were. Of course, you’d want commitment, every damn bitch wants commitment. And in that moment, he should have shut you down. Should have used his charms to make your place clear to you. Yet he didn’t have it in him to hurt you. Instead he proposed to you the next week, thinking that you’d vanish like the other girls when he made his intentions clear. But why? Why were you the only one different? It wasn’t like he loved you.

He didn’t.

Which is why it was easy for him break it off with you, wasn’t it? So easy, that he hadn’t slept or eaten in days.  

He was on the brink, his conscious just needed a little more push to take over.

Jimin wasn’t here for anything big today. Just searching for a custom J pendant he seemed to have lost a while back. Sadly, he didn’t know if it was you or not – he didn’t know where it was at all actually. Maybe he left it here, maybe he left it with another faceless girl he fucked senseless. As soon as he forces himself back to reality, he begins to look around. He was already late today, and you would be home soon…he didn’t want to run into you again.

Cluttering about, a bit staggered from his lack of forte, he steps up to the bedside drawer in one swift motion. He pulls open the drawer, running his fingers through all the items present inside. It was then that he stumbled upon a letter.

Marked with his name.

He couldn’t help but feel curious, drawn to your timid handwriting on the otherwise blank paper. Picking it up, he opens it to find hundreds of words scribbled together. Although the words were slightly messy, there were no mistakes he spotted, leading him to think you must have rewritten the letter a thousand times.

His breath was in his lungs, his feet glued to the floor. Something inside him wanted to put it back – leave it alone, his nauseous gut giving him another warning. But he began to read it anyway. Because why should Jimin be denied from anything he seeks?

Dear Jimin, the letter began and Jimin’s eyebrow twitched.

I’m not sure how to write this. I’ve rewrote it so many times already my wrist hurts. But I do want to tell you all of this, and as I am not the best at conversing my thoughts across, I would rather jot them all down. In hopes that my heart could reach you through them.

I’ve recently done a lot of stuff I never thought were possible for me. I made a friend, I learned a new interest, I took up therapy. There’s so much I want to talk about! But I’ll keep it short. Even through everything I did, I thought of you. Every corner I turned; ever route I took. Somehow, I felt you were on the other side, waiting for me.

No matter what anyone said, it didn’t mean anything to me. Just you, Jimin. And I realized, how much I need you. How I can’t lose you. I lost my mother Jimin, I lost her because I wasn’t perfect, and I know, to you I am not perfect.

But to me, you’re perfect Jimin. Which is why I don’t care what anyone says. I’m scared of coming home lost and cold, I’m scared of losing my home, which is you. I know I haven’t been great to you these past few days and the truth is I was hurt. I was alone and scared, but I should have known...I should have remembered who you are to me.

These past few years I am beyond grateful for. Thank you for spending your days growing old with me. I remember all the little stuff. Like that time, we went to the theater and you ordered too much popcorn and the aftertaste of the butter lasted in your mouth for a week. You always said me kissing you made the taste a bit more bearable. Or what about that time I got malaria and you stayed up for three days with me in the hospital? I have never seen you so scared.

That’s our love, Jimin. Those days mean so much to me, I wish you would remember them.

No person can get between us, Jimin. I won’t allow them. I want to apologize to you; I want to take everything I said back. I’ll be better, Jimin. I’ll remind you why you wanted to marry me.  

I’ll be perfect, Jimin.

So, please. Come home to me...darling.

Sincerely, your loving wife.

The door slammed open and shut, breaking him out of his concentration. Jimin was too immersed, he didn’t even notice how much time had passed. All he did know were of the tears that lingered his sockets. With an aching inhale, he practically ran out of the living room to catch you by the entrance. It was like magic then, you were a sight to behold. A most beautiful fairy.

You were in the middle of removing your heels before you noticed Jimin’s presence. It made you halt in your tracks, your hand still carrying your small pumps. He holds you inside his gaze with such intensity, it makes you gulp. What was he doing here? Had he always looked this sick?

…Was he crying?  

In moments he was upon you, his strong arms molding around your limbs as he exhales into your neck. You were as stiff as a board, confusion and angst swirling your mind.  

“J…Jimin, wha-”

“I love you, ___.”

…

What?

“I love you, I love you ___.” He repeats, moving off you to stare into your eyes. His orbs were bright, glazed but sparkly. All you could do was gape at him.

And in the midst of your shook state, you peak at the letter clasped in his hand.

He follows your gaze, holding up the paper to you.  

“Let me explain.” Jimin pleads, seeming sincere for the first time in…forever. “T-that night, our anniversary night, I wanted to come home to you. I really did. But Tina got into my head with and she...she manipulated me. Into thinking I don’t love my own wife! I was so confused, so instead I decided to listen to my carnal desires once again, push you out of my mind the only way I knew how.”

You were still trying to process everything. Why was he here again? “Wha...what?”

He looks sad just then, beyond exhausted like he was on the brink.

“I love you…___. Everyone’s leaving me these days, but you. You were always there for me.”

“…Jimin…”

“___, I…I have been in a lot of pain since I left. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat. I missed you so much. I never wanted to admit it, I always ran from it. And you were just…always so understanding…that I never looked back at my actions. Never thought what I was doing might hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

It hit you like a truck. Jimin apologized. This was the Jimin you saw that day after Mina. The vulnerable, broken boy.

“You’ve been coming on so strong…I couldn’t handle it. I thought I finally got the chance to break it off with you and be free…but I was wrong. I was wrong. I love you, ___. I don’t know since when but maybe I always had. And being away from you helped me understand that, the agony I felt. The yearning…I never want to leave home again. Your letter helped me understand! You make me a better person, ___.”

Jimin smiles, “So I’ll stay. I’m home ___. Thank you for bringing me home.”

Once again, he wraps you in his hug, ready to end the night with you in his arms. He finally feels free after so long, the spikes slowly removing themselves off his body. You were his energy, he realizes, you would help him get back on his feet. Finally, everything will be okay again, finally he can have you within his pincers once more. How he’s missed the delicious taste of eating you alive.

But as happy as he feels…he couldn’t help notice you weren’t responding.

Slowly, he unwinds from you, muddled. He takes a look at you, you who didn’t make any face. You who weren’t reacting to him the way he always knew you would.

Instead, you just glared.

It was his turn to be flustered, his turn to take a step back and process everything.

“___?”

“I…don’t love you, Jimin.”

Silence. As if you just dropped a bomb. His eyes widen, before squinting at you.

“W-what? Since when?” He almost sounds offended

“Since just now.”

“…What are you saying, ___.” He scoffs, taking your hand in his. You weren’t wearing your ring…again. “You love me.”

“I don’t.” You say more firmly, removing your hand from his. Jimin just stares at his now empty palm in surprise. “I don’t love you Jimin, and I’m not sorry about it.”

When he doesn’t retort, you sigh. “Jimin, did you know…a few days ago…I heard my secretary on the phone…she was talking to her boyfriend.” Looking down at how close your bodies were, you take a step away from him as courtesy, but you fail to regard the way his face grimaced at your distance. “He told her ‘I love you’ and do you know what she said?”

You look back up at him, and Jimin wonders if you were truly asking him for a second. “She told him ‘I know,’ just like that. Almost like she took it for granted, you know. But I didn’t think of it like that…instead I was jealous of her. Because in her mind, she doesn’t have any doubts that her boyfriend loves her. Which is why she’s able to respond so casually like that…he gives her so much love, that she never has to second guess her answer.”

Giving him a moment to register everything you said, you pause for a bit and smile.

“And Jimin…I have never felt that way with you.”

He winces.

“I have always doubted myself, second guessed your love and honesty. I always thought ‘there’s no way he could love me’ and there was nothing you did to convince me otherwise. But do you know Jimin? Do you know how many times you’ve said, ‘I know’ when I told you how much I love you?”

“_...” His voice dies

“That’s what I want, Jimin. I realize, it’s what I always wanted. That unconditional, blatant love. That’s what I deserve. I went through so much…yet I held onto you still. No matter what anyone said. And if anyone was looking at me right now, into my life, they would think I was crazy. But it was just that I couldn’t let you go. I couldn’t do it, I don’t know why. I just couldn’t…”

There was a glimmer of hope in his dark pupils.

“Even in that letter…I held back so much because I was afraid of surprising you. I could never be honest with myself. So that’s why…thank you for letting me go. For leaving me. Do you know how much I accomplished when you left me, how much I couldn’t accomplish in years? I had an actual orgasm, I left my job, I’m going to start a restaurant with my best friend, Jimin, I gave a guy my number.” His face went through many changes; anger, shock, hurt. But you continued on anyway. “All of that, just because you weren’t around poisoning me. Leaving me was the best thing you did for me, Jimin.”

He begins to tear down, tears fall in his eyes and he looks away. His jaw was clenches and his nostrils flared, telling you he was upset. But you didn’t feel satisfied, you didn’t feel happy that he was as hurt as you had been. You felt nothing for him. Maybe except pity.

Carefully, you step closer to him. Taking his face in your palm.  

“And I hope, Jimin, that leaving me helps you as well. That you stop chasing after meaningless convictions and you find whatever it is that can keep you grounded. You’ve hurt a lot of people Jimin, and for that you will suffer a lot as well. Me, all the girls and people you threw away after using. We never could help each other together, but we can help each other apart. It’s going to stab for a while, and you’ll feel as cold for a very long time. But then, I’ll pray for you to learn Jimin. I’ll try.”

And that was that, the ache lingering in your heart, was pushed all the way down to your stomach. It was still there, but not bothering you as much. Not controlling your destiny any longer. In your senses a melody played in the background; a constricted melancholic piano melody dedicated to love, to the happiness and woes.

This man you stared at, the man you once loved for seven whole years, who was he now? He couldn’t be blamed for everything, you had given him chances to hurt you again and again after all. More importantly, who were you? Definitely not the same woman you’d been when you first found out about Jessica. Not Mina. Not even the new one. You were changing, always evolving and you were proud of that.

You really were so thankful that Jimin had decided not to come home that night. That he continuously left you alone, to stand on your own. Because now your legs felt stronger than ever. There were a lot of people you were thankful for, a lot left to confront but this was your story. So good job you. Your love was first and foremost for yourself. Of course, you’ll continue therapy, you’ll work hard to open a new restaurant, you’ll try to give yourself the happiness you always deserved. Not every day would be great, some days you were going to struggle and there would be a lot of tears. But they’ll be your tears, your struggles, your joy, they won’t be based off of some other person’s mood.

This was only the end of Jimin’s chapter. Your real story will begin from today.

You were never going to convince yourself otherwise. Were never going to push down your feelings and act like they didn’t exist. That was the least Jimin had taught you.

It really was nice outside that rotten cocoon.

He was quiet for the first time in ages, and you honestly preferred silence from him. There were a lot of stupid things he said once he opened his mouth. Why should he become a better person from your pain? What kind of creator allows that?

After a moment of staring at his lost soul, you take a deep breath, exhaling softly. You couldn’t stay here too long, Yoongi had called you, getting your number off someone named Joy, asking you to come over to Cypher Road. He wanted to apologize for that night, as well as meet someone. If Jimin needed help, he should go search for it like an adult.

“Ok, umm…finish up whatever you were up to…I have to head out.” You say, turning around. Jimin doesn’t respond, but you couldn’t care less how he feels right now. “And I signed the divorce papers, they are on your shelf in the closet. Tell me when they are finalized, I’ll be free all week.”

You turn the door handle, pulling the door open halfway before remembering something and spinning back to him.  

“Not… Saturday though. I have a date.”

[jamaisjoons]

intro: her IX ⤑ knj | m

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 you enter namjoon’s life in the most unexpected of ways, but will you be able to stay, especially when he comes with three adorable but chaotic children, even more chaotic best friends and a bitch of an ex-wife? not to mention your own emotional baggage. 〞singe dad au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: single dad!namjoon x marine vet!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: fluff ⋆ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 9k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: soft dom!namjoon like the SOFTEST dom, sub!reader, namjoon has a big cock as usual, detailed blowjob, cum swallowing, namjoon is so fucking soft and gentle and i’m crying, body worship, dirty talk, fingering, pussy eating, cum eating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, someone explain how these are the only warnings so far and the smut is still somehow 6k already, unprotected sex, once again namjoon is HUGE and they have issues fitting him inside, cockwarming, riding, some REALLY soft sex, first time sex like they’re not virgins but it’s their first time together ygm, creampie, reader cries during sex just like i did when writing this fkn yeet

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: hello my sugar demons!!! I am BACK!!! sorry i went on a weird hiatus but idk my heart wasn’t in it to write but THIS CHAPTER CURED ME ?! I HOPE !! anyway. this chapter is pure smut and there’s absolutely 0 plot so if you’re under 18 please do not read this chapter. skip it completely. that being said, for people who are 18+ and have never read this series you COULD read this as a one-shot but also DONT because the build-up to the point is amazing (or so i've been told) so please check out the other eight chapters. But if you don't want to and only wanna read this then that's cool too.

⏤ Previous || Masterlist || Next

The moment you step foot in Namjoon’s bedroom, you feel the temperature rise. Your clammy hands shake almost imperceptibly in his while Namjoon slowly pulls you closer towards his bed. You’ve been in Namjoon’s bed before, you’ve slept in Namjoon’s bed before - but this time, it’s going to be completely different. Almost as if he can sense your nervousness, Namjoon’s eyes soften; his fingers lightly grip your chin and turn you up and towards him. He can see the anxiousness in your eyes and feel the way your body trembles near his.

“Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Namjoon says, his hands moving to trace your side. His touch is completely attentive, fingers slowly massaging your flesh through your clothing. Reflexively, your eyes flutter, a soft whine escaping your lips. His words cause your heart to clench, and you quickly shake your head, your hair following the movement.

“No!” you quickly call out before blushing, your eyes downcast. “I want to. I’m just- nervous,” you breathe out. You feel Namjoon nod above you as his fingers flex and tighten around your hips comfortingly.

“No need to be nervous, Angel; I’ve got you. We’ll take it slow, okay?” Namjoon asks, his lips brushing against the top of your head.

“Angel?” you question, eyes flicking up to stare at him as you pull your lower lip between your teeth.

“Mhmm. My angel, my love,” Namjoon reveres breathily. You find yourself swooning at his words, and your resolve hardens. You want this. Taking in a deep breath, you nod. Then, you look up at him, and your neck strains as you stand on your tiptoes before you’re pressing your lips against the corner of his.

“I want this. I want you,” you whisper as you look earnestly into his eyes. Steeling every single nerve you have, you gather your courage and run your hand down his sculpted chest and towards his clothed length. Namjoon lets out a pained moan as you begin palming him through his shorts. The material of his trousers is incredibly thin, and you can almost feel everything through his boxers. He’s still a little soft, but despite that, he feels huge under your palm.

“Ah,” Namjoon gasps. Then, as one of your fingers runs along the length of his shaft through his clothing, he hisses. Completely taken by how he feels, you find yourself slowly admiring his cock. You can’t see it yet, but it radiates heat through his clothing as it pulses under your touch, slowly hardening. He grows under your touch, shorts just barely tenting as you continue to palm him through the material of his clothing.

“Fuck... Angel,” Namjoon breathes out, his face scrunched up in pleasure. You stare up at him, eyes scanning across his features as your hand slowly curls around his length before pumping up and down. When he lets out a pained groan, his eyes slowly shutting at your ministrations, you find your core clenching. Within the throes of pleasure, Namjoon looks beautiful.

The lighting in his room is low, the soft amber lights glowing just enough to highlight his figure and features. Other than that, the room is almostbathed in darkness, threads of moonbeams that shine through the gaps in his curtain being the only thing keeping the dark at bay. You slowly walk forwards, pushing Namjoon to the bed until he sits down with a slight bounce. Automatically, his hands move to grip your hips, pressing a kiss against the middle of your stomach. His kiss is tender, more tender than you are used to, and once again your heart clenches in your chest.

“Gods I-” Namjoon whispers against your stomach, but he’s cut off when you slowly lower yourself to your knees. His eyes widen slightly, and his hands shoot out to stop you when you’re halfway onto your knees. “Angel, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Namjoon quickly assures.

“I want to,” is your only reply. Namjoon lets out a little groan, his chest rumbling on top of you.

You smile reassuringly at him and lower to your knees completely before pulling his lips between yours, your hands carding through his hair. Your kiss is sweet and gentle, Namjoon’s lips moving languidly in tandem with yours. He’s as sugary as he always is, and you find yourself smiling into the kiss. Namjoon’s arms wrap around your torso, pulling you closer into him as your tongues dance against each other. His cock is hot against your abdomen, and you can feel it throb with each and every each stroke of his tongue against yours. Slowly, you grow impatient, the feel of his cock calling out to you, and you break off the kiss.

Moving down his body, your hands rake up under his top, nails scraping against the smooth flesh as you kiss along the column of his neck. When you hit the collar of his top, your hands grip under his shirt before you tug it hard, wanting it off of him. Namjoon laughs at your impatience, your tongue running all over his collarbones as you lightly nip the skin. Corded arms move to help you undress him until his chest is left naked and exposed. Pulling away from his skin, you lower your jaw.

God, he’s achingly beautiful. It’s not fair.

It’s almost as if he’s a carved out masterpiece. Smooth, dulce de leche skin has your mouth watering, toned muscle rippling under it, and the slight sheen to his flesh has you wanting to reach out and taste him, which is exactly what you do. Your tongue reaches out, swirling around his skin before lightly suckling your mark onto him. The moan that escapes Namjoon’s mouth is addictive, and you want to hear more. You lick down towards his pecks, stopping when your lips scrape against his dark brown nipple. You pull it between your teeth and swirl your tongue around it, smirking when Namjoon hisses through clenched teeth, before continuing your descent down his body.

You can’t help but giggle at the adorable little rolls of his belly, the muscles flexing as you kiss the waistband of his shorts. Running your nose against the strap of elastic, you press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock when it brushes against your lips. Your fingertips hook underneath his shorts and boxers before you slowly slide them down his thick thighs. Namjoon lifts his hips to aid you to shimmy them off of him, his cock popping out. When he’s completely naked, you still.

You had previously thought his torso was beautiful - but now, completely naked? He’s a sight to behold. His arms are braced on the mattress, defined muscle pulled taut as he holds himself up. Your eyes rove down his torso and towards his lower half before you gulp. His thighs are spread wide, and the thickness of them is only exaggerated by the mattress forcing the flesh up. Gradually, your eyes trail up from his thighs to his cock before you swallow thickly once again. You were right, he’s huge. He’d felt large in the small palm of your hand, but standing up right now? It seems almost surreal.

The shaft itself is incredibly thick, and curiously, you reach out your hand to wrap around him, fingers tentatively curling around it. You’re not surprised when they aren’t able to touch. In awe, you begin pumping up and down, completely taken with the way your palm slides over the thick, dusky mauve veins. Dragging your hand up to the angry purple tip, your thumb brushes against his weepy slit, rubbing his precum around the head. Vaguely, you can hear him lowly moan above you, but you’re far too consumed with his cock. When your mouth begins to water, you slowly take him into your cheeks.

“Oh shit-” Namjoon groans. His head falls back as your mouth wraps around the head of his cock, and he revels in the velvet of your cavern around his head. It’s wet and warm and feels so incredibly wonderful that he finds his fingers fisting in his sheets as he tries his hardest not to come undone then and there. Smirking against him, you swirl your tongue around the tip before giving a kittenish lick along the slit. Precum drips out and coats your tongue, the saltiness of his taste heavy on your tastebuds. You groan under him and can’t help but lick his slit again, wanting more of him in your mouth.

“You taste-” you begin before you pop his dick out of your mouth, “so good,” you continue as you lick down the underside of his length. Namjoon laughs above you, one hand reaching out to pet your hair as you continue licking his shaft.

“Yeah, Angel? You like the way I taste?” Namjoon asks, his tone cheeky and eyes dark as they glint at you. With a slight roll of your eyes, you descend down on him again. This time, your mouth sinks further on him, expertly taking him in until the tip hits the back of your throat. Namjoon chokes before hissing as his head falls back, his hand pressing against the mattress so he could brace himself once again. Gone is the mischievous glint in his eyes, and you mentally applaud yourself for having him so fucked out from just your mouth.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Namjoon manages to choke out as you begin bobbing up and down his length. You’re almost unable to take down his entire length - in fact, you only manage about a half. Automatically, your hand wraps around the length of the shaft you’re unable - yet - to take into your mouth. You begin lightly sucking, creating a vacuum effect, while your tongue continuously swirls around any part of the length it can reach and your hand squeezes his shaft rhythmically.

“Fuck- Angel, you feel… hng- so good- you’reso good,” Namjoon reveres, his voice coming out as a laboured whisper. Happy at being able to please him and preening under his praise, you force his cock further down his throat. Namjoon jerks almost violently at the sudden movement of your mouth, and you, yourself, choke. Your eyes begin watering, and you hold yourself there for a few moments.

“____, Angel! It’s okay you don’t-” Namjoon begins, only to be cut off when you force yourself to swallow and take him down your throat, “hnnnng- oh my god,” Namjoon moans through clenched teeth as he feels the silken velvet of your oesophagus gradually encase his dick.

You hold him in the back of your throat, trying your hardest to breathe through your nose before swallowing very slowly and taking more and more of him into your mouth. The way your throat slowly opens around him, the warm, wet flesh pulsing around his cock, has Namjoon slowly losing reigns over the little control he has. His chest begins heaving, and his breath comes out laboured. Your tongue continuously runs along his length, although this time more subdued due to the way his cock splits your jaw open. You begin bobbing up and down, very gently plunging his cock in and out of your throat, his length pulsing almost uncontrollably in your mouth.

“Oh god- no, ___. Fuck, Angel- I can’t-” comes out Namjoon’s stuttered warning. Suddenly, he jerks out of your throat until only his head remains in your mouth, and then he’s cumming. Your eyes widen as you feel the bulbous cockhead pulsate in your mouth, shooting rope after rope of his thick cum into the back of your throat. Swiftly, you suck his cockhead, furiously swirling around the seam of his cockhead as you swallow down his cum. The heat of his semen slowly slides down your throat, and you moan around his cock, relishing in the salted taste.

“Fuck- stop,” Namjoon says, pushing your head off of him when the stimulation gets too much. You release his cock with a pop, pulling away and breathing deeply. He’s completely undone above you, naked and flushed with the most beautiful shade of dusky pink you’ve ever seen. It only serves to look even more tantalising paired with his smooth toffee skin. Pulling your swollen lips between your teeth, you gnaw on them, simply watching Namjoon inhale deeply as he slowly catches his breath and comes down from his high. Once Namjon gets his breathing back under control, he moves his head and looks down at you.

“Come ‘ere,” Namjoon says, reaching out for you. He takes your hand within his before pulling you to your feet. Namjoon’s hands automatically perch themselves on your hips, and he pulls you further between his thighs. Long, dexterous fingers trace along your hips and towards the hem of your top before sliding it up your torso and then divesting you of it. He presses his face against your skin, and you shiver when his lips run along the flesh, his breath fanning your stomach. Then, he’s guiding you to sit on his thighs.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful,” Namjoon says, looking up at you as his hand cups your jaw while his thumb runs over your swollen lips. His words cause your eyes to soften, and you cup his jaw with both your hands before kissing him tenderly. Namjoon’s eyes slip shut before deepening the kiss. Your mouth is filled with both the remnant taste of his salted cum as well as his sugary tongue gliding against yours. Involuntarily, you begin grinding against his thighs, your core completely dewy and hot, aching with the need for him.

Feeling your hot pussy against his naked thigh, Namjoon slowly lifts you off of him before spinning around and laying you down on the bed. Your hair fans out on his pillow, and Namjoon braces himself over you as both his arms cage your body. His lips never leave yours, finding it almost impossible to pull away. Your tongues dance sensually, Namjoon’s caressing yours tenderly as he pours every ounce of his feelings into the kiss. The only reason you both finally pull away is due to the ignited need for oxygen in both your lungs.

With a gasp, Namjoon breaks away, instead, peppering kisses along your jaw and down towards your neck. When his tongue scrapes against the outline of your clavicle you find yourself gasping. His teeth gently nibble your skin, pulling the supple flesh between his plush lips and sucking as he leaves his own mark on you. When he’s sufficiently marked you, he pulls away, admiring the pink flesh that will undoubtedly bruise. Reverently, he places a soft kiss against the mark before angling his neck and kissing the underside of your jaw.

Namjoon shifts his body down so his face is just over your breasts. Brushing his lips over the hem of your bra, Namjoon’s mouth grazes your breasts just slightly. With a groan, you arch into his tender touch. He’s so gentle with you and even more tender with the way his lips ghost every inch of your chest. It’s more affection than you’ve ever received during sex so you have no idea how to act. Instead, you place your hands on his shoulders and look at him curiously.

“Namjoon?” you ask, head tilting in question. Namjoon only hums in response, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your left breast before nuzzling into the soft mound.

“Aren’t you going to fuck me?” you ask, and Namjoon chuckles against your skin. He buries his face between your breasts, letting your breasts encompass his face as he kisses along your sternum, just above the hem of your bra.

“Mhm... gotta undress you first,” Namjoon replies. You blink before you feel his fingers gently trail along your side and under your back. Aiding him, you arch your back, letting him fumble around with the clasp for a few moments. When he can’t manage to undo the article, he lets out a little groan of irritation. You giggle before pushing him off of you. Sitting up, your arms unwind behind your back, and expertly, you unclasp the bra before sliding it off your arms and throwing it to the side. Namjoon bends over and presses a kiss against your shoulder.

“Sorry - it’s been a long time,” he apologises, his lips ghosting your shoulder as his breath fans your skin. Namjoon’s hand moves to lightly cup your breast, his thumb flicking the nipple until it grows hard under his touch.

“It’s- ah- okay Namjoon,” you gasp, your eyes fluttering at the action. Namjoon pulls away from your shoulder. His eyes darken, gaze flicking all over your chest. You blush under his stare, curling inwards as you cover your breasts from his view. Namjoon’s hand shoots out and grabs your hand before pulling it to his lips. He presses a single kiss against each of your fingertips before laying you back down on the bed.

“Don’t hide from me. You’re so beautiful,” Namjoon exalts, his words barely coming out as a whisper. Your heart trembles in your chest as he kisses his way down your torso. His nose nuzzles the side of your breast before kissing one of your nipples gently. Then his tongue flicks out and laves the bud until it hardens. Your hands shoot out and grip his hair, and you sigh as he continues peppering kisses along your breast before moving to the other one. When he finally feels he’s lavished your breasts with enough attention, he shifts further down - but not before pressing a kiss to the underside of each of your tits.

His hands move down to your hips, fingers sliding under your leggings before slipping both them and your underwear down your thighs. You watch as he kisses his way along the flesh, stopping at your knees. Bending your legs, you let him slip the last of your clothing off of you until you’re left entirely naked. Namjoon presses a kiss to the side of your knee before parting them, his eyes glued towards your exposed core. You blush under his stare and look away slightly, your face heating under his perusal.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” you mutter. You want nothing more than to feel him inside of you. Namjoon chuckles before kissing your inner thigh. He’s almost uncomfortably close to your core causing you to shift your hips nervously.

“Stop being impatient! Soon,” Namjoon admonishes, kissing closer to your pussy. You pull your lip between your teeth and worry it.

“But I sucked you off,” you point out.

“Yeah, and now I’m going to return the favour,” Namjoon whispers, his breath grazing your clit. The moment the words escape his mouth, however, you clamp your thighs shut. Namjoon barely has any time to move out of the way before looking at you in surprise. When he notices the nervousness that practically seeps through every pore of your body, he grows alarmed.

“Love? What’s wrong?” Namjoon asks, kissing your knee while soothingly running his hands down the sides of your thighs.

“I- umm… can we just fuck?” you ask, your jaw twitching.

“What? Do you not want me to eat you out?” Namjoon asks, more than curious by what had you so wound up all of a sudden.

“I- I’ve never…” you begin before looking away. Your fingers twist into the sheets, pulling them towards you - almost as if they were a lifeline.

“What?” Namjoon asks, his jaw dropping as he looks at you incredulously. “You’ve never been eaten out?” Namjoon continues, and you swallow thickly before nodding.

“B-But you gave me head! Probably the best head I’ve ever had,” Namjoon compliments, and despite yourself, you preen under his praise.

“M-My ex was the first and only other person I’ve slept with, and he’d usually make me suck him off before fucking me,” you breathe out, your voice almost inaudible. Namjoon freezes, his fingers gripping the side of your thighs tighter.

“And he wouldn’t eat you out?” Namjoon asks while continuing to tenderly massage your thighs. His touch is calming and gentle, the pads of his fingers soothingly pressing against your skin.

“He- He didn’t like going down on me. I asked once, and he said no because…” you begin before trailing off. Namjoon presses another kiss to your knee, shushing you.

“Because?” he gently coaxes. You take a deep breath, your spine shuddering.

“Because he didn’t like the way I tasted,” you finally manage to get out. Namjoon’s face contorts, his features scrunching as he looks at you in incredulity.

“So he just made you suck him off? Did he even bother making you cum?” Namjoon scoffs. It’s supposed to be an offhanded, sarcastic remark, but his words cause you to wince slightly.

“No,” comes your simple reply. Namjoon instantly freezes below you.

“What?”

“He… he never made me cum. Once he finished… he’d just expect me to finish myself off,” you whisper into the dark bedroom. The moment those words leave your mouth, Namjoon’s jaw clenches, and his fingers grip you tighter. The sudden change of touch causes you to turn your gaze toward him. His eyes are dark, his jaw twitching and lips set into a straight line. He’s not happy.

“Open your legs, Angel,” Namjoon commands, with more authority than you’re used from him. Your eyes widen slightly, and you shake your head.

“You don’t have to! Please,” you reply. Namjoon tuts before his fingers move to your inner thighs, prying your legs apart.

“No, I don’t have to - but I want to. Now come on, Angel, be good for me,” Namjoon coaxes. The sheer command in his voice causes you to blush, and instinctively, you part your thighs, wanting nothing more than to please him.

“Good girl,” Namjoon praises with a kiss to your thigh, and you mewl under his words, chest swelling at his praise. Namjoon shuffles further between your thighs, lips brushing over your pelvis. Namjoon places a soft kiss on your clit and the feel of his plush lips against your slightly hardened bud has you arching off the bed.

“Hnng Joon!” you groan, your voice low. Namjoon chuckles, his breath wafting over your heated core causing you to hiss.

“Gods you're so sensitive. You’re so pretty, Angel. I think this is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” Namjoon says, and you whine, chest flushing warmer with heat.

“Joonie-” you whine, grabbing one of his pillows and smothering it on your face. Namjoon laughs again, before reaching up and gently cajoling the pillow out of your hands.

“Don’t hide from me, Angel - wanna see you. Wanna see the way you blush when I tell you you have a pretty pussy. Wanna see your face when I eat you out for the first time. Wanna see how you look when you cum on my tongue. Wanna see you when you cum for me over and over again,” Namjoon says before he presses another kiss to your clit.

“Namjoon,” you fluster, and despite the shyness that grips at you, you nod and spread your thighs marginally wider.

“Good girl. Now, lemme make you feel good,” Namjoon says. He shifts his hand from your thigh, his pointer finger circling your clit before running along the slit of your folds. His touch is featherlight, ghosting and caressing your dewy lips with the utmost care. It’s as if he’s adoring, venerating, each inch of your pussy.

“Oh,” you breathe out, fingers clenching in the sheets as he continues running his fingers through your folds.

“Fuck, you’re so responsive. I don’t know how anyone wouldn’t wanna make you cum,” Namjoon says before dipping a finger into you. You both hiss: you from the foreign pleasure and Namjoon from how tight your core grips his digit.

“You’re so tight,” Namjoon says, pushing his finger deeper until the entire length is buried into you. You whine out his name, your own fingers clenching tighter into his sheets before you let out a surprised gasp when thick lips wrap around your clit.

“Oh god,” you cry, eyes scrunching shut. You’d never felt suchpleasure in your entire life, and he’d barely even touched you. Namjoon gently suckles your little nub, his tongue flicking around your nub. You cry out louder, spine twisting off the bed. Namjoon slowly retreats his finger from inside you, watching as ropes of your honeyed arousal cling to the pad of his finger, the rest of the digit coated in a thin film of your wetness.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Did sucking me off turn you on that much, Angel?” Namjoon asks cheekily. You blush harder from his words, but the way he sucks his finger, licking up your arousal while staring dead straight into your eyes has your core weeping with wetness. “You taste so good too. I don’t know why he wouldn’t eat you out. Fuck- I can’t get enough,” Namjoon groans before sliding his finger back in you as he licks as a stripe from his finger to your clit.

You bite your lip, your breathing growing harsher with every one of his ministrations. When Namjoon crooks the finger inside you in a ‘come hither’ motion while his tongue whirls around your clit, your hands shoot out and grip his hair. Your fingers thread into his silky locks, while you throw your head back, the crown pressing against the pillow. You writhe on top of him, hips undulating in the slightest motions as he slowly begins pumping the finger in and out of you. It’s more pleasure than you’ve been used to, and you have no idea how to feel. When you’d made yourself cum after all the times your ex had fucked you, it had never felt like this.

“Joo-nie,” you stutter, his name coming out choked, “please- more,” you groan. Namjoon sighs against your folds before you feel a second finger press into you. Your eyes screw shut, and you let out a pained cry as both pleasure and the stinging sensation of him opening you open, grip your being. You feel the two fingers inside you spread your core, Namjoon’s eyes watching as he opens you out. It’s only slightly uncomfortable, your core unused to the stretch, and you let out a soft whine.

Namjoon begins thrusting his fingers in and out, increasing the pace while occasionally curling his fingers inside you. The pumping of his fingers, paired with how his pads brush against the sweet spot inside you every time he curls his digit, slowly has you approaching the edge of your orgasm. Your skin begins flushing, and your flesh tingles almost as if someone was prickling your skin with hot pokers of pleasure. When your thighs begin shaking around his head, Namjoon lets out a groan. The vibrations reverberate around your clit, and you whimper. Suddenly, Namjoon nips at your clit, lightly tugging the nub between his teeth.

The sudden action has you flying off the edge. The knot in your stomach tightens almost painfully, and you wail out his name, your thighs shaking uncontrollably around him. Namjoon feels your soft, silken inner walls pulse around his digit and instantly knows you’re cumming. His eyes flick up, watching the way your chest heaves and you writhe on top of him. Your hips undulate and buck against his face as you ride out your orgasm.

Your back is completely arched off the bed, contorted in such a way he worries you’re going to hurt yourself. He can’t see your face from how far your head is thrown back, but he can see the movement of your throat and chest as you heave for oxygen while continuously wailing out his name. Your skin is heated bright pink, nipples twisting to hardened peaks before pushing further into the air from the way your back arches. He doesn’t think he’s seen anything more beautiful. More than that, he can’t believe your ex had never seen you like this. A part of him feels completely gleeful, knowing that he’s the first and only person that has ever seen you like this - and if he had his way, the lastand only person who would eversee you like this.

“Beautiful,” Namjoon whispers, unable to stop the word tumbling out his mouth. You, however, can’t hear him - completely lost in the haze of your euphoric orgasm. Namjoon presses light kisses to the inside of your left thigh, smiling into your skin as he feels the leg tremble erratically.

Namjoon swallows thickly as he watches a fresh wave of your cum seep out of your core, your walls contracting around his fingers from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Unable to stop himself, he moves his mouth towards your core before pushing his tongue as deep as it can go. The sudden intrusion causes you to jerk on top of him before you moan his name out, louder than you had intended to. Namjoon smiles under you before he begins languidly plunging his tongue inside you with rhythmic motions. One of your hands threads through his silken locks, fisting into his hair as the other moves to your mouth so you can bite down on it and quiet your cries.

“Oh- fuck- Namjoon! Joonie, please- I can’t,” you plead as you sit up and look down at him. It’s almost too much all at once. You’d never had an orgasm that powerful in your life, and the overstimulation was already taking over.

“It’ll fade in a bit, my love. Just wanna taste you. Promised to make you cum on my tongue,” Namjoon says, and his words are slightly muffled by your core. When he pushes his tongue in further, spreading your core with his fingers to make some room, you fall back onto the bed.

His expert tongue darts in and out of you, moving with such agility that you once again question whether it had a mind of its own. He alternates between tensing his tongue and plunging into you before relaxing it and letting it swirl inside your core. With each movement, he collects more and more of your arousal onto his tongue before drinking you down as if he’s a man starved. He finds your taste almost addictive: like it was the sweetest ambrosia gifted to him by the gods themselves.

Gradually, you feel the overstimulation fade until you’re left with just the pleasure of him eating you out. Your skin is heated, covered in a light sheen of sweat from your previous orgasm. The smell of sex fills the air along with the sound of Namjoon’s tongue lazily swirling inside you. It’s almost as if he’s trying to taste every single nook and cranny of your core, his tongue leaving no inch untouched. Your hands fall to your sides, fingers entangling into the sheets.

Namjoon slowly removes his fingers from your core, leaving only his tongue inside. You whine at the sudden loss - though you can’t complain because his tongue moves in ways that his fingers could only dreamof moving - only to mewl when he spreads your folds so he can push his tongue further into you. Retreating his tongue from inside you, Namjoon swirls it around the outside of your core before wrapping his lips around you clit and sucking. The sudden stimulation has you bucking into him, wanting more. You feel his lips curl as he smiles against you before he’s pulling away.

“Do- you- have- any- idea- how- good- you- taste?” Namjoon asks, punctuating each of his words with a soft kiss to your clit. You blush under his words, his eyes staring into yours earnestly. You’d definitely never heard that before.

“God, you’re so wet and so sweet. I could eat you forever. Angel, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen and the sweetest one I’ve ever tasted. I’d happily die here,” Namjoon compliments, and despite yourself, you giggle.

“Well, please don’t. I’ll miss you,” you giggle. Namjoon lets out a little groan, head falling to press against your pelvic bone.

“I don’t understand how you’re so fucking adorable when I’ve got my head buried in your pussy,” Namjoon grumbles, and your eyes widen before you let out a raucous laugh. The sound tingles in Namjoon’s ears, ringing so loudly he finds himself drowning in it. His face softens, his lips curling into a tender smile as he takes in your own bright smile. Your demeanour is completely different from when he first started eating you out: then you were wound tight, anxiousness exuding from you in waves. Now, however, you’re completely relaxed, eyes light and shining in the low lighting of his bedroom as you return your own tender smile.

He lifts his head and pushes his lips back into your folds. Reflexively, your head lolls back, eyes rolling into your skull. Namjoon moves his hands to grip under your ass; large palms press into the soft flesh before he tugs you, pulling your hips further into his face. Darting his tongue out, he begins swirling it all around your pussy once again as he laps up every droplet of your wetness.

“Joonie,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you let him pleasure you in the best way possible. Gods were you missing out. Although, you don’t think Dojae would have even a quarter of the skill Namjoon does.

“I love the way you say my name, Angel,” Namjoon praises, and you preen under his words. Namjoon nuzzles his face into you, pressing kisses against each of your folds before continuing to plunge into you. Your fists curl tighter in the sheets, tugging them as you once again lose yourself in your pleasure. Namjoon brings his thumb to your clit, lightly rolling it under the pad.

“Oh- fuck, Joon,” you whimper, drawing out the syllable of his name. Thrusting his tongue back into your core, Namjoon feels your walls throb around his appendage. Instantly, he knows you’re on the cusp of cumming once again. Languidly, he begins circling his thumb against your clit, applying pressure onto it every now and then. His thumb, paired with the way his tongue laves your insides, has the knot in your abdomen tightening as flashes of euphoria run along your nerves. Involuntarily, your hips gyrate against his face, forcing him further and further into your core as you ride his face.

“That’s it, Angel, ride my face. Make yourself cum. Want you to cum on my tongue so I can taste how sweet you are again,” Namjoon moans against your folds, the vibrators causing you to shiver. When his thumb forcibly presses your clit down, rolling it in tight circles, you feel your stomach ignite. Your orgasm isn’t as strong as the first one. This time, it’s more gentle from Namjoon’s languid actions - but that doesn’t change the complete and utter rapture you feel. You gasp out his name, your toes curling and eyes rolling into your skull while your body quakes over him.

Namjoon helps you ride out your orgasm, your thighs trembling on either side of him. When you begin leaking, Namjoon groans. He wraps his luscious lips around your honeyed hole before drinking down your cum. The sounds are sloppy and wet as he slurps at you. The entire time, he continues twirling your clit under his thumb while his tongue happily laps your core, mouth suckling your centre and pulling your cum into his mouth.

It’s almost too much, and your eyes begin tearing up from the amount of pleasure you’re receiving. You gasp out his name when your pussy starts tingling in pain. Forcibly, you push Namjoon away, your thighs snapping shut and falling to the side onto the bed as your body trembles. Namjoon wipes his mouth on the back of his hand before crawling up to you. Hastily, he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you close into his chest. Your skin feels clammy against his, and the sheen of sweat on both your skin only serves to act as a glue to meld your flesh together.

Namjoon shushes you while petting your hair. He presses lazy kisses against the crown of your head as he holds you, awaiting you to come down from your high. You gasp against him, inhaling deeply as you suck oxygen back into your lungs. When you finally manage to come down from the incredible high of your orgasm, you feel Namjoon’s cock press against your naked thigh, completely hard and fully erect. Lazily, you lift your arm and wrap your hand around his shaft, pumping it up an down.

“Fuck- Angel, don’t do that unless you want me to fuck you,” Namjoon grunts. You giggle before twisting your neck and pressing a kiss against his muscular shoulder.

“Want you,” are the only words you manage to breathe out. Namjoon lets out a hiss before nodding. He lowers you onto your back before climbing on top of you, his arms caging you on either side.

Removing one arm, he braces all his weight onto the other arm. Swiping his hand through your fold, he gathers some of your wetness onto his palm before rubbing it into his cock as makeshift lubrication. Then, gripping the base of the shaft, he runs the head through your folds before finding your core. Taking in a deep breath, you brace yourself as he slowly pushes against your entrance. However, he’s so absurdly thick that, despite how wet you are, it takes a considerable amount of force for him to enter you.

“Ah- Namjoon,” you whimper, hands reaching out and clutching his shoulders tightly as he attempts to sink into you. His head enters you with a pop, and suddenly your core flares with pain from the stretch.

“You’re so fucking tight- are you okay?” Namjoon hisses before stopping, looking at you in worry at the way your eyes are scrunched up. You shake your head and hold onto his shoulders.

“Just- just wait. You’re so big,” you breathe out, panting as you wait for the stinging sensation to ease up. Namjoon bends over and kisses your shoulder, and you appreciate the gesture, but his movement only causes him to sink further into you. You cry out suddenly, and Namjoon freezes at your pained shriek.

“Angel?” Namjoon asks, and you open your eyes. Namjoon’s heart breaks at the tears pooled in them. Swiftly, he pulls out, and you hiss at the sudden loss of him, abruptly feeling empty.

“I’m sorry. Fuck- I’m so sorry love,” Namjoon apologises as he kisses your shoulders over and over again. You shake your head and give him a watery smile as you pull him in for a tender kiss. It’s incredibly soft, Namjoon’s lips moving languidly against yours as he pours out every apology into it. Breaking away, you press a kiss to his cheeks, where his dimples should be.

“It’s not your fault. It’s just been so long - more than a year and a half - and you’re huge,” you reply. Despite your words, Namjoon pouts, eyes slightly downcast.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers. Your heart clenches at his crestfallen tone. Straining your neck, you press kisses against his cheek.

Suddenly, an idea pops into your mind. With a soft smile, you push Namjoon off of you before flipping yourself over. Namjoon looks at you curiously, allowing you to manoeuvre him until he’s sitting down. His back is pressed against the headboard of his bed, his legs stretched out. Throwing one leg over his thighs, you move until you’re straddling him. Almost on a reflex, Namjoon’s hands shoot out and hold your hips. You can feel his cock against your abdomen, thick, hot, and so incredibly heavy.

“Let me ride you,” you say before pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Namjoon reiterates. Your heart soars as you giggle.

“It’s okay. You won’t. If I’m on top I can at least control the pace,” you reply. Namjoon looks uncertain, but the complete certainty in youreyes has him convinced.

“Okay, fine, but if it’s too much, just tell me and we can stop, okay?” Namjoon says before closing the distance and pressing a kiss against your lips.

“I promise,” you reply, your lips grazing his with each of your words. Flexing your thighs, you kneel over him before pressing your folds against his cock. You both let out a hiss, the heat of your cores melding together. Needing more of the friction, you press the length harder against your folds, letting out a low groan when it parts your nether lips.

You begin grinding your core against him, sliding along the length as you wet him in your arousal. With every movement, the head of Namjoon’s cock brushes against your clit, only serving to turn you on more and further coat him in your arousal. Namjoon’s fingers flex on your hips, gripping them harder as he helps you move over him. His eyes are trained on your face, completely enamoured with the way your eyes flutter into a half-lidded state and your mouth circles into an ‘o’ shape as pleasure grips you. When his cock is practically drenched with your wetness and his shaft becomes slippery, you position your entrance over his head once again.

“Go slow, alright love?” Namjoon reminds you. Your eyes snap open before you roll them at him.

“We’ll be fine- I’ll be fine. Now, hush,” you hiss. Namjoon laughs a bit before nodding. Taking a deep breath, you once again brace yourself as you get ready to sink down on him. You relax the muscles of your core as much as you can before you descend on his length. Once again, you feel the head press against your entrance, almost mercilessly. This time, you’re just a little more prepared - and aided by how wet and slippery you’ve made him - so his bulbous head sinks into you easier. The moment his head pops in, you still and let out a low whimper. Namjoon’s jaw clenches, fingers gripping your hips harder as he holds you still above him.

“Breathe, love,” Namjoon whispers. Despite how incredibly transcendent you feel, he knows it’s been a long while since you’ve had anyone inside you and that you’d need time to adjust. More than that, however, he doesn’t want to hurt you. You nod, panting above him.

With another deep breath, you sink another inch, letting out a soft cry. Namjoon hisses, feeling his cock slowly open your walls around him. You’d been tight around his finger, but now your walls have an almost vice-like grip on his cock. Gathering your courage, you continue sinking further and further down on him, stopping numerous times to let yourself adjust. Long, excruciatingly drawn-out moments later, you finally sink down on him to the hilt of his shaft. Namjoon lowly moans, his head falling back and thumping against the headboard.

“Gods, how are you this big? This is impossible,” you groan out, your throat hoarse, and despite himself, Namjoon laughs. He lifts his head and presses a kiss against your forehead before brushing his nose against yours.

“Sorry, Angel,” Namjoon apologises once again. You both sit completely still. He’s so deep inside you, you can almost feel him in your throat. However, as you both sit completely motionless, feeling each other, you can’t help but bask in the intimacy of it all. You have no idea how long you keep him nestled inside you - it’s as if time has come to a standstill for just the two of you - feeling his length pulsate inside you rhythmically, almost as if you can feel his heartbeat. He stretches you out more than anyone has - or probably could, or would - and his shaft is warm inside you.

In fact, you get so lost in how good he feels inside you, that you completely forget the pain and instead pull him in for a kiss. Namjoon lets out a soft sigh against your lips. Your lips move sluggishly against each other, and Namjoon’s tongue darts out to lick the seam of your lips. Granting him access, you part your mouth and allow his tongue to slip inside and curl around yours. Instinctively, your hands run up the corded muscles of his shoulders before your fingers entangle in the hair at the nape of his neck.

His tongue glides against yours sensually, and though the taste of your cum is heavy on both his lips and tongue, his natural sugary sweetness cuts through the heady taste. It’s completely intoxicating. All of your sensations overwhelm you: your pussy rippling around his throbbing cock, the feel of his tongue against yours, his hands on your back. You feel yourself drowning further and further in him, the naturally sweet taste of him coating your tongue - until you find yourself completely at home, encased in everything that feels, tastes and smells like Namjoon.

Your lungs begin aching for oxygen, but you ignore the slight burn, knowing you have time before you have to pull away. In fact, you just don’t wantto pull away. You want to feel his lips against yours forever; you want to keep him buried inside you so you could wholly feel him forever. Tenderly, sensuously, your tongues move against each other, lips pressing so tightly together it’s almost as if they’re fused together. Your torso falls into his, your soft chest flush against his hard, sculpted one.

Skin against skin, mouth against mouth, and with how deep he’s inside you, you have no idea where Namjoon starts and where you end. Your skin practically melds together until it feels like you are one being - as if you and Namjoon are the only two people in the universe and have eternally fused together as one. Your heart flutters in your ribcage, and you’re completely floored by the sheer amount of emotion that wells up in your chest.

Viciously, the need for oxygen ignites in your chest, and you and Namjoon jerk violently as you break the kiss. Your hands untangle from his hair and move to grip his shoulders. Pressing your forehead against his, you both gasp for air, breaths circling the atmosphere and mingling together until you can practically taste Namjoon in the air. Long gone is the pain of him stretching you open, so far into the back of your mind you can’t even remember it, and you’re only left with the pleasure.

Keeping your eyes locked on his, you flex your thighs and slowly ascend off of him until only his cockhead is nestled in your depth. Namjoon exhales deeply but forces his eyes to stay locked on you as you slowly start riding him. Each and every one of your movements allows you to feel every ridge, every vein, and every inch of his length. You’re sure that after this, the feel of Namjoon’s cock would forever remain engraved into the silken softness of your walls.

Slowly, you begin writhing on top of him, your hips swirling and swivelling on his cock. Every now and then your eyelids flutter, completely taken by the sensual euphoria you feel. You’ve never felt like this before - would probably never feel like this again unless it was Namjoon. Hell, you don’t wantto feel like this with anyone butNamjoon. Your breathing becomes laboured, and Namjoon gently begins thrusting up inside you. His motion hits that sweet spot inside of you, and you can’t help but whimper out his name.

“Gods you’re beautiful,” Namjoon reveres, his hands lightly tracing up your sides before cupping one of your breasts in each hand. You moan under his ministrations, revelling in the way his thumbs reverently graze your nipples, his eyes never leaving yours. You both begin moving more urgently, pleasure overtaking every one of your senses. With your foreheads still pressed against each other, you can feel Namjoon’s lips brush against yours with every moan and groan that slips past them. You swallow thickly, feeling closer to him than you have ever felt before.

Goosebumps prickle at your skin, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand upright. Your stomach twists and turns, the knot forming as you gradually feel yourself approach the precipice. Unable to contain yourself anymore, you freely begin whimpering against Namjoon’s lips. Your hips continue squirming against his, his cock hitting deeper and deeper with every one of Namjoon’s little thrusts inside of you. Your skin begins tingling, nerves prickling with the heat of your incoming orgasm.

It’s almost too much - the pleasure, the emotions, and the loveyou feel. Your heart begins palpitating in your chest, beating so hard and fast that your chest begins to ache and the sound thunders, echoing in your eardrums. Almost as if he senses your emotional turmoil, Namjoon releases your breasts. Large palms slide down your arms before taking your hands between his and lacing the fingers through his. You swallow once again, and your eyes sting as you feel your orgasm approach.

“Namjoon,” you breathlessly whisper in warning. Although, you’re unsure whether you’re warning him about your approaching orgasm or the sheer depth of emotion running amok in your chest.

“I know. I know, my love,” Namjoon whispers softly. They’re simple words, and he can’t possibly know what you feel or how much you’re feeling - but it feels like he can.

Namjoon brings your hands to his lips and, gently, reverentially, presses tender kisses into the pads of your fingers. Your breath hitches, chest crumpling at the attentive action. Then, he releases one of your hands and runs his palm along your side before pushing it between your bodies and to where the two of you are connected. You feel his fingers brush against your clit, sweeping over the nub over and over again. The additional stimulus causes you to cry out. You grip his hand tighter, squeezing it as your eyes screw shut, tears finally welling up in them.

“Namjoon- I-” you begin but fall short. You have no idea what to say or how to express yourself, too caught up in the feeling of everything. It’s all toomuch all at once.

“Shhh. It’s okay Angel. You can cum,” Namjoon coos. He pulls you further into him, his lips brushing against your forehead as he continues toying with your clit.

“Ah. AH- AH! Namjoon!” you finally sob. Your peak hits a crescendo, and your orgasm ricochets through you with more force than you expected. Namjoon groans, feeling your pussy ripple uncontrollably around his cock before tightening. Your walls contract rhythmically, and suddenly, his hips still as he begins cumming.

Rope after rope of Namjoon’s cum slowly fills you. His warmth practically burns inside you, coating your walls white and claiming every single piece of you as his. Your throat closes up with the emotions you feel. Bliss. Euphoria. Contentment. Belonging. Love. Home. Your joint climax, along with the emotion you feel and the way Namjoon’s cum warms your insides, cause your senses to go haywire, and suddenly you’re overloaded with stimulus, and everything becomes far too overwhelming. You jerk your hand away from him and press the heels of your palms into your eyes as you begin sobbing uncontrollably on top of him. His name escapes your lips, over and over again, as if it were a prayer - but more because it’s the onlything your pleasure addled mind could think of.

Through the haze of his own orgasm, Namjoon can feel you call out to him, and when he finally comes to, he’s surprised by the sobbing, overwhelmed form of you on top of him. Despite the way his muscles ache, he reaches out to you and gently gathers you into his arms. Namjoon pulls you into his chest, and you find yourself dwarfed by his body as he holds you in his arms. Gently, Namjoon runs his large hands over your back, head nuzzling into the crook of your neck before lazily pressing kisses along your shoulder. Softly, he coos at you, his voice low and soothing as he talks you down from the overpowering high of your orgasm.

“It’s okay my love. It’s okay. I’ve got you. Come on, Angel. I’ve got you, it’s okay,” Namjoon repeats over and over again as he lavishes your skin with kisses. Gradually, the scent of vanilla and warm amber fills your senses. Somehow, his words manage to break through the haze, and your hands leave your eyes, instead, shooting out and holding him. You grip him tightly, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders as you desperately cling to him. Namjoon turns his head and kisses your temple as he lets you cry into his shoulder.

“Namjoon. Namjoon, I-” ‘I love you’. The words are at the tip of your tongue, but you just can’t seem to get them to form. Namjoon’s face softens. The words are at the tip of his own tongue, but like you, he can’t bring himself to say them. It wasn’t the right time - not yet, at least. He feels it - knowsit with every fibre of his being - knows that you are it for him. You were the only one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, just like he was sure you knew it - yet neither of you can say it. Namjoon accepts that because, eventually, you would say it - just not now. Not when your emotions were already far too overwhelming.

So, instead, “It’s okay. I know. I know. I’ve got you,” is what Namjoon says.

Slowly, he turns you both over before laying you down gently on the bed. Delicately, he eases out of you, only causing you to cry harder against him from the loss of him inside you. Namjoon knows he should get up and grab a cloth to clean you up, but from the way you’re clinging to him, he knows there’s no way he can do that. Instead, he decides that that can wait till the morning. Right now, you need him more than anything.

He shifts so that he can wrap you both in the covers before gathering you back into his embrace. You find comfort in his arms, your cries slowly calming down as Namjoon tenderly rubs your back. Exhaustion grips at every fibre of your being when your cries finally still. Despite this, however, you continue clinging to Namjoon, refusing to leave his arms. You can hear his heartbeat right under your ear, and slowly, you allow the calming rhythm to lull you to sleep. Namjoon listens to your breath as it slowly becomes deeper. Then, with a smile, he pulls you closer and drifts off to sleep himself.

A/N: God I really didn’t mean to just,,,, flex on y’all with that 9k smut goodness but i guess i just,,, fucking DID. also how do y’all CLOWNS feel thinking he’d be DOM and DADDY during their FIRST TIME smh,,,, nO he’s SOFT n GENTLE n SWEET and i fuckING LOVE HIm. anyway, as usual, pls lemme know what you thought of it!!!

[cynthiaandsamus]

Custom Toonami Block Week 70 Rundown

Code Geass: So Lelouch is gonna go join Nunally’s ‘let’s all hold hands and get along’ area but literally no one wants to go after Euphy murdered everyone last time. You’d think there’d be at least one dumbass like “Maybe it won’t be a massacre.” But yeah Zero’s like “Oh well I just happen to have a million people I can give to the zone if you exile me and let me go scott free” and everyone’s like “that’s a super shitty thing to do but okay” so then Zero tells Suzaku that culture is stored in the titty and all the one million people do their I am Spartacus thing and wear Zero’s costume which had to be a logistical nightmare, like Zero’s outfit already is pretty expensive with the fancy clothes and the helmet and shit and some of them are randomly customized even though that defeats the purpose like how do you do this on a terrorist budget in a few days without anyone in the government finding out. Like “we received an order for a million pounds of the thing used in Zero’s helmet on the black market” seems like it’d stand out. But yeah, the million Zeros get away, partially because of the “dogs playing basketball” rule that they’re all Zero because their culture of being Zero is stored in their titty which wouldn’t hold up in court but also because if they just kill a million people who’re just trying to leave that’d be bad for the government, not that they’re not used to genocide and being hated as Imperialists but Suzaku specifically doesn’t want that on his and Nunally’s hands while they’re trying to actually do shit for Japan for once. Feel like there’s probably a good cause for peaceful detainment and not letting them just walk out but it’s not like they’d find Lelouch or whoever the supposed second Zero was anyway even if they strip-searched everyone since he was never there and if it isn’t Lelouch the only thing that makes him Zero sight-wise is the mask.

Inuyasha: So yeah we get the conclusion of Shiori’s story for Inuyasha and I just can’t help thinking about how nice it is that she went on to help a lot of other half-demons in Yashahime because of an act of kindness that Inuyasha showed her right here, really good ripple effect shit. But yeah Shiori gets pissed that her grandpa killed her dad and Kekkaishi YEETs him and his followers out of the barrier so Inuyasha can backlash wave the lot of them. We still got fifteen minutes left though so even after Inuyasha says he’s not going to murder a little girl for a powerup that’ll get power crept in a few seasons, Shiori offers him the blood coral crystal to break to give him the powerup instead as thanks for not fucking murdering her. We can’t have the climax of the episode just be Inuyasha smacking a crystal ball though so Taigokumaru’s spirit yeets itself out of the crystal and fights with Inuyasha and attacks Shiori but her dad makes a barrier to bounce him off of so Inuyasha can kill him a second time and get the Red Tessaiga. There’s some navelgazing about how life as a half demon is rough but how Inuyasha thinks that hardship will be good for Shiori and he’s rooting for her in his own way and in Yashahime we see he’s right and all in all that’s pretty nice. Anyway next time we have the Panther Demon filler arc which is honestly probably one of my favorite filler arcs in Inuyasha so that’ll be fun.

Yu Yu Hakusho: Yusuke continues his fight with Suzaku and Suzaku splits himself into seven, which this doesn’t seem to be the Multi-Form or Shadow Clones deal where it divides his energy, each one seems as strong as the original so that’s just kind of broken. Keiko pulls a bait and switch on the zombies which neither Suzaku nor Yusuke see coming despite watching the whole thing on Spirit TV, guess Suzaku had the camera point at the door instead of on Keiko for some reason even though the point is to make Yusuke watch her die. Anyway Yusuke flashes back to Genkai telling him he’s a little bitch that always doubts himself and splits his energy across multiple plans instead of having the confidence to go for something with everything he has and make it work instead of holding back in case it doesn’t. This and remembering his mom crying over his death and all the relationships he’s formed makes him go Super Saiyan in what I can only describe as a Fully Body Shotgun which I don’t think ever comes up again. He knocks down all the Suzakus but it’s just time to start the real fight since Yusuke’s lifted his limiter again like he does in every fight.

Fate Zero: So the clusterfuck in the middle of Saber and Lancer’s battle continues to grow as Iskandar just fucking dares everyone to come at him and five of the seven servants actually do. Gilgamesh is all like “Ugh, why do I have to do this shit, breathing sucks, I’m a king, someone breathe for me.” And tries to murder everyone with spears and shit but turns out Berserker is Darth Vader this time around and uses the force to steal his stolen weapons until Rin’s dad is all like “Dude you’re showing the whole world our fucking moveset, get the fuck out of there. Which given that Gilgamesh is an archer which are supposed to be independent and he’s a fucking snobby asshole, even with a Command Seal I’m surprised that worked. Also Waver’s racist teacher is all “hah wow, I was supposed to have Rider and the token teenager character stole it from me” and Iskandar’s like “I like this kid that’s ride or die with me even though he cries all the time way more than someone who doesn’t even step onto the battlefield you stuck up prick” and then Lancer and Berserker double-team Saber (giggity) and Lancer’s not happy about it because he was fighting Saber first and doesn’t wanna just jump her with Darth Vader but more Command Seals are thrown around until Iskander runs over Darth Vader with his fucking Lightning Chariot and that’s kind of shitty because Racist Teacher man wasted a Command Seal to have Lancer attack Saber for like five seconds before making him retreat. Bug Dude is also kinda freaked out that Berserker just kinda went for Saber meaning she must be pretty pissed at Saber about something anyway so basically everyone runs away and nothing is really accomplished, we didn’t even really need Kiritsugu’s sniper shit or Assassins’s Ninja Bullshit for this everyone’s just had enough and goes home. Also Caster is a creepy yandere simp for Saber but really who isn’t in this series.

Konosuba: So Aqua’s ready to sit in a lake for a few hours to make some money but for the first time in her live her divine booty is not enough to solve this problem. She gets traumatized by getting attacked by demon alligators and Kazuma and co. are honestly uncharacteristically worried about her and ready to try and help her. Meanwhile generic isekai protagonist has a crush on Aqua despite already having his own harem of bland girls and wants to steal Aqua back but basically the whole group is so totally anti-White Knight they can see right through his shit and turn him down. Kazuma beats him up in the most Kazuma way possible and steals his magic sword, proving that not only is he not doing anything to defeat the devil king but he’s actively sabotaging those that are. Aqua fucking decks the guy and blackmails him so she’s rich now and Kazuma’s rich from selling his OP Isekai Cheat Sword. Also the Dullahan dude is back for revenge about bombing his castle and Kazuma’s like “Wait were we still doing that? Thought we stopped, oh well everyone in this world’s problems are our fault somehow so it sounds about right.”

Sailor Moon Crystal: So this time we get Makoto’s story who’s probably my favorite thus far because her job is punching shit and making sure Usagi doesn’t die from the hundreds of things ready to hit her on a daily basis. I have sort of found a redeeming trait for Usaig in that she’s willing to reach out to anyone and everyone, like she’s not what I would call traditionally ‘nice’ but she is friendly and that ability to pull disparate people together does kind of make more sense for why she’d be the leader rather than the other girls who have useful but more specific talents. But yeah continuing with the trend of things teen girls like trying to destroy the world, haunted bridal shop that also reveals Makoto’s tragic backstory of being a more believable version of Tall Girl. Makoto transforms and beats up the Bride lady with a combination of Zenbonzakura Kageyoshi and Azula’s lightning bending, no fair that she gets two powers but I guess she is the tough one so it make sense. Now we’ve basically got the whole crew except for the one that we already know is active but hasn’t joined the group yet so we’ll see how this goes.

Durarara!!: So Mikado’s in deep shit after stealing the girl away that half the town is looking for, all because he has it hammered into his head that whenever a girl asks for his help he has to give it. There’s a bit of discussion about the nature of the Dollars that I’m sure won’t be important later but both Izaya and Celty show up outside Mikado’s school and he’s kind of in an awkward position since there’s nowhere he can really go but home and lead them to the girl. So he decides to find out about them, or at least Celty, Izaya’s just kinda along for the ride. He gets Celty’s backstory and agrees to take her to the other girl only to get jumped by Yagiri thugs and pull out some Death Note animation internet shit that has even Izaya stunned, Mikado about to actually become the main character of this anime for a bit.

[yeet-imma-skeet]

Great, There’s Sky Everywhere

(Based in @starr-fall-knight-rise 's unique universe. Part 6 of the story)

(Part 1: https://yeet-imma-skeet.tumblr.com/post/613232997621202944/the-sky-is-falling)

"So, Olive... what is it that is so important that you need to tell me in the middle of a lake?"

The head human doctor, Olive as she goes, laid still on her floaty as she eyed around the bio-dome in suspicion. Captain Silva waded near her, shaking droplets of cool water off his peppery hair at her squinting. Both were inside the bio-dome of the strange alien ship along with quite the gaggle of humans and drev exploring within it. Raucous laughter could be heard through the whispering of ruffled leaves. The low rumbling of drev voices and the clanging of weapons echoed from the wide plains as they sparred each other with glee. A few adventurous humans attempted to climb the tall trees and rock formations, only to fail in climbing the plants. Their bronze trunks were strangely smooth with no handholds to grip. The vines that grew from them were the same, though the yellow leaves proved to be sturdy enough to hold their weight somehow. The doctor and captain absentmindedly watched some crewmen climb up the dangling vines like demented ladders. A leaf managed to smack one across the face as she fell down in a heap, rubbing a leaf-shaped mark across her head before she angrily chased her laughing crew mates.

Silva was happy to see them up and about, giggling like children after all that happened. He really wanted there to be nothing else after their ordeal, but the grim look across the doctor's face only concluded his fears.

"The...disease," She started, "I've finally looked over it and the research the AI-ball-thing did and... it’s disturbing."

"More disturbing than the dead zombies?"

"Yes. I've noticed some subtle affects it causes besides pigment changes, uncontrolled strength, and neural decay. It nearly matches the affects caused by the Infected Starborn Incident a while ago."

His heart pounded at the implications, "What?"

"Well, like I said, not exactly the same. Of course we're dealing with an entirely new species unlike ourselves, but the amount of residual brain activity the AI managed to capture before they died showed similar symptoms."

She somehow brought out a tablet as she swiped through it, never mind the fact that she was wearing nothing but a skintight swimsuit, "In the accounts of the Incident, the Starborn Convict described the spikes in brain activity in these logs as the infected humans receiving some sort of communication from somewhere. After that, they went nuts as they were... mentally tortured."

"...Go on."

"The AI's records found the almost exact same reaction in the infected that it scanned. The infected was closing in on its position in the med bay, sort of sluggishly like a fictional zombie would, before they heard the cry of another being taken down by Galia at the time. Their brainwaves spiked in response and so they went into a frenzy. Thankfully, she got there in time to kill them, but it’s a terrifying thought."

Silva bobbed in the water, barely hearing his crewmen's laughter, "We are safe from this, right?"

"The bodies are quarantined in the lab, there’s no sign of potential infection from the disease, and we have made vaccinations in case so we are safe in that aspect..."

He noticed a hesitation, "But?"

"Let's just be happy that we're in space with no chance of meeting a live one. It would very well snap us in half before we could get sick."

—————————

Galia watched as another caldat—er marine, tumbled off the vines like a newly hatched sky dweller. She had to admit, they were remarkably good climbers despite not having claws. Instead of forcibly marring the plants, they would search for existing handholds as they slowly made their way up the trees. A quiet huff made her perk up an arial as she remembered the marine perched beside her on the rock plateau, the very same marine who had crashed his wheeled plank of wood in front of her before. Apparently he did reckless things on the daily, his resilience showing as he climbed everything inside the bio-dome with nary a complaint after falling so many times. He joined her in her people watching, quietly appreciating the view atop the tallest pillar.

Despite their differences, she was reminded of her planetary days when she would perch up high with her fellow Vigils. They were strong, aloof, untouchable to many, and she was one of them. But at the same time, she wasn’t. Her insides did a flip as she remembered those times, always doing something past what should be done. The only thing that kept her sane was the thought of seeing her litter mates again wherever they were.

“Uh, are you okay?”

She glanced over at the sitting marine, noting his concerned look as she tilted her head in confusion.

“Your nails—er claws are kinda...” He motioned towards their perch.

Twelve jagged lines cut through the hard stone leading to her clenched fists. How she missed her own hands grinding down rock unnerved her as she flapped her arials in nervousness. Surely the human would be terrified by the show of strength.

“As cool as that is, are you really okay? You were looking pretty off.”

She gave him an incredulous stare, “I’m fine, but aren’t you... scared?”

“Scared? Of what?”

Galia didn’t know what surprised her more, the fact that the human looked so genuinely unafraid or that he was still insistently asking about her condition. A quiet hum of laughter escaped her as his face changed from confused to weirded out.

“Ah, pardon me.” She curled her tail around her sitting form once again, “Any show of emotion is forbidden for my occupation. Unless it is an order, I should not convey any.”

“Well that sounds like a load of bull.”

“What?”

“I mean, it sounds like a stupid rule. You mean to do that all the time and don’t have any breaks?”

“It is required if I don’t want to be terminated.”

A flash of some unknown emotion crossed his earthy eyes, “Term-Terminated?”

“I am a Vigil, a weapon and shield for my king’s use. If I break or warp, I’ll be tossed away.” Her body seemed to stiffen, “There is no use for a caldat who knows Vigil training yet can’t utilize it to their best ability. Holding any of that knowledge is a threat so it must be controlled.”

A terse silence grew between them as the joyous sounds below did nothing to break it. The marine, in question, felt quite awkward. Like celebrating a birthday next to a funeral home awkward.

A quick idea popped into his head as he though of a way to change the subject, “Wait you guys have a king? Like crown-wearing, sword-wielding, do-as-I-say king?”

Amusement crept into her mind as he swung an imaginary weapon, “We have three who share Farris, our planet. One for each people and place.”

“Each people?”

“Though we are of the same species, we have three variants made for each dwelling on our planet.” She flexed an arial towards the gigantic dome, “The sky, the sea, and the land.”

“Sky... So where we are now? This rock thing and the forest?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re a sky person?”

“The official term is sky dweller and not exactly...”

“Oooooh, so you’re half and half? What’s the other?”

A flicker of anger and confusion reignited itself within her, “I don’t see a reason to tell you.”

His eyes widened as he watched her tufted tail hackle into spikes, “Oh shit, I’m so sorry if I offended you!"

For a moment, he thought that she would deck him flat and that he totally deserved it. His big mouth managed to piss people off for all the wrong reasons so it wouldn’t be the first time he got what he asked for, even if he had no bad intentions. Her golden eye seemed to burn a hole into his head as he kept apologizing. Damn, he just had to piss off the one person who owned the cool spaceship.

“...I am part land dweller.”

His bowed head perked up as the alien’s tail tuft flattened and her head turned towards the expanse of savanna below. He followed her gaze to see some of his crew mates playing a game of tag in the tall grass. The drev stood at the sidelines, sometimes serving as living obstacles to dart around much to their amusement. With a pounce, an engineer managed to tag a marine as she scrambled atop one of them. The drev took one look at the determined tagger, and before they could react, had two humans dangling from their body as they ducked and weaved around.

A question snapped the marine out of his observation, “What do you call that game? It looks similar to one we have.”

“Tag. Where one person is ‘it’ and they have to touch another person to make them ‘it’ and it continues from there. It can get pretty intense.”

“Hm.” Her tail flicked back and forth, “You humans are okay land dwellers, but we can be much faster.”

Sensing a challenge he grinned, “Oh yeah? Care to demonstrate?”

“If it will keep you from asking too much next time.”

He sheepishly nodded as she stood to her haunches, stretching a lithe leg behind her. The marine's eyes widened even more at the full length of the leg that almost reached his height. With little hesitation, the white alien began to skid down the cliff, leaving a trail of cuts down the side. By the time he scrabbled down to join her, the small gathering of his crew mates ended their game with gasping breaths, watching her stroll by in curiousity.

She crossed her arms, a new intimidation tactic she picked up from the humans, "Who's the best sprinter out of all of you?"

The panting humans and bystanding drev all pointed to the last human that was 'it'. Galia had been watching them and knew that this man had been 'it' a lot less than the rest as he ran literal circles around the others. The strangely bald, lanky, and dark skinned man straightened his back at the guard's scrutiny, exuting a challenging puff of air. Knocking him down a peg would probably make her feel a lot better.

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

If You Give a Cat A Bone(doggle) || Morgan and Kaden

TIMING: Before Constance was yeeted forever LOCATION: The woods PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Morgan and Kaden take Anya the cat for a walk and make friends. Sort of. 

Walking cats always looked kind of funny compared to dogs. Probably because most didn’t put up with it long enough to bother. There was something charming about it, though. And there was something nice and grounding about walking with Morgan and Anya around the East End. Especially on a Sunday. Kaden was sure Abel would be jealous that he didn’t get to come but he had a feeling Anya wouldn’t love his dog as much as his dog would love the cat. “I’m still impressed you got her leash trained,” Kaden told his friend as they walked. There were so many topics he just didn’t want to touch. Not right now at least, not in public. Distractions were better anyway. Like she was deciding to test his compliment, Anya started pulling on the leash, darting after something in the distance, probably a rodent of some sort, maybe a lagomorph. “She might be worse at walking but she’s definitely better at hunting than Abel.”

Morgan laughed dry in her chest. “Oh, this is all Anya’s spirit doing the work,” she said. “You should see her when she actually--” Likes me, is what she was going to say. Because it was almost eight months since she’d been impaled by the side of the road and Anya still, at best, only tolerated her presence. At this point, she was more Deirdre’s companion than Morgan’s, perching on the banshee’s lap, trailing behind her when she went to any of the rooms in the house, and glaring at anyone who she thought infringed upon her time with her. Granted, Anya no longer attacked or hissed at Morgan whenever she walked into the room. Sometimes she would sit in such a way that her paws touched Morgan’s leg while the rest of her lounged against Deirdre, and Morgan would press back just a little so she could feel her leathery toe beans just a little better and feel so fucking grateful. It was hard not to be bitter at such a small allowance of affection when Morgan used to be the one she clung to and protected.

It wasn’t much of a surprise when the cat bolted out of her grip.

Morgan swore and took chase. “She’s good when she’s not permanently pissed off I died,” she grumbled. “Anya! Anya!” Stupid cat. If Morgan was still a witch, she could borrow her eyes and see where the hell she was running off to, but no. That would be too easy. “Help me look?” She called.

Kaden would, she knew, but it never hurt to ask.

They followed Anya’s trail away from the park and near the woods that surrounded Strawford. She wasn’t exactly being subtle, just a little shit. A hiss rattled through the air. “Someone’s pissy,” she said, unimpressed. Maybe her prize squirrel had climbed too high up a tree, maybe she’d got herself stuck on something, and-- “Oh, shit.” Or maybe she had decided to pick a fight with a bone critter Morgan had never seen before.

Kaden saw the leash slipping from her grip and lunged to grab it before the cat could bolt off, but it was too late. Goddamnit. “Putain de merde,” he grumbled to himself. Of course he was chasing a cat. On his day off, too. He took off after the cat before saying another word, he didn’t even look to check if Morgan was running with him or not. “What do you think I’m doing?” he shouted back at her. “And what do you mean pissed off that you died? She’s--” That was stupid. He knew damn well animals had personality and opinions. That wasn’t his question. His real question was why were they walking the disagreeable cat? Catching cats was a pain in the ass. Catching disagreeable cats was something close to hell. Thankfully, she was easy enough to follow, probably because the leash was slowing her down. Not enough for him to grab it, unfortunately.

His arm shot out in front of Morgan to hold her back. He didn’t even hear the hiss, didn’t see the cat’s hairs stand on edge. What he did see was the fucking bonedoggle across from them, growling at the cat. Shit. Fucking shit. Anya had a squirrel and was swatting at the bonedoggle to stay away. He pulled out a knife and slowly crept towards the monster. He just had to get between the cat and the creature. “Get Anya,” he said to the zombie sharply. He threw himself at the monster, hoping he could distract it from the bones. Easier said than done.

“Well if you had a magic connection with someone and they broke it one day and turned up smelling wrong, you’d probably be pissed too,” Morgan huffed. “She was my familiar, Kaden.” As much as she hated losing the one best friend she’d assumed she could count on in her death, Morgan got it. There wasn’t an abundance of hard theory on familiar connections, but her tie to Anya had been at least somewhat emotional as well as metaphysical. Which meant whatever it really felt like when she died, Anya suffered something like it too. And if losing a magic connection was anything like losing magic itself… yeah, might as well blame the lady dumb enough to fuck it up and come back different. Not like they could talk it out.

She didn’t understand Kaden’s plan to divide and conquer. On the one hand, the critter looked pretty angry, on the other hand, it was kind of...a dog? A maybe-demon dog? Couldn’t they tackle it together, maybe take some bones back as souvenirs?

She should have listened. Kaden lunged to wrestle the creature and Anya saw a chance to assert her dominance. She lunged, faster than Morgan could catch her, and scrabbled her claws around the creature’s side, trying to tear into it. Morgan ran to pull her off but the creature, still wrestling with Kaden, thrashed. The black cat yowled. “Anya!” The cat flew off, claws flexed, and crashed into Morgan, who bundled her up in her arms. “Why are you such a stupid, stubborn cat?” She whispered. Anya flailed, still ready to fight for her pride. Whatever this critter was, they needed to get rid of it. Morgan jumped to her feet and put her body between Anya and the demon-bone-dog. “How do we make that thing go away?” She asked.

Kaden didn’t know shit about magic and familiars, not really. He knew what they were, sure, but not on the deep level that the former witch did. He’d never really understand. But the plan was clear enough. Didn’t matter right now. He might not understand shit about magic, but he understood bonedoggles. And how fucked they were right about now. Before Kaden had much chance to try and find a clean spot to shove his knife through the creature, the cat had lunged at it. “No!” he shouted. Fucking hell. He didn’t need the cat getting stuck to the goodman monster. Instead of attacking, he reached out for the flailing cat and caught a lot of claws. The bonedoggle wasn’t interested in engaging with the humans, it lunged out, teeth bared and snarling at the carcass in question. There was nothing going to get in the way of the monster and its bones, not even a hunter. It barreled into him and knocked him to his knees. Kaden cursed, but lashed out with the knife as the monster darted past him. All he managed was to scrape the blade across the bone armor covering the creature.

Kaden saw the monster unhinge its jaw, ready to bring its teeth down and around Anya's sides. His eyes went wide, he didn’t wait for Morgan to step in, he just threw himself into the monster’s side, pushing it aside. And he felt his shirt get stuck to the fucking side of the monster. Shit, shit, shit. He pulled his arm back, his shirt tearing away at the sleeve. The bonedoggle turned and faced him, growling, spit spewing and ready to tear into the hunter, possibly take his bones for its collection. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he had to get away and he couldn’t count on his knife right now. His palm dug into the dirt beneath him. Dirt. He took a handful and threw it at the monster’s face, temporarily blinding it. Kaden scrambled to his feet and back to Morgan. “Killing it might help!” Anya seemed to agree, the cat was doing everything in its power to claw the bonedoggle’s eyes out. “Its spit is like fucking glue so don’t let--” The fucking cat was getting near the goddamn monster again. Putain.

“Like GLUE?” Morgan shrieked. There was no time to process; the bone monster was already thrashing its head, trying to throw Anya off. “Shit, shit, shit…” She dove for the creature, clinging to it with all she had. Her legs were too short to reach all the way around something that big, but she dug in with her thighs and clamped her arms around its snout, forcing its jaw shut. Anya’s eyes met hers, steady and inquisitive. What are you doing? Morgan couldn’t tell if she was judging her or not, but she clenched her muscles around the creature’s jaw harder. “Anya, off!” She barked.

Anya glared. She tore her paw across the creature’s face, cracking one of the bones at last and leapt off, making a dive for her decayed squirrel corpse and running into the bushes with it.

“So, about killing it?” Morgan cried. She couldn’t see Kaden from here. The creature was bucking and thrashing harder than ever and she didn’t want to know what would happen if it slobbered on her hand. “There’s not a chance we can just play fetch with this guy and make a run for it is there?” The creature grunted and smacked onto the ground, trying to throw her off next. Morgan grunted as her bones bent into her organs. “Maybe you should just do your thing! Before my bones liquify!”

“Once a bonedoggle is after a bone, it doesn’t like to just fucking drop it,” Kaden said, about to throw himself at the monster. Didn’t get a fucking chance, Morgan was already there. Okay, he just had to find an opening, a weak spot. Take it down. “And I think the same fucking thing can be said for your cat.” It was possible she was a more tenacious hunter than his dog. The one he got to help him hunt. Putain de merde. “Hold on a little longer!” he shouted. It was handy that Morgan was damn near indestructible. Almost. Still not quite. He didn’t want to risk her life for too long; even zombie bodies hit a breaking point. He didn’t want the bonedoggle to find it. He wasn’t sure he could handle that. Still, it looked like she had a pretty damn good handle on the monster. Hell, it was impressive and of itself.

Right, Kaden didn’t have time to appreciate her hunting methods. He flipped his knife over in his hands and threw himself towards the creature as it rolled on the ground. His knees dug into the monster’s back legs, pinning it in place. She just needed to hold onto its muzzle one second longer. His knife plunged down into the creature’s exposed belly, tearing through and ripping open its guts. Death would come soon. But not fast enough. The bonedoggle’s face broke free from the zombie’s grip and saliva went flying. Kaden’s arm shot up to shield his face, ducking away and shutting his eyes tight. Putain de fucking merde.

Morgan crashed to the ground flat on her face. She could hear the critter snarling and slobbering as it died. She curled up on herself as much as she could, ignoring the terrible angle of the arms she’d landed on. Then it was quiet, and Morgan couldn’t move her fingers as she struggled to sit up. Most of the critter’s saliva landed on her sweater, but enough had fallen on her fingers to clump them together. She picked herself up, wincing as her bones righted themselves, and pulled off her sweater before anything else could turn sticky. “Are you okay?” She called to Kaden. “I could use that knife of yours, if you’re in one piece.” She held out her stuck, scrunched up hand. “You don’t have to watch them grow back, I’d just really like to be able to use them again.” She looked around the underbrush and saw Anya’s bright eyes peeking out, her squirrel clutched in her mouth by its neck. She padded out and sat in front of Morgan sniffing her with care before brushing her head against her knee. “This is all your fault, you know,” she said, but there was no malice in her voice. She hadn’t seen the sly smile of her cat’s mouth in profile in so long, she almost didn’t mind all the trouble it had cost. “Thank you,” she said to Kaden again. “You saved me and my favorite brat.”

“I’m alright,” Kaden said before even properly assessing the situation. He checked and found out the folds of his shirt was glued to his jacket. He sighed. “My clothing, not so much.” He should stop getting attached to any article of clothing. He should know better. But he’d liked this shirt. Oh well. Kaden had just watched her bones twist and her body catort into positions no standard body should. Even then, he tilted his head and furrowed his brow at her ask for his knife. “Are you going to cut in between your skin? That’s not--” Then it hit him that she’d be just fine. She’d regenerate. “Right,” he said and handed over the knife. He didn’t really want to watch but he supposed it didn’t really matter and watched anyway. She’d said something before about her body being a fact and she had a point. He should probably just treat it that way. As hard as it was to just accept the wings at first, it would have been a hell of a lot easier if he’d accepted Bea’s advice to treat them as a fact. The problem was, of course, that those facts clashed with so many lessons taught to him as fact growing up; lessons he still hadn’t properly reconciled. He wasn’t sure he’d ever manage to.

Seeing her reunited with her cat brought a smile to Kaden’s face. It made it easy to forget the regrown fingers and the bonedoggle carcass piled a few feet away. “Don’t mention it,” he said, reaching out to see if Anya would let him pet her. No offense either way, cats could be particular. “Just doing my job.” It was the reason he really did like working in animal control, moments like this, when people and animals could be safe and sound even if it didn’t last.

Morgan gave Kaden a double take to make sure he really wasn’t going to look away. She wrinkled her face up in a universal signal of ‘are you sure?’ before bringing the blade down as quickly as she could. She winced and looked away as her old fingers tumbled into the grass. She was getting used to the regrowth by now, but watching pieces of her fall away, useless, no longer a part of anything or anyone. She whimpered with pain and watched as new bones sprouted and coated with sninew and blood. Morgan flexed them, testing her grip and her nerves. They always felt the same, no farther or closer to living sensations than before.

Anya sniffed the new fingers and scraped her mouth across them, tail upright and perky. If anything from the past few minutes had bothered her, it didn’t anymore. Curious, she moved onto Kaden, giving him a once over and a long, steady look before she decided he was good enough for one pet across her fur.

“Just doing your job, huh, cowboy? Do you say that to all the damsels in distress you rescue?” Morgan laughed and guided Anya back into her lap, fixing her harness and leash. “If you come back round to the ranch, I’m sure I can rustle you up some pie to show my gratitude.” She put on her best Texas drawl for him and got to her feet, Anya now safely in tow with her prize. To Morgan’s surprise, she rubbed against her leg and looked up with an expression that was almost friendly.

Kaden didn’t want to gawk at the oddities of her body as it was and he flinched a little as he watched, but he had decided not to look away. And so he didn’t. It was the only way to deal with it. Not unlike pain. The more you were exposed to it, the easier it was to handle. Training taught him that much. Probably not how his mother would prefer he applied his training. Too fucking late. She was more than dead and buried now. She didn’t even exist. Right. He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse to keep his eyes on her newly grown fingers or the dead ones that the cat was planning to chew on.

“How, uh, how does pain work? For you?” Kaden asked, before quickly second guessing himself. “I mean. If you don’t mind me asking. I just. I-- I mean, I saw you now and you--- I just was curious.” He rubbed the back of his neck and felt like a fucking asshole. Like he was being insensitive or something. “You don’t have to answer that. Sorry. That was stupid. You--” He couldn’t even finish his thought and just took the knife back and wiped it clean on the grass and then the hem of his shirt before putting it away. At least he got to pet the cat. It wasn’t long or much (he expected nothing more, to be honest), but it still was enough to bring his heart rate back slower, steadier.

“Very funny,” Kaden answered, rolling his eyes. Wouldn’t lie, he appreciated the brief moment of levity. The weight was still there, but it was a little lighter. “Normally I only do one or the other. Rescue the cat or fight the monster. This was a great two for one deal. I think that earned me two pies.” Not that he needed any more baked goods in his apartment. It was more than enough work to give them all away half the time.

“It’s different,” Morgan said. “I mean, that hurt, and I’ve always been an awful cry-baby. My mother always said so. But it’s not, uh, proportionate, to the way humans would reckon it. And I don’t get to feel anything too gentle, so sometimes, in the right context, a little hurt can feel nice. I guess if I had to rank it, that’s something like a four or a five? But for you, losing an extremity would be a lot closer to ten, right?” She shrugged and wiped the corners of her eyes. “It’s okay, Kaden. I’d rather you ask than wonder or lean on whatever’s in your hunting manuals, if that’s even a thing.”

Morgan’s expression grew warmer. “Well I declare, officer! I think you might be right. But only ‘cause you’re such a good friend. I’ve got mama’s pecan pie on the stove right now, and I’ll let the second one be hero’s choice.” She laughed and beckoned him over. She hadn’t expected much out of the day, but for an outing that involved full-ass monster wrestling, this was pretty okay.

“Right. Good, uh, I mean thanks. For, you know.” Kaden said, nodding along as he listened. It was a far cry from “zombies are dead, they can’t feel anything.” Part of him anticipated that much by now though a piece of him still felt the chill of the shadow of his training. It wasn’t all entirely wrong, just sometimes taken too extreme. Sometimes not. Finding where the line was wouldn’t be an easy one, not from what he could tell. If he even wanted to redraw the line. It was possible he was still surrounded by exceptions. Only time would tell. “Pain’s sort of on a weird scale for me. Not, uh… I mean not like yours. I don’t think. But you know. Hunter. Training. That.” He wiped the dirt and grime he could away from his jacket and jeans. “I don’t know if I’d know a ten when it happened. Or ever call it that.” Most of him had stopped trying to sort the good and bad of his training and just accept it for what it was.Sometimes he wondered all the same.

“Is this where I say ‘no need, little lady’? Or something to that effect?” His attempts at mimicking her current accent didn’t quite sound right. Even he knew that. He laughed at himself a little. Only a little. “Anyway, I think it’s probably a good idea to get home before any more bonedoggles show up. And so Anya can’t make another break for it.”

[knightofthesevenfandoms]

Bureaucracy Pop Vinyl Tutorial!

Most of the things I learned about customizing pops I learned from @bringthekaos. She started customizing them 2 years ago when she made these two precious babies.

So really, all credit goes to her for figuring this shit out on her own lol.

Alrighty! Step one! Find pops that look fairly close to the shape you want. Clothing, hair, etc. For Gabe I was able to just use one pop and paint over everything. I used a Michael Scott pop from The Office because I loved the "World's Best Boss" mug he was holding and thought it would be hilarious for Gabriel.

So he was pretty simple. I mixed my own acrylic paint colors to get the right shade of grey for his suit, and the lavender color for his tie. His hair was a little more difficult, because Hamm's hair seems dark brown with some silver mixed in? So I did a kind of dark grey-brown color for the base and then dry brushed a little light grey on top (dry brush meaning coat your brush with the light grey color, and wipe most of it off so you get a really subtle look.) I painted his shoes brown first and then watered down some metallic gold to paint on top of that (of course with red soles because Jon Hamm wears Louboutins because he's a fancy bitch). Then paint those lovely purple orbs and you're DONE!

Bee was a little more difficult. Couldn't find one pop that had the right clothing and hair style, so I used two different pops. One for the head, one for the body. For the head I used Major from Ghost in the Shell, cuz I liked her hair and angry eyebrows haha.

It's pretty simple to remove a pop vinyl's head. Just boil a pot of water (deep enough to submerge the head without the plastic touching the bottom of the pan, cuz the plastic could melt). This particular pop is not hollow like most, it is solid plastic, so unfortunately you can't just pop the head off. You have to hold it in the water for about 20-30 seconds, so the plastic is softened, then use an exacto knife to cut the neck, as close as you can to the head. Then all you have to do is paint the hair (Major has a little blue ombre, so just paint over that with black acrylic) and make the fly. As a cosplayer, I have Worbla sitting around my house. (It's a thermoplastic you heat up with a heat gun, and once it's malleable you can basically shape it like clay, then it dries and re-hardens in a matter of minutes.) I've heard you can also use Sculpey clay, but I've never worked with it before. The great thing about Worbla is it bonds to itself EXTREMELY well, and also to other plastics. So I didn't even have to glue it to Bee's head, just warm up the bottom with the heat gun, hold it onto the head where I want it, and it will never break off. Ever. I could yeet this pop vinyl and that fly ain't going anywhere.

Now to the body. I used the Twelfth Doctor, because his coat had the look of Bee's morning coat. I also liked the idea of using a female pop vinyl for the head and a male one for the body.

WHAT IS GENDER.

Anywho.

This is what the body looked like before.

Again, I boiled the head (this one you can just wrestle it off the body, because it is hollow). You'll have to trim the neck a bit with the exacto knife to be able to attach it to the head later. I also held the body in the boiling water (probably best to do this before removing the head so you have something to hold on to while the body is in the hot water) and then cut the sonic screwdriver out of his hand, as close to the hand as possible. Now the real work begins.

PAINT EVERYTHING. Bee's tiny details almost broke me (the regalia, the crown lapel pins, the net/chain waistcoat, the sash, the pinstripe pants, THE FISHNETS. How dare that demon have the AUDACITY to wear ****ing fishnets grumble grumble grumble)

In short, buy the tinyest itsy-bitsy detail brushes you can find, and sacrifice a goat to Satan so your hand will be steady enough and you will have the GD sanity to paint those stupid details.

(Photo taken before the fishnet socks were painted on because I was about to rage quit lol)

Now instead of glueing the head onto the body (which you could definitely do, I'd suggest super glue or E6000) I once again used Worbla, because I wanted the strongest bond possible (especially since these are a gift and will be shipped across the globe lol).

So instead of glue, I just warmed up a tiny dot of Worbla and used that to fuse the neck to the head.

You can spray them with matte Mod Podge, as a sealant, and then YOU'RE DONE!

(Now if you're wondering what happens to the spare pop vinyl parts, like Major's body and the Doctor's head... yes, we do indeed have a drawer in our craft supplies of spare body parts.)

*Laughs in Frankenstein*

[undertalethingies]

Save Me From Myself

This is a continuation of Don’t Forget Me (Please)

Also, the idea for this comes from this post.

Sans has always been determined. How could he be anything else, to be what he is and do what he does?

If he were anything else, even the smallest iota less secretly stubbornly willful, he would have broken long ago, would have shattered to pieces under the strain of the duty he places on himself.

From the outside, he doesn’t give off the impression that he’d do anything, go against time itself for those he loves. From the outside, he doesn’t give the impression that he cares at all.

In the end, though, his actions will always speak for the truth of him where his words refuse to.

--

A twelve year old Sans sits on the edge of a cliff, kicking his legs back and forth over the steep drop.

The forest continues, so far down below. He can see a small cottage, lit up by some unknown occupant within.

He wonders, silent, what would happen if he jumped. Would he land on a tree, the sharp points of the branches ripping his fragile body to pieces? Would he fall into the snow, his dust mixing with the snow until it became impossible to tell which is which?

What would the world look like, without him? He doesn’t have any parents to miss him if he were gone, doesn’t have any family really, aside from his brother.

And Papyrus would move on in the end, he knows. His brother has always been resilient, has always had something unbreaking at his core, for all his bluster.

What would the world look like without him?

He doesn’t really have any friends. He has associates, acquaintances, but no one in his life he lets close enough to call a friend. He doesn’t have any important contributions to the world, doesn’t have any great accomplishments.

He’s just some kid with low health and more magic than he knows what to do with, in the end.

If he jumped now, what difference would it even make, in the end?

...Well, there is one thing. Just one thing for the world that only Sans can and will provide. The encounter was months ago, now, but he can’t very well forget it.

Without Sans, there’s no one to tell Sienna’s mom that she’s dead, if monsters ever reach the surface. No one down here to remember that soul in a jar as a person with thoughts and feelings.

It’s small, but he promised her. He said he’d remember.

And it’s not like he really wants to kill himself, in the end. No matter the exhaustion and dissatisfaction he feels with his daily life, no matter that he can’t see any light at the end of the tunnel, there’s still a whole world, a whole wealth of knowledge and beauty and despite how tiring it is to exist, he wants to see it.

He wants to see tomorrow, not because he thinks it’ll be any brighter, but because he can’t experience everything the world has to offer today.

It’s this thought that’s still in his mind when the snow beneath him shifts, and he slides right off the edge of the cliff.

It’s the thought that damn it, he isn’t done yet that follows him down the side with the small avalanche.

It’s the complete and utter refusal to die here and now that he holds tight as the tip of a tree impales his ribcage, his body being prised apart by the force of gravity and the surprisingly effective wedge that is the branch beside his sternum.

His last thought as he turns to dust is that he refuses to let it end like this.

--

Sans comes to with a start, dropping back into awareness suddenly enough that he’d gasp, if he had lungs.

He almost falls off the bench, but he manages to grasp the back in time to stay on.

His head feels like it’s been stuffed with dynamite and blown to bits, and he struggles to remember the events that just transpired.

He’d been… talking with that human, right? Sienna? The one who was probably going to die?

...Something about that “probably” feels wrong. He presses a hand to his face, harshly digging his fingers into his skull, hoping the discomfort will clear his mind a bit.

He could swear he’d been in Snowdin a moment ago, but it made no sense. Sienna had only left an hour or so ago. And he knew he’d spent that time thinking, so why did he remember being in Snowdin too?

He presses a hand to his ribcage, just beside his sternum, without conscious thought.

The cloth is perfect and whole.

...Sans is perfect and whole.

The memories of the past three months come back in a rush, and this time he does fall off the bench.

Has he gone back in time? Is that even possible?

Without bothering to get off of the ground, he props a hand under his chin. What are the possibilities here? 

Because while suddenly finding himself back on the bench he hasn’t visited in three months and having difficulty remembering what’s happened since for a few moments is extremely odd, jumping straight to time travel is more than a bit of a logical leap.

First things first: He remembers being impaled and turning to dust, and if he accepts hallucination as a possibility here he’s going to drive himself insane.

...Which kind of does rule out anything other than time travel, actually. Huh.

Ok, so how far back is he? Is he back to just a few moments before his unfortunate tumble, or the whole three months?

Thankfully, this is easy enough to test. He just has to go to somewhere populous and see if there are any monsters around, since there was a lockdown while Sienna was underground.

He teleports to Snowdin, because if someone sees him there they won’t know him to think it’s anything but some reckless teenager.

Looking around, the only footprints in the snow are his own. The shop and inn are closed, doors locked, and he can see the bar is locked up as well.

He teleports back to the bench and considers his next move.

He’s three months in the past. Nothing in particular has happened, since Sienna’s romp through the underground, so it’s not like he has any disasters to prevent or anything. (Aside from that time he told a waiter to enjoy their meal, of course)

It’s odd, he supposes, being in this situation. He’s now in a position to undo all the blunders he’d made last time, but he’s not far enough back for there to really be anything he wants to change.

Actually, that raises another question. If he’s gone back once, can he do it again? He’s not going to kill himself to test, obviously. That would probably be a bad idea, but he remembers that desperate determined feeling he’d had as he fell, and wonders if he could replicate it.

He tries as hard as he can to summon every bit of will he possesses, focusing it all on the desire to go back, to start again.

To reset.

His determination rises to a crescendo, his magic howling, and the world goes dark for a moment…

And he’s once again sitting on the bench, thankfully sans the confusion, the second time around.

Woo! Science, baby!

What’s he going to do now? Obviously this is powerful, this ability to turn time itself to his whims, so what great deeds will he undertake, now that he apparently never needs to worry about failure again?

...Holy shit. 

Sans has thought of an amazing idea, one that will change the world as he knows it, irreversibly altering the status quo even more so than this revelation has already shattered it.

This is going to change everything.

Sans pulls a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, unfolding it to reveal a series of half finished math equations.

He walks to the river a few feet from where he’s sitting and yeets it in, because with this power…

Sans is never going to have to do homework ever again.

Also, he’s going to read every book in the underground and no one can stop him.

[cassatine]

TROS rambles under cut. Spoilers ahead.

There’s a lot I didn’t particularly like in TROS, but I expected that, so I’m mostly disappointed by the execution. It feels extremely messy, stuffed full of things supposed to please the audience but without that much thought given to the overall effect or the underlying message.

It’s small things like a cute new droid whose function in the narrative is to deliver one hint for the high-stakes treasure hunt, and also be cute and sell merch. At least the droid has a function; I’m still wondering why the giant slug on the Falcon at the beginning of the movie. Isn’t the cast big enough. Aren’t there enough new characters as is. Did we need the slug. I’m aware it sounds like nitpicking, it’s just that I feel it’s representative of the film making unnecessary detours for cool factor while moving at breakneck speed, which makes the whole story suffer.

But there’s other, bigger things. Leia’s training, her having a saber, even if she put it down – it was such a big deal that Luke was the Last Jedi, the only one who could train Rey, and although we’ve seen Leia use the Force, there was absolutely nothing in the previous two movies to let us think she’d trained under Luke. I feel the main reason Leia has a saber is simply the need to replace the one yeeted by Ben so that he’d have a weapon in the final fight, and having another family saber handed to Rey was yet another way to confirm Rey as the chosen heir of the Jedi and the Skywalkers, something TROS really tried to hammer in imo; Leia’s saber and training, the pep talk with Force Ghost Luke (who doesn’t have anything to say to his nephew), everything about how the Jedi live in her in the final fight, plus the voices of Anakin, Obi-Wan, etc (who, like Luke, don’t have anything to say to Kylo/Ben), and the Force Ghosts of Luke and Leia appearing to her at the end. They didn’t do that when their nephew and son died. I don’t really mind that Rey takes the Skywalker name, because I’m not big on the blood lineage fixation to start with, and the film doesn’t make her reasons explicit so I can find a way to make it work for me, but it’s the culmination of the pattern framing her as the one heir.

Even her ending up in Luke’s childhood home fits within it, but I have other issues with her ending up alone on Tatooine; mainly what the fuck am I supposed to do with it? Like if there was something about how she was, idk, starting a Jedi school AT LEAST that’d make sense for the story I think Abrams is trying to tell because right now… how are the Jedi not going to end if she’s basically in exile?? Wasn’t it such a big deal to see the Jedi continue? How did we end up pretty much back to square one, with the last of the Jedi self-exiled on an out-of-the-way planet for not-so-clear reasons? For that matter, how is Rey choosing exile in the grand tradition of Jedi who failed – Obi-Wan, Yoda, and later Luke – supposed to be read? We’re given no insight in what goes on in her head after Exegol; her reaction to Ben’s death I’m 100% certain is meant to be heartbreaking, and it’s filmed that way. But after that she’s just… it’s not clear *what* she is, because there’s some happiness on her part, yes, but it’s part of the over-the-top ROTJ-like happiness expressed by all the Resistance peeps at the end, like they’re all so glad the Empire, First and Final Order are gone that they’re high on it. But as far as characterization goes it’s hard to say whether Rey’s going through the motions, if she’s sad but content that at least Ben turned or smthg, or if she’s totally fine and dandy. There’s nothing about why she choses to go to Tatooine, why she chooses to use the Skywalker name, why she buries the sabers, or how the fuck she feels about anything. I don’t think everything in an ending needs to be made explicit and explained in details, but it all kinda feels like a cop-out.

Speaking of cop-outs, I could mention The Pit, but also... I know a lot of people wanted Finn to have the Force; I’ve always been on the fence, because I feared his having the Force would end up being the reason he defected, and I didn’t want that decision to boil down to the magic force field told him so. Well, he had A Feeling, which implies he’s Force sensitive at least? Him and a whole other bunch of ex-troopers? I don’t know what to make of this. I mean, sure, the FO indoctrinates kids, but apparently once the Force gives them A Feeling they just break out of it? But also, how much does the Force meddles in events, because it kind of feels like those Feelings are moving people to where they need to be for Plot to happen (Leia’s saber premonition doesn’t really help the thus it was written vibe).  

Neither Finn nor Poe had any personal arc to speak of; they don’t grow or learn or do shit beyond being Rey’s sidekicks on her speedrun to the big boss (literally it’s a treasure hunt to open the final dungeon and beat the big boss; that’s it that the plot). They do Cool Action Stuff, and once Leia dies become Generals in her stead, which has about zero impact on anything. Poe’s revealed to be a spice smuggler because I guess a real Star Wars trio™ needs an ex-spice smuggler, just like a real Star WarsTM needs training scenes and a family reveal and a planet-destroying weapon (not spherical this time woohoo) and some Palpatine sprinkled on top. The trio’s interactions were… Idk what’s going on there. Sure there’s lots of banter and one-liners, but it left me with the impression that the film tried to have something for every ship (minus, very glaringly, Finnrose) – Finn seems to be trying to declare something to Rey, which seems to piss off Poe, but it’s hard to say if it’s because Poe’s into Rey as well, or into Finn, who also seems to be into Poe, but less than into Rey. And then there’s almost no interaction between Finn and Rose, who’s side-lined for the whole fucking movie, but there’s Jannah, who has either shippy or sibling vibes with Finn, I have no idea honestly, and Zorii, because I guess every ex-spice smuggler needs a Leia analogue.

Speaking of Leia, I have more to be displeased about – her death was fucking underwhelming, and not given much impact. Having Kylo/Ben haunted by Han (Ghost? Memory? Hallucination?), while not something I dislike in itself – Han had his big moment in TFA, and here he completely overshadows Leia’s. She doesn’t even get to have actual dialogue with Kylo/Ben, and the yeeting his saber should have happened after Leia reached him imo; switching that would have given a lot more impact to her death. The dialogue with Han doesn’t even need to change, but if Leia had contacted Kylo/Ben after the “I know what I have to do” repeat, it’d have been a more effective scene (and again, Han already had his big moment in TFA). The aftermath wasn’t particularly well-done either; characters are sad she died, of course, but it’s like perfunctory five minutes sadness and then she’s barely mentioned again, and her body just lies there in the background of some scenes while people talk.

I’m running out of steam, so in conclusion –

TROS I think mostly fails because it takes no risks; it’s trying to have something in it for everyone, and goes about it messily, without that much care for the big picture, which is how it ends pretending to have a happy end when we’ve just seen the final act of three generations of Skywalker tragedy. It doesn’t commit to anything, excepted leaving room for fun trio adventures sequels, because if there’s one thing we know, it’s that self-exiled Jedi are always found by some bright-eyed tentative student, if not a call for help from old friends.

[l1ana]

Imagine being able to hold Thors' hammer

Summary: Yeet, idfk I'm in a car thinking this up so yEAH—

———

You were the main one to usually tidy up after the messes that the rest of the avengers made in the tower; that included repairing destroyed parts of it. After all, it was the least you could do to repay Tony for letting you in as one of the family. Unfortunately, being let into the family also meant being the main target for idiot or cruel pranks cast upon you by the rest of the team. It was hard to get used to at first, but you eventually made way to accept that everyone were just as goofy and carefree on the inside as they were on the outside— They never meant you any harm.

Today was no different. Long story short: some idiot tried to attack the tower, lots of collateral damage to the tower, you going to clean up the tower. “[Name], you know I have money for a reason, right?” Tony asked, walking underneath the ladder you stood on with a coffee mug in hand. “Yeah but fixing things is my specialty. Consider it a second hobby besides helping you guys kick the shit out of bad guys.” “Language.” Steve groaned, relaxing into the couch. A smirk graced your face. “Figured you'd say that.” Tony took a seat at the dining room table.

“That guy was... Tough.” Clint exhaled an aggravated sigh. “Yeah, tell me about it.” Natasha added. “Are you all okay? I can fix you some cup of tea if you'd like.” You said, waving your hand upwards to have a multitude of tools make their way to the walls and initiated the cleanup. “No, no, [Name]. It's quite alright.” Bucky dismissed, still wondering how you could be in such a happy-go-lucky mood after what the hell just happened.

You reached your left hand downwards, expecting one of your tools to fly into hand. “Uhhh, I can't seem to find my hammer. Can someone get an extra from the closet?” At those words, an idea popped into a certain gods mind. Now he sure enough wasn't the mischievous type compared to his brother Loki, but Thor did enjoy teasing you as much as everyone else did. Clint stared at him with that knowing look in his eyes, fully aware of what the deity had in mind. It was quite obvious to everyone what Thor was thinking, and most of them groaned in dismay or laughed in agreement.

“You honestly can't find any other way to act smooth, can you?” Tony remarked with a sip of his drink. Unlike the others, the capabilities of Thors legendary hammer Mjolnir hadn't been leaked to you at all. And since you hadn't the slightest clue to whatever Thor was brainstorming, this only worked to his favor. “Of course he can't. The only way he knows how to is by telling his long tales of being a god and whatever.” Sam stated with a wave of his hand. To elaborate on what they were saying— Thor may have developed a small l̶a̶r̶g̶e̶ liking towards you. Just a little bit. But honestly, he wasn't the only one.

“You guys just can't leave the poor girl alone for one minute, can you?” Wanda laid back into the recliner while making said comment. “Hey, I'm not the one thinking it up.” Bruce waved his hands around in defense. “Nor am I.” Clint added before doubling with a, “But just in case, 30 bucks saying she'll hold it.” Que the loud and obviously ticked off groans from Steve. “That's a really low move,” He grumbled, throwing his left arm atop of his face. “..... 50 saying she will.”

Bucky threw a pillow at his companions stomach, scolding him for indulging in this idiot plan to make you swoon for Thor. “10 on her not holding it.” Until giving in himself for why not sakes.

Before they knew it, the team was all making quiet bets deciding whether or not your palm could properly wrap around the handle of the legendary hammer without falling. The good news if you couldn't hold it was that Thor could catch you —due to the weight of the hammer knocking you off balance and sending you quickly gravitating towards the floor— in one arm and his hammer in another, looking dashing and being seen in your eyes as ‘hero’. And even if you could hold it, to which he HIGHLY doubted, he'd be getting paid. It was a win-win on either side.

Snickers and moans, followed by a few discouraging comments courtesy of Sam, flew around as Thor aproached the ladder you stood at with Mjolnir behind his back. “[Name], I have the hammer you seek-” Once he turned his eyes up, he immediately dragged them back down to the floor with a crimson stroking his usual pale skin, not wanting to come off as ungentlemanly for staring at your rump. A cough came from his mouth as you opened a free hand and held it out, expecting the hammer to be set into your palm. “Thank you Thor.” Oh goodness your voice was like catnip to a catnip-starved street feline. He absolutely adored it with his entire heart and soul. Almost made him feel bad for what he was about to do. “E-ehem! You're deeply welcome, my dear [Name].” He said, pulling his weapon from behind him and holding it by the base, setting the handle within your palm. His head clocked back towards the team, who either gave a look of affirmation or one of disagreement to his action.

Thor sighed, his fingers releasing grip of the iron block and opening his arms out, ready to catch you.

Nothing happened.

It went dead silent in the tower, the only sound being you hammering the nail into the wall to finish hanging the picture. The amount of jaws that dropped was immesurable. Thor turned his head round to witness the shocked expressions written over his team mates faces. Oh yeah, they looked like all hell had been loose. Deciding to dart his gaze upwards to where they all directed their sights, he joined the rest of the avengers in this awestricken state.

There you were, twirling the hammer in your hand innocently as you wiped the sweat glands forming on your forehead. “There we go. Good as new.” You remarked with a chirp, pushing the picture frame to be straight and neat. You slid down the ladder as the tools fell back into your small toolbox, the top closing itself instinctively with a satisfying snap. “This is quite the odd modeling for a hammer. But nevertheless, thank you for the help. If I had moved, it might've been raining wrenches and iron bits, heh.” A gloved hand, your hand exactly, scratched the nape of your neck as you giggled nervously. Due to your close-eyed grin, you were unable to catch glimpse of Thors' undescribable expression that painted his face.

“I’ll get going to the outside now. Y-you all have fun!” With that you dashed through the living room on your way to the balcony, opening your eyes and taking notice of everyone's faces. “What's wrong? I can always lend an ear if need be.” You chuckled, leaving them all in wake of those words.

“She held it.” Clint was the first to speak up amongst the group, putting a wall between the quietness. “She actually held it.” His mouth was wide enough to stuff and entire pie in as he said that. “She actually held it.” Sam took a long hard stare at his drink, eyes furrowing. What the hell was in it? He wasn't drunk right now, right? Oh well, whatever was in it -or left in it- was gone, down his throat. Natasha just smirked in a know-it-all fashion, retorting “That's what you all get for underestimating the power of [Name],” “Aka the power of unrelenting kindness.” Wanda and Nat did a little fist bump. “Name's worthy... Totally didn't see that coming.” Steve said sarcastically with a smug look. He already foresaw the hammer within your threshold long ago after witnessing what a charismatic young lady you were, always willing to help whenever.

“See, this is the part where I wake up because I know I did not just let a 200 go to waste.” Tony said, pinching his cheeks. Everybody was stuck in conversation, dishing out surprised comments or bragging about the money they got simply from the bet. However, Thor wasn't making any comments at all. No gasps, no inhales, nothing. Just nothing. It was blatantly obvious that he was the most stunned of all. Bruce smirked. “What's the matter Thor? Someone finally picked up the claimed ‘unholdable’ hammer and now you're quiet?”

“To be honest, [Name] is probably the worthiest of us all.” Peter said. “I mean, she has a heart of gold. Literal gold.” He fawned over how much of a sweetheart you absolutely were. Pietro nodded in agreement. “She's a gracious girl with nothing but purity within her.”

It goes without saying that this whole idea of ‘worthy’ didn't define as much to everyone as it did to Thor. So many roads were being laid out before his very eyes revolving around you. This had so many different meanings, so many different futures. You could take place as a ruler of Asgard. You could possibly transend and become a goddess. The head attached to the mop of blonde hair was sent into a ditzy. He was in this state of rethinking literally everything that's eved occured in his life. His emotions were a mix of shock, rage, joy, and so much more— all of them swirling n him and creating a feeling he didn't even know existed. There was no way to even give it proper words. “Hey, Thor.” Rhodney snapped his fingers, eliciting the other to awaken from his daydream. “Oh, yes?”

“So, whatcha gonna do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“[Name] held your hammer. This obviously means something besides the fact that she's boiling with love to spread.” Bucky said. “Isn't there something more to it...?”

“I have to marry her.” Thor said without hesitation. “What?” Everyone in the room perked their heads up. “Asgard must be ruled over with those the hammer deems worthy, and [Name] is without a doubt worthy.” Oh how Steve was happy that he didn't pull the hammer off the table that time when they were all drinking. “Awww, so you finally get a shot to kiss wittle old [Name]y-waymey.” Tony mocked, making fake smooching noises. “He wasn't ever going to make a move on his own, I think it's good that the hammer got involved.” Pietro commented.

“Jeez it's blazing hot out there.” Speak of the devil, there you were, emerging from the outside with sweat running down your body, your clothes almost soaked in the substance. “I could use a drink right about now.” Waltzing your way to the fridge, you bent down and picked out a small glass of water, chugging it down in one gulp and releasing an ‘ahhh’ of satisfaction.

Thor felt something hit his head; A pillow. Glaring at the one who threw it, the god sighed at Clints childish act yet got the message. He inhaled, mustering all the courage he could and walking up to you. “Uhm, lady [Name], I could really-” “Hey Thor. Here's your hammer back.” You turned and greeted, opening his palm to place the hammer in it. “W-wait, you knew this was mines...?” He asked questioningly. “Yup. You always walk around with it after all,” A light laugh emitted as he took the time to process this. “It's pretty light for a hammer that only gods can pick up. Does that make me a goddess?” Everyone overhearing this in the living room snickered. No doubt about it, Thor was going to go crazy.

“Wellll, I guess since it's your hammer, that technically makes me your goddess!”

thor.exe has crashed

[idonthaveanyurlideas]

some

BODY once told me that beaujester week starts now because timezones are a goddamn mystery and i live in the future compared to most of yall and i cannot wait any long to share my fics with you 

SO HERES DAY 1 YALL BATTLE COUPLE AND FIRST KISS YEET @beaujester-week

AO3 Link

and fic below the cut:

There were some moments that Beau really hated magic. Right now was one of those moments.

“Can you see them?” Jester’s voice called out from the bottom of the tree that Beau had climbed up.

Frowning, Beau gave another look across the skyline, perched on a thin branch near the very top of the tree. The sun was quickly approaching the horizon, but she saw nothing but trees. After a few more moments of searching, she dropped back down to the ground with a scowl on her face.

“Nothing. Not even some smoke. Either Caleb fell into a cave or something, or we got sent too far away to see anything.”

Jester was hugging herself when Beau dropped down, her lips pursed and her foot tapping the ground. “When I messaged him he didn’t say anything about not being able to shoot something into the sky…”

“Then we must be really far away. Or he’s really far away.” Beau ran a hand through her hair. “Either way, I’ve got no idea where the others are. Can you message anyone else?”

“I can… but then I won’t have high enough magic left to dimension door us towards them.”

Great. Just wonderful. The two women glanced around the forest for a while, as if something might have changed in the ten minutes since some asshole wizard had managed to teleport them out here. Usually, it wouldn’t be a problem, but this particular forest was, according to the locals, filled with gnolls, ogres and wolves and other things that would probably like to kill them. It was also apparently far larger than originally anticipated.

Of course, assuming they were even still in the same forest as they’d been in when they fought that stupid wizard.

“What about locate object?” Beau asked, looking up through the verdant canopy at the sky, which was becoming tinged with pinks and oranges of sunset.

“I already tried with Caleb and Caduceus…” Jester’s voice trailed off, and she winced, while Beau tried to remember how many spells she’d seen Jester cast in the fight before they’d gotten whisked to wherever they were now. Too many. Better she save whatever she had left than waste it on the hope any of the others were still in range.

“Right. Guess we better… pick a direction and start walking.” She said.

Jester brightened up a little, making a show of picking a random direction and declaring it to be the best one, setting off with a spring in her step. Beau jogged to catch up to her, keeping a lookout for any danger as they began making their way through the forest.

It would be fine, Beau was sure. They’d walk around until they found somewhere to shelter for the night, Jester would be able to send more messages in the morning, they’d be able to work out where everyone is, and then they’d figure out how to get back to each other.

They just had to survive a maybe-monster-infested forest until they did.

As if she had called it upon themselves, Beau heard a dull, faint thud from somewhere to her right, followed by a few more. She tensed up and stopped in her tracks, Jester instinctively freezing next to her, both of them looking in the direction the sound, squinting through the branches.

For a few moments, silence reigned.

Another set of thuds, more noticeable now that Beau was listening out to them. Heavy, and slow. Far too close for comfort.

“We need to-” Whatever else Beau was going to say was lost in an instant when all of her instincts suddenly screamed for her to duck. She did, grabbing Jester by the arm and pulling her down with her, a javelin whistling over right where they had been standing, where it probably would have skewered them both had they stayed still.

Jester couldn’t help a surprised yelp, clapping her hand over her mouth.

The footsteps were quicker now, still approaching. They didn’t need to be told twice, scrambling back to their feet and taking off in the opposite direction, Beau holding on tight to Jester’s hand. The last thing they needed was to get any further separated.

Unfortunately, whatever was chasing them was faster. Beau could hear the footsteps — about two sets if she was hearing correctly — pounding closer and closer with every passing second.

Another javelin flew past them, burying itself into a tree trunk just in front of them.

Jester stiffened for a second, Beau’s momentum carrying them forward so quickly they stumbled, buckling to their knees and scrambling to get back up, both of them cursing three ways to the next week.

They were down for a barely a few seconds, but even that small delay was enough for their enemies to catch up, two hulking ogres breaking into view, massive splintering greatclubs gripped in their hands and sneers crossing their faces.

“Dimension door?” Beau asked, Jester nodding with wide, fearful eyes before opening her mouth to say the spell.

At the same moment, one of the ogres picked up a fallen tree trunk that lay on the ground, chucking it directly at them, the other lumbering forward with greatclub raised.

Beau dove out of the way, rolling to a stop and seeing Jester now a good fifteen feet away from her, having jumped in the opposite direction to avoid the trunk, which splintered on the ground where they had been.

Fuck. Shit. She caught Jester’s eye from between the trees, a split second before they knew a fight would really be upon them. Her eyebrows knitted together with determination, her hands already reaching for her holy symbol.

If they weren’t able to stick together long enough for a Dimension Door, then they’d just have to do this the old-fashioned way.

Luckily for them, they were surrounded by trees. Trees which gave Beau an excellent vantage point to run up and jump off of in order to kick an ogre in its stupid face. Multiple times.

For about thirty seconds, it all went remarkably well. The trees also gave them a fair amount of cover, the ogres having to duck and squeeze their way through to try and get to them. Jester managed a lucky guiding bolt, nailing one of the ogres directly in the eyes and sending it crashing to the forest floor.

Seeing its brethren fallen, the ogre Beau had been fighting promptly lost its shit. The only warning Beau got was a low, guttural roar before a greatclub slammed into her stomach.

All the breath was knocked out of her lungs, a sharp cracking sound filling her ears as she went sprawling onto the ground, distantly hearing a shocked cry from Jester somewhere behind her.

“Beau!” Jester’s dress rustled as she sat down next to her, Beau grimacing and wheezing as she pulled herself up to her knees.

“I’m good-I’m good-” She huffed, holding one arm over her stomach.

Jester opened her mouth to say something, cradling one hand and holding her holy symbol in the other.

But then the ogre roared again, far too close for comfort.

“Shit-” Jester glared at the ogre, her eyes flickering back to Beau before she seemed to make a snap decision in her mind, and all of a sudden, her lips were pressed up against Beau’s, a burst of warmth and healing magic flowing into her.

The kiss lasted for a second and then Jester was gone again, holding her injured hand to her chest and running past her, a sacred rush of flames descending upon the ogre.

What…?

Beau sat there stunned for a few moments, focused entirely on the quickly fading sensation of Jester’s kiss, the last lingering remnants of her magic leaving a soft glow in their wake that soon faded too.

Then the ogre took a swing at Jester, the tiefling just narrowly managing to jump out of the way, and the world came crashing back around her again. She darted to her feet, curling her hands into fists again before racing back into the fray, even if a part of her was still stuck on what had just happened, stuttering like a broken record.

With the two of them together, they made short work of the remaining ogre, only waiting a moment to catch their breath before they ran deeper into the forest. The sun was truly setting now, but it wasn’t long before they found a cave — okay, more like a crack in the side of a hill, but it provided some cover — that they huddled into, not wanting to take their chances resting out in the open.

The adrenaline faded away and no matter how hard she tried, Beau’s thoughts kept drifting back to the kiss. Did it count as a kiss? It had been so quick, such a split-second moment, could it really be called a kiss? Jester had kissed her before, on the forehead or even on the cheek a few times, but never on the lips.

Even though the fight was over, Beau’s heart was still racing. Her stomach seemed to be tying itself in knots, her breaths short. Or maybe that was because of the cracked ribs.

“Are you okay?” Jester’s voice cut into her thoughts and she tilted her head towards her. “Your hands are shaking.”

“What?” Beau looked down to see her hands were vibrating, not too much but enough to be noticeable, and she promptly willed them to stop. “Oh.” Gods, she still sounded flustered, her cheeks heating up.

She looked back at Jester, whose expression was somewhere between expectant and absolutely bewildered. For a few moments, they just looked at each other, cheeks a few shades redder or purpler than they usually were, fingers twitching towards each other.

Gods, what if she was waiting for Beau to say something? What if she had already forgotten about it? It probably didn’t mean anything, she’d just been trying to give Beau some quick healing, one of her hands had been full and it looked like the other had been hurt and-

“Oh, your hand, is it alright?” Beau spoke quickly, grateful for any distraction.

A flicker of something crossed Jester’s face but quickly disappeared, the hand she’d been cradling before still curled up against her chest. “Um, it’s fine. Nothing a good nights sleep won’t fix.”

Beau shuffled a little closer, thankful they’d taken the time to create a small campfire, trying not to look Jester directly in the eye lest she absolutely lose her mind. “Are you sure? I’ve-I’ve sprained and broken wrists before, they hurt a lot if you don’t take care of them properly.”

“If you say so.” Jester chuckled lightly even though she hadn’t really said anything funny, lowering her hand and allowing Beau to take a look.

A few seconds glance told Beau that it was definitely sprained, at the very least. They were both silent while Beau took care of it, but she could feel Jester’s eyes on her, while her traitorous mind continued to replay those tiny few seconds, picking it apart until she almost felt like she was actually seeing it happen over and over again.

“You- uh, out of healing spells?”

“Yeah. I used my last one on you.” They were both now pointedly avoiding eye contact, even as they sat so close their legs and sides were pressed against each other.

“Right. That was…” What was she saying what was she saying oh gods “That was nice.” What the fuccckkkkk?

For a second there was dead silence. “Oh.” Jester sounded surprised. Not just surprised, pleasantly surprised. “Nice?”

Abort. Abort. Abort! “Yeah. Unexpected… but nice.”

Nice? Was that really the only word she could come up with?

“I mean-uh, it was pretty heat of the moment-” Beau’s mind was spiralling, trying to land on the right words to say and just ending up flailing hopelessly, her tongue moving without her brain really able to catch up. The only consolation was that Jester seemed equally as lost.

“Oh yeah, totally.”

“It was a tense situation, really quick, your hands were full. Not too meaningful, right?” Oh, gods.

“Right.”

Beau chanced a look at Jester, only to accidentally make eye contact, quickly breaking it off to stare directly at the opposite side of the cave instead. They lapsed into an awkward silence.

It was probably a good thing that her body was already stiff, because when Jester’s hand slowly, hesitantly found its way over to Beau’s, fingers carefully tucking themselves around hers, she couldn’t tense up any further than she already was.

When she spoke, Jester’s voice was barely above a whisper. “It… it could be meaningful.”

Beau’s heart skipped a beat.

She swallowed, before clearing her throat. “Yeah?”

Slowly, ever so painfully slowly, Beau turned her head to face Jester. This time, she didn’t break the eye contact.

“Can… can I kiss you properly this time?”

Beau didn’t answer. She just nodded, closed her eyes, and leaned in.

[flyswhumpcenter]

Nurse Café - Chapter 1/6: “You’re Not Supposed to Drink Coffee This Late, Sir”

NEXT CHAPTER

Summary: Life could have honesty been simpler than that for Hokuto, a second-year Liteature major. There's, however, someone out there willing to just make it easier on him.

Fandom: Ensemble Stars! (College/Coffeeshop AU) Ships: HokuAn (Anzu/Hokuto)

Wordcount: 1.5K words

Notes: C'mon, the occasion was too tempting for me not to title this fic after the real banger that is Susumu Hirasawa's masterpiece, "Nurse Café".

Your boi is working on his big-ass Arc-V fic project, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do and writing a nice little sickfic. AKA: I'm bursting that fandoms's door like I've always done, which is with a sickfic nobody wanted but me (and maybe my friend @nehamerchant123 who got me into this mess in the first place) (btw go check her cake business, she’s working on her cardd page for it)

I've been into this game's characters for a whole three weeks but I am not giving a shit I am doing this. I also don't know anything about colleges at all in any part of the world, I don't even know the Sorbonne because I've been there like thrice and it's always been in the same parts anyway (to be fair, I'm not even attending it yet lmao) It's very self-indulgent so it's short and split in two, I dunno, I may combine the two chapters some other day. It's probably also OOC, but whatever yeet

AO3 version available here.

----------

On second thought, his life may have been a mess, lately. For someone who liked organization, keeping a pace and thinking everything thoroughly to reach as much perfection as possible, he sure had allowed things to get messy without meaning to. To be fair to himself, problems had started piling up suddenly and at an incredible speed, to the point he didn’t know in what order he should have attempted fixing them: should he prioritize taking care of his grandmother who broke her leg not too long ago, his studies increasing in volume or his club duties, even if his leader was getting on his nerves with his weird, nonsensical shenanigans?

At first, he tried managing everything at once, but after some weeks of pulling almost-all-nighters, he decided to seek alternatives. It didn’t quite work out as planned, but at least, he had found a way to survive the storm for now: the local coffeeshop’s espressos. For someone who used to be so on-the-nose with his health, that was a strange choice, sure, but being friends with people like Subaru Ahehoshi made one adaptable and needing to find solutions quickly, if just temporary.

Not that he didn’t hate relying on coffee in the first place.

 His new routine, solidified by a couple months spent tuning it to maximize time use and task efficiency (albeit it was still a bit stiff, like he had always been), consisted of doing the most he can, not fall onto his bed and immediately find sleep before getting woken up by his own anxiety, and continue on his day by getting a cup of coffee in the same café, each time, to the same cashier. It was always the same order in the same place at similar hours of the evening, which gave it a sense of comfort he wasn’t against in times where he wasn’t sure how he should have asked for help. All of what he was doing is stuff he was supposed to be doing by himself, after all: he shouldn’t have needed someone else’s help for that, didn’t need to bring them through the mud with him (even if Isara had offered to help him, he had always declined: Isara may have very well been the only man he knew that had constantly been busier than him).

His grandma has told him before to lay it off, to let her do her thing and for him to focus on himself. While he intended on forcing himself not to barge into her life constantly, he quickly found himself doing it again even after her scolding: he just couldn’t not worry over it, he had to check if she was doing fine and if she was getting the hang of things. Ah, how thick-headed he’s been!

(In a way, maybe he put himself in that mess to begin with. Should have applied his own advice and tasted his own medicine).

 With a presentation dooming over his head for the next week and more drama club shenanigans, he had gotten backed in a corner: it was either researching for the entire night or risk getting an awful grade that’d sink his results to the bottom of the sea. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, he had gone for the first option, albeit he was starting to think this may not have been the greatest idea he had ever had. (Actually, far from it). Still, that presentation wouldn’t write itself on its own, so he went for it and spent a night or two working on that while occupying his daytime with taking care of his grandma (who’s soon out of having her feet stuck in some cast, thank God for that) and club business and other college-related catastrophes strolling around in his life.

It was with a pounding headache and stumbling feet that he made it out of his flat and into the campus, heading straight for the café he always got his precious cup of coffee in (he was hesitating to put aspirin in the cup itself, but that sounded like a terrible idea, and he had left his aspirin tablets in his flat anyway), ignoring the gazes around him (it was easier to do when his sight is half-blurry to begin with). Once he was done with that necessary loss of time, he’d be able to come back to his actual work and that until he’d be finished with it. If he was productive enough, he should have been done with that presentation’s slideshow by the time 5AM hits.

 He entered the café, heard an unfamiliar bell ring immediately as he opened and closed the door, and went straight for the counter like a drunkard entering a tavern. He didn’t care about it in the slighest: he pulls out his yens from his pocket, slams them on the counter and asks, in a groggy voice he doesn’t like to hear to himself, “hello, I’d like an espresso, please”, with the least charisma he could have mustered because he was that tired and he just wanted to be over with that damn presentation already.

It was only when he rose his eyes to face the barista that he realized he had entered the wrong café, right as he faced a high school classmate, friend, and probably something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on, whom had never worked at his usual café. He didn’t say anything, but gulped and swallowed his pride back in, and payed for his espresso by pushing the coins anyway (Ahehoshi would have jumped on the counter to get them: they were undeniably shinier than they should have been).

 “Good evening, sir, thank you for com…”

Silence.

“Hokuto, is that you?!”

That voice was no mistake: this was Anzu, from the Management course. This was going to be painful…

“Ah… Yeah…?” Oh God. What was he supposed to tell her? That he didn’t even know where he was walking anymore? That this was all a giant misunderstanding on his part?  “Yeah.”

“I’m not used to seeing you around here? How are you?”

“…Fine.” Something was missing. “I hope you’re doing well too.”

That wasn’t really good dialogue. Not that Anzu picked up in it: she was probably too busy trying to do her job.

“Here you go, Hokuto…” She put his cup on the counter and picked his coins. “You’re sure you should be drinking that at this time of the day? It’s late and you’ll have a hard time sleeping if you drink that now.” Then she muttered to herself: “looks like you’d benefit from a good night’s sleep too…”

“Thank you, have a goodnight.”

 He picked his cup and went to a table, legs feeling faint. There was nobody still around in the café: clearly, unlike his usual 24/7 place where there always was someone living in the night (the Sakuma brothers trying to avoid each other but finding themselves in the same place and Hajime taking part-time jobs were the firsts to come to his mind), this was a daytime place and he was all aone, stuck with his pounding headache and Anzu cleaning before closing. He had something like fifteen minutes to drink his fuming coffee and get out of there, but even his hands felt sluggish and unresponsive.

Maybe he really wanted to throw that presentation out of the window and just sleep for the next three days. He didn’t even know what he was doing anymore anyway.

 After a few moments, he watched with bleary eyes and eyelids closing on their own Anzu walked to him and sit on the opposite side of the table, staring at him with an expression he couldn’t really read, before her hand arrived on his forehead. It was cold, unnaturally so, and he wondered if she didn’t have blood circulation problems like he was worried he could have had before. Yet, despite his rising concerns, he still let himself lean into it, too tired to really pay attention to how he was behaving. That was bad, awful even. He needed to gulp his coffee, so he did, burnt his tongue and throat, and was about to pack it when he noticed she was still staring at him.

“I… I need to go, is there something wrong?” He asked, hoping this would be enough.

“You…”

Huh. Okay.

“I’m leaving now, I’ll let you close the sh—”

 Black dots appeared in his sight as soon as he got up and he felt his body plunge forward, hand slipping instead of grabbing at the table, vision blurring until all he could feel was hands wrapping themselves around him and faint, muffled sounds resonating in the distance.

It was all over, wasn’t it? He couldn’t move nor feel anymore, right? What a way to end his rush… What way to finish the evening that he was supposed to finish his presentation on… That was his way to go? Huh… Not like he could resist against his own body finally turning on him.

 He had failed in a dramatic fashion, that was for sure.

And, to be honest, he kind of hated it.

[haro-whumps]

Group Whumpees 5: Tired

CW: Referenced/Implied noncon, shitty family relationships, faint from hunger, vomiting from fear, disassociation, slavery, aftermath of abuse, multiple whumpees

Tag list: @bleeding-demon-teeth @theycomeinthrees @redwingedwhump @whimperwoods @inpainandsuffering @whole-and-apart-and-between @whump-whump-whump-it-up @whumpingupastorm @newandfiguringitout @lonesome--hunter @looptheloup @icannotweave @cowboysrappin @deluxewhump @whumping-every-day @yeet-me-out-a-window @what-a-whumpy-world @burtlederp @constellationwhump @swordkallya @finder-of-rings @fairybean101 

Masterlist

He’d taken as many painkillers as his body mass allowed (and he was not a small man) but Galo’s headache was still going strong. It had been a few days since his aunt’s death, so funeral preparations were in their final stretch, the funeral itself the next day. Which, of course, meant that anything that could go wrong, was going wrong very presently.

“I told you, dad,” Galo said, rubbing at his temple with the hand not holding his phone, “After the funeral.”

“It hardly seems fair to me that you’ve got access to all her fuckin’ money whenever you goddamn feel like it and I have to wait--”

“Twenty four hours, dad,” Galo interrupted, which he knew was a bad idea in the long run because now he’d just pissed his father off but he was done having the exact same fucking conversation over and over and o-fucking-ver again! “I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow, goodbye.”

And now he’d done it. Hanging up on his father? A bad idea.

He turned his phone off.

“If anyone wants me,” he murmured to the ceiling, “they can have me tomorrow.”

Except… no, what if the funeral home called?

...He’d give it an hour. Enough time for his dad to give up. And if the funeral home was on the list of missed calls, well, hey. They’d leave a message, and he could get back to them then. It gave him a small thrill, defying his father like this. He was very good at keeping a brave face and putting up with his dad’s shit, on the basis that it was his father, and he loved him, and he also knew his dad could make things miserable for him if he responded in kind. But it was kind of nice to be the unreasonable one, for once. 

A very soft knock on the doorframe, and Galo closed his eyes and covered them with a hand. His head hurt so bad, fuck. And Nyla didn’t knock like that, hers were always crisp and clear, which meant the person knocking was one of the other four, and Galo had gotten… more or less okay at navigating around Nyla in the last few days. The others were still pretty enigmatic.

But. He couldn’t just ignore them. He removed his hand, sat up, and saw the last person he expected.

Lilah had largely been hidden from Galo’s view. He was more or less aware that the others were keeping her away from him on purpose, so it was something of a surprise to see her seeking him out intentionally, and without anyone else along with her.

“Hey, Lilah,” Galo said, voice quiet and gentle. He offered her a tired smile. “What’s up?”

“I’ve prepared the flower arrangements for tomorrow, Master. With,” Lilah licked her lips, barely a breath’s moment, “your approval, I will bring them inside, or remake them as you see fit.”

“Already?” Galo asked, pleasantly surprised, “It’s not even noon. Thanks, Lilah, yeah, let’s take a look.” He stood and crossed to the doorway, noting how Lilah grew visibly more and more tense as he got closer. He offered his hand to her, and she knelt and kissed it swiftly. Like he’d hoped, she seemed comforted by the familiar routine, and when she stood back up and followed after him she looked a little less like a frightened statue. Galo stretched his neck from side to side, wishing he had something as simple as that that he could look towards for comfort.

God, that was pathetic. It was probably a good thing Lilah came and grabbed him; staring at some flowers and a bit of fresh air would probably liven Galo’s mood. 

Auntie Bethany’s house phone rang.

“I should disconnect that,” he muttered, followed immediately by the thought, No, no you shouldn’t. Nyla uses the phone to do her job and you’ll need it if you ever have to contact them while you’re away. Stop whining.

Lilah was staring up at him through a loose brown wave of hair, her freckles stark and her injuries not as bad as when he’d first shown up, but still very, very obviously present. He offered her a smile, probably not as convincing as he would’ve liked, but this week had been a nightmare. He was so fucking tired and the funeral wasn’t even until tomorrow. God.

“Master,” Nyla greeted, floating into his peripheral and kneeling when she got close, delicately lifting his hand and kissing his knuckles, “A man claiming to be your father is on the line, Master.”

“Thank you Nyla,” Galo said, “That is my father, yes, and I need you to do something for me, okay? Go ahead and head back to whatever line you answered, and hang up without saying anything.”

Nyla’s surprise was the work of a microsecond, an almost imperceptible twitch to the edge of her ever-present smile. “Yes Master.”

Galo watched her slip away and then turned back to Lilah, offering another smile that was probably even less convincing. “Onward to the garden, eh?”

He kept an eye on her in his peripheral, figuring staring at her directly would freak her out. “Haven’t seen you around much” would be a quick way to get her scared and feeling like she’d done something wrong. “It’s good to see you” probably couldn’t hurt? But then, most anything could hurt, in this place.

“How’ve you been, Lilah?” he settled on eventually, nearing the door to the gardens. Nope, still a bad guess. Her eyes widened, staring vacantly ahead of her, hands fisted in the hem of her shirt. He tried giving her a moment to process his words, maybe give an answer, but he worried she wouldn’t even see the door until she walked right into it. Cautiously, he extended one arm out in front of her, and placed the other gently on her back with a concerned, “Lilah?”

She jumped and stumbled, which he was glad he’d expected. She landed on his outstretched arm, gloved fingers digging briefly into his muscles before she righted herself.

“Sorry Master,” she breathed, words hardly loud enough to hear.

“No big,” Galo assured. “Just got a little worried about you for a second there. You were about to walk into the door.”

“Sorry sir--Sorry Master.”

“You’re okay,” Galo said, carefully placing his hand on her head. Head pats worked for Nyla, once she recognized them for what they were, he could only hope they might work for Lilah too. “You’re good,” he tried, remembering that that tended to go over better. 

Lilah glanced up at him, surprised, and his smile was a little more genuine that round. He’d guessed right, it looked like. She glanced down, eyes wide and peculiarly unblinking, and murmured, “Thank you Master.”

He held the door open for her, ushering her out of the mansion, and he caught sight of the floral arrangements, all of them perched on the lip of the fountain in the center of the weird hedge crop-circle. It was a bit of a walk, but probably central to all of the flowers that Lilah would’ve been working with. And honestly? He needed a walk.

They were about halfway between the house and the exterior hedge when Lilah quietly said, “I have been grateful for the challenge and stimulation of the flower arrangements, Master. I have enjoyed serving you in this way.”

Galo glanced at her, then moved his eyes purposefully forward. “I’m glad. It can be nice to break from routine.”

“Master,” Nyla called softly, and Galo twitched, already knowing what she was about to say. He turned anyway, trying to keep his sour expression off his face. Nyla wasn’t at a point where she would understand he wasn’t upset with her. She pat down her apron when she got close enough to the two of them that she could speak without raising her voice, and curtsied. 

“Your father has called again, Master.”

Galo’s eye twitched involuntarily, and he rubbed at it, feeling the absolute last of his patience start to fray. “Figures.” When he got back in the house, he was finding one of those really oversized wine glasses and filling it to the fucking top. “Okay, here’s what to do now. Leave the phone off the hook, and ignore it. Do not hang it up, and even when it starts blaring the busy signal and fast busy signal, continue to not hang it up. Please let Evan and Greyson--and Sasha, I guess, if you feel like it’s a concern--know not to hang it up, and then go back to your day, alright?”

“Yes Master,” Nyla said, bowing shallowly and then twirling with an attractive flair of her skirts, and returning to the mansion. Galo took a deep, slow breath, covering his face with his hands, and then, for good measure, took another one. He dropped his hands and offered a terse smile to Lilah. 

“Now the flower arrangements.”

“Yes Master!” Lilah gasped, ducking her head and arms circling herself, stumbling as she first backed up, then turned and sped-walked like the world’s angriest roomba was hot on her heels.

“Shit,” Galo breathed to himself, rubbing at his face. Another mistake. He knew he had to accept that he would be making a lot of those, but it was hard to do when each mistake hurt or panicked the people in his care. His long legs caught up with her easily, and a concerned glance at her face revealed she was once again fish-eyed.

“Lilah,” he said gently, arm once again extended in front of her and his fingers lightly tapping her spine. She came to a dead halt, shoulders up to her ears, breathing shallow.

“Lilah, take a deep breath for me please. Nice and slow.”

She tried, it was obvious she was trying. Just not succeeding very well. “That’s it,” he encouraged anyways, “that’s better, keep trying for me, you’re doing great. In,” he breathed in deeply, loudly through his nose, “and out,” he let it out slowly, “Try to match me; it’s okay if it takes a few tries. In,” Lilah got closer, and Galo pressed his palm encouragingly against her back, “and out, there you go Lilah, do that three more times for me.”

She did, and it hurt, how hard this was for her, how scared of him she was. It ached that people could be so frightened by him, when he’d never wanted to hurt anybody.

“There, Lilah, atta girl,” he said, keeping his tone as gentle as he could. No matter how tired and stressed (and pissed) he was, he needed to look out for Lilah and the others, first and foremost. His own emotions could take a backburner, for a little while.

He turned his attention to the flower arrangements, removing the weight of his attention from her, and approached the closest one. “These are lovely, Lilah,” he praised. Too good for Auntie Bethany, he thought privately, slowly rounding the large fountain. “They look really professional; how long have you been doing this sort of thing?”

“I have arranged bouquets for Mistress Bethany’s decor for four years, Master.”

Four whole years, he thought, and glanced at her, keeping his nose pointed towards a gladioli. She was so… small. He was sure it didn’t help that she was curled in on herself standing up, hugging her own arms and staring into the middle distance with the occasional twitch and glance his way, before staring out into space again.

“Lilah, how old are you?” Galo asked, keeping his tone conversational. Idly, he pinched a dead leaf that had been trimmed, but fallen in between the stems, and flicked it away.

“Eighteen, Master.”

Minus four years meant she was fourteen when Auntie Bethany had bought her. That felt so, impossibly young. Logically, it made sense; that was about the age she’d gotten Greyson. Obviously, Galo didn’t remember that part of his life very well, given that he’d been preoccupied riding tricycles and singing his ABC’s, but he also couldn’t remember a point in his life when Auntie Bethany hadn’t had Greyson. God, when he was fourteen he’d been trying out for the swim team and worrying about his grade in history, and Lilah had been indoctrinated into… this.

Everything felt tired and heavy. He hid behind a flower arrangement opposite the fountain to Lilah, and tried to muster up some strength or courage or god knew what to get him through this. He was going to drink a very large glass of wine, and then take a nap. 

In an ironic twist, he felt bad for hating the fact that he had to walk on eggshells every single time he decided to do literally anything, around these five. But he did hate it. It was so hard, but he didn’t know what else to do, but how dare he feel frustrated when they were the torture victims?! It was hardly fair of him. 

He rounded back around the fountain, smile at the ready, and gave Lilah a gentle pat on the back. “Good job, Lilah, these are all perfect.” From the heel of his palm to the tip of his middle finger, his hand covered the majority of her back. She was so, so small. He started to walk past her, slow, telegraphing his movements plainly. She turned, but something must have gone wrong because when she listed to the side, she couldn’t reorient fast enough. He caught her, doll-like in his arms, but where he expected her to simply lean on him a moment to regain her footing like she had earlier, her knees buckled.

“Easy, girl,” Galo said, alarmed, kneeling down to settle her on the grass. “Easy, easy, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry Master!” she whined, covering her mouth with one hand, her other braced on the ground. She sounded like she was about to cry.

“No need,” Galo hushed, touching the back of his hand to her forehead. No fever, maybe a little cool even. “You don’t need to be sorry, Lilah, I’m just worried.” He stroked a hand gently, shallowly up and down her back (she didn’t have a ton of back to rub). “What happened there?”

“I’m--dizzy, Master.”

“Okay, do you know why you’re feeling dizzy?” 

She took another deep-ish breath, and it twinged his heart to see her trying so hard. “I’m hungry, Master,” she answered very quietly.

“Did you not eat breakfast?” Galo asked, brow furrowed. He moved his hand to touch her wrist, feeling her pulse there. A little quick.

“No, Master, I haven’t eaten anything since the last time you gave us permission--none of us have, I promise. We’ve been good, Master, please, we’ve been very good,” she pleaded, desperately looking his way once before returning her eyes to the ground.

…Fuck. Fuck. He’d had his suspicions, from their thinness, that Auntie Bethany had revoked food as a punishment, but he could never have guessed that their default was not eating until they were told to.

“Okay, thank you for answering Lilah. You did good,” he said, gears in his head turning slowly. “You’ve all been drinking water though, right?” Because if that wasn’t the case he had a brand new priority that needed to be taken care of immediately.

Lilah glanced at him in sheer terror, but he didn’t backtrack or rephrase. This question needed answered.

“Yes, Master,” she said tremulously, body tense.

“Good girl, Lilah. That’s what you were meant to do.”

She relaxed a half-step. He watched her swallow, and she nodded, just barely, as though to herself.

“You’ve all been bathing?”

“Yes Master,” she said with a shaky but improved sort of confidence.

“Good,” he praised. He knew they’d been grooming their hair--Nyla’s never looked out of place, and Sasha’s and Evan’s were neatly combed. “Was it just eating that my aunt made you wait for permission for?”

“I--” she swallowed, licked her lips, and took another deep breath, “--don’t know, Master, I think so.”

“Okay? Were there other things you couldn’t do until you got permission?”

Lilah glanced at him, panicked, and he held up a hand to halt her.

“That was too broad, let me rephrase. Are there things you need that you have to get permission for?”

“Just food, Master, and sleep, but, we go to bed when our owner does?” Lilah didn’t sound very sure of herself, scared of getting the answer wrong.

“Well done, Lilah, good girl. Okay, you’ve all done very well for me, and you all definitely deserve to eat. Let’s go get some food in you.”

Lilah perked up, staring up at Galo as he stood with surprised sort of delight. He held out a hand for her and she kissed it, which, well, honestly he should’ve been expecting. “Grab on, I’ll help you stand,” Galo redirected, and she placed her (tiny, so fucking tiny god) hand in his own. She was a little like Nyla, where she barely put any of her weight into that touch, but at least he could feel something there, unlike Nyla.

“Alright, quickest route to the kitchen would be… through the garage?” Galo mused aloud, “Or, well, the shed-garage-hybrid-thing?” Honestly why did Auntie Bethany even have two garages? Only one actually attached to the driveway, the other hosted the mower-tractor thing that Galo should probably learn the official name of and all the gardening supplies, but still. Half of the car garage could be used to store landscaping stuff! No one needed that many actual cars; the size of it was, like everything else here, absurd.

“Yes, Master.” Both of them were attached to the mansion, too, the rear one near the kitchen. Convenient, like fucking everything around here, huh? He held the wooden door open for her, ushering her in first, and rubbed at his undercut tiredly. 

She stumbled again, her hand shooting out to catch herself on the wall, and in doing so she smacked the handle of a rake. Galo shot his arm out, intending to catch the thing before it smacked into her, and the metal teeth caught him on the forearm.

“Shit!” he swore, tossing the rake to the floor and gripping his arm near the elbow. He examined the wound--shallow, but it stung like a bitch--before turning eyes on Lilah, who was, predictably, petrified. She’d been on the brink of panic all day, and Galo became instantly aware that this would send her into an attack. He wasn’t--it was all moving so fast he couldn’t--she looked so scared and--

“Lilah, go stick an ice cube in your mouth,” he ordered, loud and mercifully firm. It was a trick he’d read online somewhere, and he could only hope it worked.

Fortunately, step one of the ice cube trick: disorientation, seemed to do its job.

“I--Master?” she squeaked.

“Lilah, go stick an ice cube in your mouth,” he repeated, ideally with the same tone and inflection as the first time. “If it melts before I get there, do a second one. Go.”

She went. Step two of the trick: movement, fed into a person’s fight or flight response, allowing their monkey hindbrain to feel like they were running away from the threat. Galo imagined that actually being away from him--the “threat” of the situation--would help calm her down, too.

Steps three and four: tactile stimulation to ground the person in reality, and a forced kickstart to the salivary glands that took bodily attention away from fight or flight, would happen, ideally, while he was rubbing hydrogen peroxide on this and sticking some bandaids on top. She would be scared, no doubt about that, but hopefully, hopefully, a panic attack had been circumvented. It also bought him some time to think, which he needed.

He cleaned up his arm--ouch, it stung--and grabbed his box of protein energy bars. There were only six to a box, and he’d already had at least one, so he was relieved to see he still had five left. These would do until lunch time.

He went to the kitchen, where he found Lilah bent over the sink--should he… have instructed her to swallow the melted water? He kinda hadn’t thought he would need to, but that probably didn’t matter at this point--and Sasha with her hands on Lilah’s shoulders, bent over her in concern. Sasha released her and backed away when she saw Galo enter, eyes wide and afraid, and Galo extended his hand to her, high up near her face. Sasha had a tendency of going directly to her knees whenever he was in the same room as her, which wasn’t very sanitary or necessary or anything he was particularly fond of her doing, so his way around it was to give her his hand to kiss, but high enough up she had to stay standing to do it. Nyla and Greyson would sometimes move his hands in order to kiss them, but Sasha never did.

“Hey Sasha, here, eat this,” he said, handing her a power bar, and he set the box with the remaining four on the counter. He leaned his hip against the lip of the sink and placed his palm on Lilah’s back, making her squeak.

“You’re alright, Lilah. I know it was an accident.” 

“I’m sorry Master,” she hiccupped, crying, and the ice cube fell out on the last syllable.

“I know, I know, it’s okay,” Galo assured, rubbing a hand over her back and bracing her by the shoulder. “It’s okay, Lilah. You’re sorry, it was an accident, it’s okay.” She was trembling so hard, fuck. “Take it easy, Lilah, deep breaths for me, okay?” And she tried. God, she tried so hard, he could tell, and he stayed next to her, rubbing her back until she seemed more or less able to walk without collapsing from fear or her own sobs.

“Here, Lilah,” he said, handing her a power bar. “Eat this and go lie down until lunch, okay? You are officially taking the rest of the day off, no work until tomorrow for you.”

“Master?” she squeaked. 

“That’s an order, Lilah,” he said as gently as he could. She took the bar in trembling fingers and left the kitchen in a rush, and Galo rubbed at his undercut, trying not to sigh. Ugh, he really needed a hair trim.

“Sasha,” he said, tone even and light, and she still flinched, the empty wrapper of her energy bar crinkling in her anxious fist. “When you get started on lunch, make enough for six, yeah?”

She nodded, looking surprised but briefly pleased, and he surveyed the kitchen. Everywhere were trees and stacks and platters of foodstuffs, probably waaay more than the funeral would actually need, but eh. Whatever. He could afford to be a little wasteful.

“Sasha,” he said, approaching her, and her wide blue eyes stared up at him in terror. “I’m giving you a new set of responsibilities, okay? From now on, you need to make three meals a day for everyone, every day. You’re in charge of making sure everyone eats. Unless I revoke food privileges,” which he never would, but Sasha likely wouldn’t believe that, “you’re in charge of everyone having at least three meals. If someone’s hungry between meals, it’s your job to feed them then, too. Alright?”

Sasha nodded, and Galo let out a tiny sigh of relief. Good, it stuck, she didn’t look confused and wasn’t searching his face like she might tell where the catch was. Framing it as one of her responsibilities had worked. “I’ll let Nyla know about the change, too.”

He stopped her before she could drop to her knees by holding his hand out to her a second time, and she kissed it again.

“Good girl,” he praised, settling his left hand on her right shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. It was the spot that she was most receptive to, he was pretty sure. She didn’t like her left shoulder touched, and anywhere on the face or head was a definite no-go, but she would occasionally lean into the touch if it was on her right shoulder. “I know I can count on you.”

Fear was replaced by a starry eyed awe, and no small amount of surprise. He gave her shoulder another squeeze, and left the kitchen.

Aw fuck, someone still had to bring the floral arrangements inside to protect them from weather damage. He snagged a bottle of wine while he was halfway through the door, pulled out the stopper, and drank straight from the bottle. His nap would have to wait.

--

Lilah staggered into the kitchen, door banging against the wall and making Sasha jump.

“Sorry,” Lilah whispered, unable to see very well. She landed somewhere on the lip of counter between the sink and the fridge, fingers digging into the marbe hard enough she had to have reopened a scab. She could see the red. She couldn’t feel it.

“Lilah?” Sasha asked, sounding horrified, and Lilah could relate. Her fingers struggled to grip the freezer door handle, and it was even harder to fight past the suction and pry the thing open.

“Lilah h-honey what’s wr-wrong?” Sasha asked urgently, quietly.

I have to put ice in my mouth and I hurt Master Galo warred for dominance, each equally important. One was the order she had to follow. The other was the explanation for whatever was about to happen to her, so Sasha wouldn’t be confused when Lilah was punished on the kitchen tile.

“Ice,” Lilah gasped, crying already. It was worse, when she started crying before the punishment began. If she could hold it in until the first or second swing (she never made it further than that) then sometimes Mistress could be convinced that she was being sufficiently punished, and the pain was the only cause. But crying beforehand was a punishable offense. And Lilah already deserved to be punished so badly.

“I need to put ice in my mouth,” Lilah choked out, “I have to leave it there until it melts, and i-if it melts before Master arrives I have to do a second one.”

Sasha handed her an ice wedge and Lilah put it in her mouth, the sharp cold making her hiccup. It--disoriented her, stung, almost, distracted her from her fear for a moment. She didn’t understand what the point of this was--maybe Master Galo had a sensitive mouth, and the ice would become rapidly intolerable for him? Mistress had always come down hard on their knees, especially when her own were flaring up. 

If Master Galo planned on hitting her like Mistress had--

Lilah rushed to the sink, managing to make the couple steps before she vomited. Water and bile came up, plus the ice, and she sobbed once, daringly loud for someone already in trouble. She extended her hand, she needed to--

“No, L-Lilah, no, j-just get a n-new one,” Sasha interrupted, moving Lilah’s hand away from the ice in the sink and turning the hot water on. “You b-barely st-started that one,” then, quieter, “h-he won’t kn-know.”

Lilah put the new ice wedge in her mouth and watched the hot water melt the ice in the sink, rinsing away the bile as well. Sasha kept an arm around Lilah’s back, hand trembling on her shoulder, and turned the water off the moment the melted ice was small enough to fit down the drain. Sasha’s other hand came to Lilah’s other shoulder, and Lilah keened softly. She tongued the ice into her cheek and said, miserably, “I hurt Master.” Lilah choked on a sob. “I hurt him.”

“Oh, Lilah…” Sasha gasped, and Lilah didn’t need to look to know she was near-tears herself. Lilah wished she could stop crying. She wished she could go Quiet, but that probably wouldn’t happen until at least partway through the beating. 

Of the two kitchen doors, it was the closer one that Master came in through, and it took every ounce of willpower Lilah had to not throw up again. Sasha’s presence left her, and while it stripped her of the physical comfort her being there gave Lilah, it gave a different comfort that Sasha had gotten out of the way in time.

Except Master Galo was talking to her first, apparently, and Lilah’s ears were ringing high and whining. She caught the tail end, though, and it was a great relief against the wall of her sheer terror to know that at least, her fuckup hadn’t taken food from the rest of the group. Master was letting Sasha eat. It was just Lilah that would stay hungry.

When she felt his hand on her back, she nearly screamed, barely able to choke it back. He was talking to her, but some words were missing.

She apologized. She tried to obey. She tried to understand what kind of mindgame it was, that he was still comforting her, and not hurting her, but it was hard just to think, right then, much less puzzle out where the trap was going to spring from. 

Then he told her to eat, and rest, and not to work, and she didn’t understand!

But an order was an order, so she ran from the kitchen, stumbled her way to their bedroom and collapsed on the floor, door ajar and bed nearby but unable to make it there. The pain in her shoulder from where she’d fallen… it wasn’t good, but it helped ground her. It made sense, when she was so scared and confused like this. She sobbed into her gloves, curled up in around herself, power bar crunching in her hand beneath its wrapper. 

She sobbed for an indeterminate amount of time, and was surprised when strong arms lifted her up. But she’d recognize that scent anywhere, even if she couldn’t see straight right then.

“Evan!” she sobbed, clinging to him, and she felt more than heard him shush her, his breath warm on her ear and the side of her face. 

“Easy munchkin,” Evan said, setting her down on the edge of the bed and prying off her work boots, then picking her back up and settling himself up against the headboard, Lilah in his lap. “Easy baby girl, where’s it hurt?”

“Nowhere!” she wailed, fisting a hand in her hair. “He, he didn’t punish me at all,” she hiccupped, and Evan made an angry little “tch” noise. 

“What the fuck is that bastard’s game?!” he asked quietly, mouth muffled in her hair, and his arms wrapped around her so tight and safe, nosing against the top of her head, and she wiped at her eyes.

“Sh-shouldn’t call him a bastard, Ev,” Lilah reminded, her crying finally winding down.

“Yeah, well, he should act like a normal person,” Evan grumbled, gently tugging off her glove, and then prying her fingers out of the energy bar in her other hand, one arm around her at all times. “C’mon, lil lady, he ordered us to eat.”

“I shouldn’t be,” Lilah grumbled miserably as Evan tugged off her other glove, then shoved his (undamaged) power bar into her hands. “If anything made sense anymore, I wouldn’t be.”

“Yeah, well, the dude’s confusing as all hell and the rules are different now. At least he’s done fuckin’ starving us.” Evan ripped open his own (Lilah’s) power bar and picked up one of the chunks, tossing it into his mouth. “For now.”

“I think… he just wanted to prove he could?” Lilah said hesitantly, nibbling on hers so she wouldn’t vomit again. “He asked a lot of strange questions, when I was showing him the flower arrangements.”

“All his questions are strange.”

“Stranger than usual,” Lilah insisted, and Evan pressed a kiss to the top of her hair.

“I believe you, baby girl.”

“Thanks, baby boy.”

“Hey,” he said, giving a lock of her hair a playful tug, “Who are you calling baby? I’m an adult man, thank you very much.”

“And I’m an adult woman, your point?”

Because, technically, Lilah hadn’t been lying to Master Galo in the garden. She was eighteen--probably. Somewhere around there, at the very least. She didn’t know when her birthday was exactly, and she never had any reason to know what day or month it was, but she knew she had been born sometime in this season. So. Eighteen, plus or minus maybe a month or two.

“Noooo, you’re like, ten.”

“Jackass,” she said quietly, knowing fully well that she was saying a forbidden word.

“Baby girl. Baby.”

“Dickhead,” she said with a small, wet giggle.

“Itty bitty little munchkin.”

“Bastard man.”

“Precious baby angel.” She swatted his hand when he tried to pinch her cheek. “Sweet little cherub.”

“Asshole.”

“No no no, wait, I’ve got it,” Evan said with a snap of his fingers, and Lilah tilted her head, curious, no longer crying at all. “You’re my sweet precious darling little--”

She squealed when he jerked in and blew a raspberry on her neck, barely keeping her voice down, collapsing into giggles when he let up. 

“Terrible stinky man!” she said, grinning wide and shoving his face away from her with one hand, trying to wriggle out of his arms, which were very strong and holding her in place. “Awful little dirt gremlin! Nasty boy!”

He let her go, suddenly, and she landed on the bed with a quiet “oof!” He laughed at her, and tilted his head back to down the crushed up bits of his power bar, and she took a decisive bite out of hers, glaring at him. He smiled “innocently” at her and her glare narrowed, taking another bite.

“What’s up, lil lady? You look upset there.”

It might have soured the mood--her face was tearstained and ruddy, she knew--but it was Evan, so it didn’t.

“Yeah, I just have a no-brains for a best friend,” she retorted, finishing off her power bar and chucking the wrapper at him. 

“Hey, stupid and beautiful are a pair of traits that are in high demand when they’re together.”

“I’ll give you that,” Lilah said, crawling back up to the headboard and flopping her head down into his lap. “I guess you’re pretty enough to give a free pass. This time.”

“I’m honored,” Evan said sarcastically, finishing off the crumbs in his wrapper and letting it drop onto her face. She blew at it.

Evan was, about half the time, Lilah’s first and so-far-only real crush. The other half the time, he was her dumb big brother who stuck things in his nostrils to make her laugh. He was her favorite person ever, not that she’d tell the others that (although, they probably knew), and she could count on him to look out for her and cheer her up.

He placed his large, warm palm on her back and stroked it gently, easy on the bruises that were still there, on the scabs and cuts and scars. She sighed contentedly and sank into his warmth, into the comfort his presence always, always provided.

“I’m supposed to rest until lunch,” she told him quietly, soothed by the familiar hand on her back, “And then I’m supposed to stay here for the rest of the day.”

“Doing what?” Evan asked, sounding uncomfortable, almost-angry like he was ready to be mad, but not sure what to be mad at yet.

“Dunno,” she said, shifting a little so she wasn’t lying on the shoulder she’d fallen onto quite as directly. “He said I’m not allowed to do any work for the rest of the day.”

Evan swallowed hard.

“He asked me how old I was, earlier, before I messed up.”

“That bastard,” Evan breathed. “After Nyla went to him, and he told her he’s not gonna fuck us, now he’s gonna--!”

“I’ll be fine, Ev,” Lilah cut him off, not wanting to rile him up. An angry Evan was a stupid-as-all-shit Evan. “You and Grey always made it out the other end. I’ll be okay.” Even if the thought was terrifying. Even if putting those particular pieces together made her want to go glass eyed and Quiet. 

Evan lifted her and hugged her fiercely, and she hugged back, wrung out and exhausted, now that all her adrenaline was spent. She wished she had the ability to not-exist. Even just for a little while.

“Um, y-you two,” Sasha said, nudging the door open with her hip. Two plates were on the tray she carried, and both of them frowned in confusion.

“Sasha?”

“I’m, uh, in ch-charge of making sure e-everyone e-eats, now. M-Master changed the r-rules.”

Lilah took a plate Sasha extended to her, and so did Evan, both of them baffled. “W-we have t-to eat three t-times a day, n-now. Minimum. He said--said it was my job. A-and to feed you, if yo-you’re hungry between m-meals, too.”

Evan snarled, but it melted away into gloomy simmering pretty quick. “Guess that’s one way to see how quickly we can dance to his tune. Starve us for days then turn the rules on their heads.”

“M-maybe he’s, being nice?” Sasha suggested, sounding almost hopeful, and Evan leveled her with a flat look. Lilah subtly punched him in the thigh.

“Who knows. You go eat too, Sasha,” Lilah said, and Evan sighed when the door clicked closed.

“Can’t figure that bastard out,” he muttered, digging into the food.

When he left, he took Lilah’s plate with him, and she was left alone in the family bed, tired but unable to fall asleep in the middle of the day. So her mind went mercifully, wonderfully Quiet.

Next

[the-lady-bryan]

Weird Dream - Oct. 15, 2021 - i was steve rogers but i wasn’t but i really was?

And it went a little something like this...

So there I am, apparently taking a plane on a nose dive into the drink. Kinda hard to miss the fact that the woman on the radio is calling me Steve so, yeah. Guess who I happen to be in this dream.

Next thing I know, I’ve been yeeted out of my body. Now, I’ve read enough Reaperzilla Challenge HP fics to know this isn’t gonna go well when the reaper that yeeted me from my body suddenly is like “oh shit, the body’s not dying..... shit shit shit. the paperwork said to yeet you before the body shut down. Since you were one of the mostly good guys, kinda like a reward. quick and painless. but shit. the body’s not dying so technically you’re not dead and fuck fuck fuck.”

So I get dragged along, no longer big beefy captain america but once again tiny smol bean boi Stevie. Asthma and all. And I’m being dragged along because the reaper’s like “if the body won’t die, you can’t be processed but we can’t just shove you back in there and.... shit. i am so fired...” and i find out this is the poor reaper’s first week on the job, too. i kinda feel bad for the guy.

so he takes me to his boss, which is apparently Death itself. And she’s like “hm.... yes. i see the problem.... i’m going to have to take this Higher Up.” so me and this reaper are left in her office. just kinda.... waiting. Death goes to Higher Up and Higher Up is like “....nope. there’s no loopholes. he’s stuck this way. if the body won’t die, and we can’t shove him back in because he’s been reaped, well... I suppose I’ll have to take this to Highest Up.” so DEATH HERSELF is left waiting in Higher Up’s office.

Higher Up comes back soon with a piece of paper that just says “i work in strange and mysterious ways.”

this is followed up by a second Internal Office memo that just says “Reincarnate.”

So Death comes back to her office and is like “Okay so.... apparently there’s a plan in the works but like fuck we’ll ever be told what it is. official word is process him for another cycle.”

and the reaper is like “But.... but he’s not actually dead....” and Death is like “Word on High says Reincarnate. So we reincarnate.” and i’m just sitting there like “.....uh...... i’m right here.” and they’re like “we know.”

so i get dragged across a building and shown to a door before being shoved in. next thing i know, i’m shouting and crying and pooping and hungry all the fucking time. apparently me, pre-serum looking steve rogers’ soul has just been born again. quite literally.

so jumpcut to 2010, i’m hauling my scrawny, non-asthematic ass clear across the Stark Expo because “holy fucking jesus christ killer robots!” when all i wanted to do was go out for a nice evening on a day off from my shift at some restaurant where i bus tables and do dishes all fucking day and night, and maybe snap some cool photos of stuff. but no. iron man had to piss someone off and have killer robots after him.

jump cut to two years later, i’m at work at a different job this time, a bookstore, when goddamn aliens come crashing in through the windows.

after THIS chaos i’m like “fuck this. i’m moving. there is just too much crazy shit in New York these days.” so i quit and i move to Washington DC.

and guess where i get a job? in one of the places that gets damaged by the god damn Project Insight helecarriers.

So now i’m like “fuck this. i’m going to europe. shit like this doesn’t happen in europe.”

it’s while taking a gap year to backpack across europe that i end up meeting a very confused and very dangerous looking man with a metal arm. and he’s just.... following me around. so my ass thinks “oh, i’ve got a stalker. great. if i wanted to die a horrible painful death i’d have stayed in brooklyn.”

anyway, i woke up when the metal arm man finally caught up with me but before he could say anything because my damn alarm went off.

i hope i have that dream again. it was weird and i was still annoyed with Iron Man when i woke up.

[tbkdoesfandom]

Sproggle headcanons with a side of science?

So I stumbled upon the idea of 'sproggle from' @lotors-saltwife and @blackmoonbabe and I fell down a hole because #science, so here ya go. I ship both Shallura and Lotura so I've divided these up according to ship...

(and if anyone can tell me how to incorporate a 'read more' break while using markdown, save my life and hit my inbox)

Science

A quick briefing on the human menstrual cycle, because science

There are two phases, follicular and luteal, with ovulation in the middle

Follicular phase starts the day of your period, which is considered Day 1 of your cycle

A number of egg-containing follicles will mature, until one or sometimes more will be released during ovulation

Once menstruation is complete and you're no longer experiencing cramps or low energy, the follicular hormones usually mean you'll feel pretty strong and in top health

Essentially your body is preparing itself to get pregnant, so it wants you to feed good and get frisky

Ovulation means release of an egg from the follicle into the fallopian tubes

This is controlled by a complex interplay of chemicals, but basically, you get a massive SPIKE of hormones

Thus in addition to the friskiness and extra energy many people notice around ovulation, you can actually 'feel hormonal' here just as much as in PMS or while menstruating

It just typically doesn't last as long

Luteal phase is the one many of us hate

Progesterone (and to a lesser degree, oestrogen) levels start increasing after ovulation to trigger thickening of the uterus lining and prepare your body for implantation of the fertilised egg

If implantation doesn't happen, those hormones rapidly decrease, which causes mood changes

The drop in hormones triggers the breakdown of the uterine lining, which means cramps and bleeding

Now, to sproggle. I'm assuming here

Happens yearly based on the Altean calendar, probably in Autumn or Spring depending on how fast Altean gestation is (assuming you want to give birth in Spring)

Based on the earth calender it happenes... let's say every one-and-a-half years, but not precisely

So it would move about according to the human calendar

Each stage probably lasts a week, maybe a week and a half

Symptom severity would depend on physical health - sleep, diet, exercise - plus genetic and random fluctuations in hormones and the body's response to them

Allura is totally on top of this shit, she is THAT FRIEND who talks about their period

She has a fancy tracker so she can predict the timing and stages more accurately than just with a calendar

This helps her to be self-aware of her emotional changes so she doesn't have those days where you think you're dying but it's just your hormones

Hunk and Pidge designed it using a hormone sensor of some kind, probably breath-based

Under Coran's guidance re: Altean biology

These things used to be readily available on Altea, but obviously that source no longer exists

Allura's sproggle is also incorporated into Voltron and coalition strategy meetings without any fuss

Allura is very open, there's no body-shaming with this Princess

Just a part of life isn't it

we're at war here, lets have as few surprises as possible

Most parts of the galaxy have experience with a local species for whom this is a factor

There's training modules on it in diplomatic training

It would seem weird NOT to include it in their planning

BOM is pretty helpful here because they deal with hormonal cycles in a lot of different species, including hybrids

Headcanon that Galra males are the ones with cycles, much milder but also more frequent, somewhere on par with human cycles

Chief Dad of Marmora Kolivan is therefore all over that shit

He has spreadsheets

It never occurs to anyone to suppress sproggle, because why would you want to?

Voltron is a team, and the paladins and Coran can take on tasks when Allura needs them to

Allura is highly trained both physically and mentally - she's entirely capable of switching into combat mode during emergencies

Parts of it are also pretty fun, why would you miss out on that?

Stages of Sproggle: Shallura

Follicular

Allura's second-favourite stage

Allura can usually whip the paladin's butts in training, but she gets a week or so of super strength during sproggle

This is actually how the paladins find out about it the first time

Allura goes to block an attack by Pidge and accidentally yeets her across the room

'Do that again!'

Keith likes this stage, its a chance to train for fights with extra-strong opponents

Some of his BOM friends will just 'happen' to swing by for training on these days

Especially as the years pass and Allura becomes an incredibly strong warrior even out of sproggle

(I saw some excellent art of a stacked allura with body hair the other day and I loved it but I've lost it, if you know the thing send me the thing?)

One cycle Allura reaches truly epic levels of strength and Kolivan suddenly finds the BOM base deserted

He turns up intending to rip them all a new one

Ends up taking on Allura one-on-one

She puts him on his ass and he just roars with laughter, because it's been a very long time since that happened

Ovulation

Allura's favourite stage

Shiro tries, he really does

Allura might be much stronger than him and have far better endurance than he does, but goddamnit, Shiro was the Champion

If there's anyone who should be able to keep up with her, it's him

Also he loves Allura, he loves her body, he loves loving her.

But even Shiro the Hero gets tired

One particularly strong cycle Pidge finds him working in a closet

'I just needed a moment to actually get something done'

Pidge brings him coffee and a book, goes and distracts Allura with a training session

By the end of this stage Shiro isn't even trying to get work done, he just ends up taking long naps underneath all the pillows Allura has collected for her nest

Allura lets him sleep and goes to take a loooong shower

Luteal

The garrison trio quietly refer to this as Hulk week

Very fucking quietly

This is not a good time to play practical jokes

Or for teasing

Sarcasm and subtlety are completely lost on Hulk Allura

The first time Allura sproggled with the paladins around, Keith told Allura she looked tired

Honestly he meant well, he thought she needed a nap

He ended up fleeing to Red for protection

Red was about ten seconds from busting through the wall anyway

'Come out here instead of hiding behind your lion and we'll see who's tired'

*roaring in the background, accompanied by hysterical laughter from the other paladins*

I'm inclined to think that Altean PMS is actually legendary

'You have two options, surrender or face our Altean Princess in the middle of Oestrus'

'Go loose, Princess'

The BOM probably be like, can we borrow the Princess?

Voltron gets a week off, Allura's got this

(thank god, because Shiro's still recovering)

Lance is all over this stage

He's got loads of family, he probably tracked his friends' cycles at the Garrison

He knows how to tell when Allura is genuinely upset and when her hormones have blindsided her

He knows how to gently steer her into a more mindful place without guilting her over something she can't control

Interesting sidethought if she's anything like me, the day or so before menses start Allura's probably clumsy enough to kill someone by accident.

Menstruation

Coran keeps the infirmary well stocked with migraine meds, heat pads, and medicinal tea

The Alteans had an excellent, mess-free, practical and simple means of dealing with menstruation, and the castle is very well stocked because they're an essential medical device (down with the tampon tax folks)

Allura actually is horrified the first time Pidge comes to her to ask for tampons

'You use WHAT?'

So Pidge and Coran modify one of the Altean devices for Earth biology

Pidge is entirely 'Fuck the patriarchy' so she loves this

Takes it back to earth when she finally visits

Changes everyone's life

Hunk's favourite stage because he gets to fuss over Allura with heat pads and blankets and tea

He's also the only one who can use spices well enough to make something allura can stomach on mornings where she's super sensitive to smell, or when she's feeling nauseous

Has an entire binder of recipes using copper-rich food (Altean blood uses copper to bind oxygen instead of iron)

Also Shiro's favourite stage, actually

He gets such good snuggles and he's been touch starved so he loves snuggles

He's basically a walking heat pad

I mean with all that muscle mass he's going to radiate body heat its science

He's also incredibly good at back rubs

All of the paladins like the tail end of the cycle when Allura gets super chill and lovey

The whole cycle is kind of a chance to evaluate their relationships with each other, see if anything particularly sensitive came up during Luteal, do some self-work

It becomes a tradition to express gratitude towards each other

The whole thing is kinda like space thanksgiving, but with a lot more sex and fighting

Stages of Sproggle: Lotura

Follicular

Lotor is a space scientist and has a very keen sense of smell so he's likely to realise what's going on even before the tracking device

He actually keeps a tally of how many times he beats the tracker

Not competitive. at. all.

Makes the most of this stage, when Allura has time and is willing, by having her fight upstart idiot generals in the arena to put them in their place

No-one's going to think Altean blood is lesser once they've been wupped by Allura

Lotor's the one to discover that her alchemical abilities are heightened during this stage

Which leads to him seeking out other species with similar hormones to see if they have similar abilities

Ovulation

Lotor's reaction varies depending on what stage of his own cycle he's on

Male Galran Follicular equivalent: Extra strength? Extra endurance? We can put this to use.

Male Galran Ovulation equivalent: No-one sees them for a week

Male Galran luteal and menses equivalents: Thank god for the engineering corps because 'Allura, darling I simply can't'

The generals, particularly Ezor, think this stage is fucking hilarious Emperor Lotor doesn't know the meaning of delegate, except for this week

'We'll deal with that ourselves, Lotor's busy '

Luteal

Trashing sentries

Victory or death

Zethrid loves this stage

Wants to take Allura to get into Galran bar fights but Lotor will never allow it

'The civil war was bad enough'

Menses

The smell of blood actually makes Lotor uber-protective

If Allura's anywhere near him at this stage, no matter where he is in his own cycle, he turns totally feral

Decapitated a sentry once, which was when they decided Allura would stay on the castleship at this stage in future

Because he can't be there, Lotor sends her a small army of sentries to tend to her every need

Flowers, pillows, her favourite space delicacies

Axca is sent to stay with Allura to be Lotor's eyes and ears

Takes her duties very seriously, but secretly enjoys it when the mice braid her hair, which is why Allura makes sure to always request her presence

Extras

I see a lot of potential for Shalotor/Shlotura here

Some science: there is interesting evidence for people preferring uber-masculine, strong and physical types during the fertile period, because any offspring would be more likely to have those genes and survive, and then preferring kinder or slightly more feminine types after that because they're less likely to get jealous and eat the offspring, and more likely to want to protect said offspring

Open to discourse on who would be which, Shiro or Lotor or both

I also just love the idea of its the end of the week and the Emperor and the Champion are having a hushed argument about whose 'day it is' and 'dammit Lotor you're the immortal space vampire' 'I'm out of Gatorade Shiro'

[theskyexists]

Revolution of the Daleks

im actually really happy with this, Yaz not being able to let go. Ryan and Graham having practice. i could wish a million things had happened with Ryan (!) and Graham before but this is as good as it’s gonna get from this point

i like the way they’re trying to imitate the Doctor explicitly

‘this is hard, innit?”

‘have you had work done?’ ‘you can talk!’ (that sounded so Nine and Jack!!! hahahaa) edit: it was litearlly Ten and Jack

reference!

DOCTOR AND JACK HUG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Leo......is a very cynical representation of an amoral scientist.

How the hell is Trump-analogue the sane one here lolololol. but he’s dumb enough to leave incinerating the thing to Leo.

what an idiot - opening the casing. im not really into how the narrative is basically like: trump is right about stupid scientists! hah...

the banter between jack and the doctor is so good? imitation of the original product clearly but still GOOD

love how the Doctor instantly goes - i need to go see the fam

she was in space jail for decades (she doesn’t mention the decades)

THAT MOMENT OF MATERIALISATION WAS SO GOOD

noooooooooooooooo OUCH - ouch! YAZ!

‘im sorreh’

SHE DOESN’T MENTION HOW SHE’S BEEN LOCKED IN PRISON FOR FUCKING DECADES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my god Doctor. give them some perspective PLEASE

Jack’s ‘whoops’ is hilarious if you consider his history with teh Doctor

Ryan - god i love Ryan.

Actually didn’t like Graham’s response to Jack. narratively, homophobic

absolutely despise the orange lettering

this episode really goes to show that Chibnall thinks structurally extremely slowly. he picks threads up from ages ago. and then he does do something decent with it. does this mean that the longer he keeps on the better it will get?

i think it’s pretty fuckin hilariously sad though that the companions are once again relegated to couriers - they note that they can’t do stuff on their own (even though the season finale last time gave them ‘Doctor-like’ sequences even if they never managed to impact the story of the Doctor herself - so i guess we’ve gone backwards in this arc) and then they CAN’T do stuff on their own and the Doctor comes in

it’s not the Doctor OR the companions Chibs. and if these companions are just incapable - make that a point! that would be a wonderful contrast to Clara

Woah Jack fuckin infodump

aahahhaa

i do love Yaz’s response. this seems to build up to some final DESERVED - i need to know MORE doctor - now.

‘oh she’s good’ - that’s such a RTD thing to say. chibs just directly copy-pasting a lot here. this is acceptable if he can give it new meaning. inverse meaning

why even drop two people off - whats the Doctor gonna do - nothing?

i actually like the new dalek design very much. oh confront Robertsen? i still can’t get used to the explicit task division set-up - even if this time it was used for characterisation

i - adore. this talk between Jack and Yaz. because it’s Yaz accessing so much shit from the Doctor’s past suddenly. and then it becomes extra clear that Jack’s and the Doctor’s connection was kinda romantic in whatever way - and it’s directly paralleled with Yaz. that romantic tragic attachment - doomed to hurt. (i.e. my fav)

god mandip gill is yeeting this out of the park. I LOVE IT. i love these lines. ‘we’re the lucky ones yaz’ - graham also told her something like this in demons of the punjab.

‘the joy, is worth the pain’ - is it? Jack thinks so - still! my god.that’s so tragic - so beautiful. so much rtd feel here.

jezus chibnall - fuckin sonic gun even???? ‘thanks, that’s it??’ hahahahaha. ok you did good. nobody’s ever impressed at it. LOL DAMN YAZ

‘they’re growing daleks’ - this secondary reveal doesn’t matter bc no reveal would have been a genuine reveal anyway

the new prime minister givin her speech and the doctor explaining daleks should have had snappier editing - specifically the music should not have gone back to simple british empire horns or whatever- but should have had an undertone of dalek in there

really! ALIEN REFERENCES! MY GOD CHIBNALL!!! everybody was thinking it but you did it.... i guess it’s done now. sexual politics wise i’d say Robertsen might have been a much better choice.

guns and explosives will solve everything!!!!!! oh chibnall

i love this lil talk between Ryan and teh Doctor - because it goes to show that the Doctor actually really cared. it would be fitting if they all left now actually lol - that would be nice and dramatic. Jodie is doing great on the acting here - i can FEEL the warning messages in her brains going AAAAAAAAAAA im losing this one!!!!

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Ryan - oh finally - finally this is coming out. calling her out, ‘how do you feel about that’‘  - the counsellor

‘things change, all the time, and they should, cos they have to’ - oh ffffff and ryan inverts things on her. oh i would have loved that if they’d done the extensive groundwork for it. now it just feels like a final death knell - the Doctor paternalised in classic Doctor words by her pseudo-son (but not really bc we never got it for real). couldn’t chibnall have left that for a dude actor ....

i love Jodie’s acting here my GOD. the mouth, the thin lips. The Doctor’s thinking - ah ive lost him - he doesn’t need me at all. ‘always’ this is Ryan’s motif actually. Yaz said the same thing about him.

LOL and Leo reveals himself only when the bombs have been planted and the Doctor’s arrived

lol ok that’s a pretty grisly reveal chibs, BUT would have been cooler if Yaz somehow found out herself and not through villain exposition. Robertsen really is VERY good comic relief here ‘this is a pr disaster’

that was actually a GOOD use of the Doctor going hmmm what’s wrong here and Yaz going well maybe this

ok but because chibnall has such dumb and obvious twists all the time it makes the Doctor always look dumb for slowly stumbling through a self-deprecating  explanation. the least authoritative doctor ever my god.... like she could feel the shock to her system coming and that’s why she was born so un-self-assured. hate that shit. not what i wanted

the recon dalek used ultra viiolet light to teleport. lol. but then the Doctor is too late to stop it. hmm a bit uh..........idk conflicted about all the poc getting exterminated at the border...is this irony???

so how is the Dalek electrocuting Leo with nothing but a shitty slime body? also don’t like that. especially because Robertsen is getting away scot free again probably

‘no weapons’ (what about the bombs - couldn’t jack have interjected with knowledge on that shit - before the daleks teleported mysteriously????) ‘no time to think’ - Doctor i thought it was established that you could think at 3000 miles per fraction of a second.

forget it. forget it forget it forget it. chibnall and I will never agree on this. if the Doctor hits rock bottom here - then it better be a companion that picks her back up. nope, she gets back up herself. best job they’ve done so far on that i admit but then they cut immediately to a leisurely discussion as people are getting gunned the fuck down in the streets.

ah, shes inviting the original fleet to destroy these daleks which are ‘corrupted’

why..................did they explain the whole plan before it happened. WHY. OH WHY! is Chibnall so structurally BORING!!!!!!!!!!!!

this would have WORKED as a GOOD twist if he’d made it an actual fucking TWIST. please chibs....let me at the scripts....please....

the stakes are also not well-established because none of the companions said: oh shit but we could barely get rid of ONE, now there’s thousands!

‘they shouldn’t know im here’ *materialises TARDIS right in front of hundreds of Daleks*

this whole scene between the two sets of Daleks would have been great if we hadn’t been spoiled

is................Robertsen gonna pay for his arrogance - ignoring the Doctor? or is the Doctor’s ineffective ‘get back here’ going to be the last we see of this. Betraying the Doctor?

Chibs if you dont make this guy pay i will give up

Ryan stepping up to save Earth. hmmhm.

Jack: w-wait are you okay with this?

Jack she’s been sending these idiots in without supervision for no reason for ages. she just did it with Yaz?? but its a nice era-contrast - even if the meaning is muddled

So i guess Jack’s just got hundreds of bombs on him? at all times?

who the fuck doctors the script

why............did Chibnall regress Graham’s and Ryan’s relationship into awkwardness in their final episode. that’s just plain sad.

inversely, NOW would have been good to know the second plan because then we would have known why the Daleks knowing about the Doctor is bad SPECIFICALLY

‘even if we blow up the ship, theres still SAS daleks marauding through earth’s skies’ she says, like she wasn’t supposed to have a plan to stop them ??????

‘right’ she said, walked off, and then didn’t think of a plan

‘orrr.... you’re gonna have to trust me on this one Yaz’

this is such a TERRIBLE and unsubtle and stupid way to segue into discussing the Doctor’s problems with disappearing

WHY IS CHIBNALL HAVING THEM SAVE ROBERTSEN - fuck this! FUCK THIS!

wow - that’s really shit of the Doctor - just telling a TARDIS to destroy itself completely......

really chibnall.....really you’re gonna let this man get away LIKE THIS. I’m done. i’m done. im sorry but this is not something to just PLAY with. letting a Trump guy get the better of the female Doctor not once, but twice? this makes me so sad. and im done. it’s just insult after insult. he just doesn’t GET it. this is too close to my heart. this is not a GAME. this is supposed to be a  fucking POWER FANTASY - and he can’t even fucking make it that. he can’t discuss the problems with power because he can’t even FATHOM the Doctor as a power fantasy in this form. fuck. this.

‘can you believe that’ - ‘yeah i can’

thanks - thanks for this political hopelessness on top of the real shit Chibnall. that’s not what Doctor Who is about - that’s the starting point - not the fucking end state

i know it’s supposed to be related to Ryan and how it’s quite subtly about making the world a better place politically bc it’s going to hell - and Robertsen is definitely coming back because chibnall just does that shit

but

if he wanted to do that he should have had Ryan and Robertsen have a confrontation this episode

a hug. a HUG. my god. so what was the absence of hugs all about then? now im grumpy about THAT. fck

this is good acting, good lines, good normal ending to Graham’s time in the TARDIS, it ties in just a little bit with his family arc. but it’s not particularly coherent - guess that;s life ?

‘it’s ok to be sad’ - cut to black. that was good

so the conclusion is that all they needed to be like the Doctor is a little gadget. this is deeply incoherent but it appeals to me anyway. and i dont really understand how Robertsen features into protecting the planet from aliens then

what is this weird Ryan speech lol. Tosin did incredibly good on making that seem halfway organic.

ok so Grace appearing made me tear up lol