#male and female forms have different alcohol tolerance

[jonathankai]

I love how Shi Qingxuan uses 'female form grants me more power :)' excuse and then proceeds to go to the banquet. Like, girl, what are you even planning to do at the banquet that requires 'more power'????? The only possible explanation is that male form is extremely lightweight while female form drinks wine like it's water. (We know it's not the case.)

[whereisten]

Stupid Cupid

A Taeyong fic that’s a part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: Cupid, also known as Taeyong, has never experienced real love. But when he meets you, he may finally have a chance.

Pairing: Cupid! Taeyong x female reader

Genre: romance, angst, fluff, smut, fantasy

Word Count: 13k

Warnings: oral (male receiving), penetration, breast fondling, cursing, alcohol use

(A/N: thank you guys so much for being so sweet and understanding and patient. I’ve always believed Halloween should be a celebration for multiple months out of the year and since the Halloween series is ongoing, it works 💀. Anyways, I’m so excited to share this with y’all. ❤️ One of my favorite songs is “Give Me Love” by Ed Sheeran. And the music video features Cupid so I was inspired. 👍🏼 I hope you guys enjoy it! I also was inspired by “The Consequences of Cursing Cupid” by @by-moonflower). I loved it!)

...

Cupid was one of God’s most prized pupils. He was also one of His most beautiful creations. His hair had the shades of pink you’d see at sunset and warm brown eyes that could claim the heart of almost anyone. His tan skin glowed, bringing a piece of heaven’s glow down to earth with him. His body was slender, elegant, and muscular. His true appearance was known to few mortals but overtime, historians were able to conclude that Cupid was as beautiful as any of the archangels.

God entrusted his son to bring love and hope to the world one couple at a time. With his bow and arrow, he was able to give people love every day. As the years have passed, though, the population of the world expanded and Cupid only had so much time in the day to bring couples together. God and Cupid carefully handpicked Cupid fledglings throughout the years. Cupid wasn’t alone in his work anymore and he could afford some downtime every few centuries. It was 2020 and it was time for Cupid, or, as he was known by his earthly name, Lee Taeyong, to take a vacation.

Taeyong arrived in the sunny coastal town of Isla one Sunday morning. He would stay here for a few months. Taeyong would’ve kept working if he hadn't been forced by his coworkers to take a leave of absence. He’d always been a huge workaholic and quite the perfectionist. He was the type of guy who liked to get things done by himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his team. He just had a fixation with doing things his own way, which caused many clashes over the years.

This time, God had to intervene and force Taeyong to step down so that newly realized Cupids like Haechan and Yangyang could step up in his absence. Taeyong moved into a beach house right by the beach. A whole mansion to himself, he grimaced. What the hell was he supposed to do in such an expansive and luxurious place all by himself? Well, he had some ideas.

As much of a workaholic Taeyong was....when he let loose, he really let loose. It was like there was an on/off switch in his brain when it came to his rebellion and since he was out of work for the foreseeable future, it was time to turn the switch on. All work and no play for so many years made him act out in rebellion, which was why God sent Cupids Sicheng and Kun to watch out for Taeyong this time around.

Taeyong heard a knock on the door of his beach house. He frowned in confusion.  

“Knock knock,” Kun said as he brought in suitcases and carried a backpack over his shoulder. Sicheng followed him in with his own bags as well.

Taeyong frowned. “What are you guys doing here?”

Sicheng beamed. “We’re here to make sure you don’t start up another orgy and anger many significant others…”

Kun nodded. “You’ll barely know we’re here.”

Taeyong brought out his angelic smile. “Is that so?”

…

Even with Kun and Sicheng on his tail, Taeyong was able to throw a massive party at the beach house the next night. A pretty face like Taeyong’s and a few likes on Instagram could attract many followers. And with followers, there was a great party. Celebrities even caught wind of the festivities. Taeyong was able to hire caterers and event planners to make the beach house a Hawaiian paradise. Tiki torches were lit all around the house. People lounged in the lagoon-shaped pool. There were party games in every room in the mansion.

Your friends convinced you to come with them to the hot new bachelor’s party. You could use a night out after working another six day work week at the local Isla Humane Animal Shelter. You wanted to let loose and dance with your friends. If only for a little while. Hopefully, you didn’t think about him now that you were able to relax.

Taeyong was having the time of his immortal life, dancing with one girl...one boy...after another. He was already hooking up with people on the dance floor in the backyard that overlooked the beach. He would grind behind one girl while another boy grinded against him from behind. Taeyong was in nothing but red swim trunks. His abs glistened with sweat and-

Your friend Jisoo said, “y/n, ask him to dance.”

You’d spent the last few minutes staring at the dancefloor. You couldn’t help but watch the pretty boy who stood at the center. You quickly gulped down your drink and shook your head. “Pass.”

Jisoo sucked her teeth. “Y/n, you’ve been staring at him for five minutes now.”

You rolled your eyes. “I like to observe my surroundings...It’s nothing.”

“You should ask the pretty boy to dance. It won’t hurt.”

“Nope. I’m fine right here, drinking my free pina colada...Not a care in the world.”

Jisoo replied, “Y/n, it’s been five months...”

You met Jisoo’s eyes. “Yeah, and I’m doing a lot better. You know this. My family knows it. All of the people who should be sorry to follow me on any social media know this.”

Jaehyun joined you two. “She's talking about how she’s over...him?”

Jisoo nodded. “And she clearly wants to dance with The Bachelor over there.”

Jaehyun watched him, also. “Well, for starters, he’s way cuter than that bastard but she should stay away from him. He’s trouble.”

Jisoo scoffed. “Who are you? Her father?”

Relieved that Jaehyun was on your side, you said, “Thank you, Jay! Now don’t worry about me, Jisoo...I’m great! I’m out of the house. I’m cutting a rug.”

Jisoo eyed you. “Okay…”

Now you had to admit that you thought about throwing caution to the wind and dancing close to the man, making ‘come hither’ eyes at him, kissing him in a closet, and calling it a night. The idea made you wet just thinking about it. But you knew yourself. You were the type to fall hard. And you fell hard once and it left you broken to this day.

Anyway, Pretty Boy seemed kind of busy so you turned the other way to join a game of poker in the living room.

Every human that spent an intimate moment with dear old Cupid was guaranteed the best orgasm of their lives. In Taeyong’s hands, his lover would feel treasured and adored and spoiled. Taeyong, a bringer of love, could bring paradise to anyone.

Now in his human form, Taeyong still had some of those divine powers. However, in a human body, he had limitations.

Like his alcohol tolerance, which, unfortunately for him, had never been good.

Before he could take anyone to paradise like he’d longed to do since he came to the Earthly plane, he was outside in his front lawn, vomiting all of the alcohol he downed in the past two hours.

Taeyong felt woozy. He wasn’t all there the moment when you first approached him. He looked awful. Pale and sweaty from puking so much.

Your concern outweighed your fear of talking to him so you approached him. You handed him a bottle of room temperature water and a wet towel from his kitchen so he could clean himself up.

Taeyong uncapped the water bottle and drank. He managed to say, “Thank you.”

You sighed, relieved to see that he was responsive. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am...Thanks…What’s your-”

“Y/n! Time to go,” Jaehyun started. Jaehyun promised to take you home. You were supposed to go into the shelter tomorrow to finalize an adoption.

You shouted back, “Coming!” You turned to your friend. Taeyong couldn’t see your face now. You did smell heavenly, though. Like fresh berries and daisies.

You turned back to Taeyong and smiled. Even if he was a wreck, he was still the most gorgeous male you’d ever seen. “Great party. Take care of yourself.”

Taeyong was still trying to sober up but he was able to meet your eyes, the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen on this planet. In any realm, actually. “You, too…”

You left him there, curious about you. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to ponder further as he threw up again. Maybe these parties were getting old. He always found himself like this whenever he visited good ol’ planet Earth...

…

[One Month Later]

Taeyong continued to indulge in his debauchery, throwing parties every night. Part of him hoped you would return so he could properly thank you for your kindness.

Your eyes were sultry and your scent was intoxicating. He wished he could remember you.

Every night that he spent time with a different partner, he thought of you.

Without any hidden agenda to get in bed with him, you absolutely fascinated him. His clouded judgment that night only made him remember your eyes. That was all he had to go on. He couldn’t explain the need to see you again.

The need grew stronger and stronger.

He certainly couldn’t ask his coworkers or the big man upstairs for help. Surely, they’d misinterpret his actions. He simply wanted to see you again.

In the process, Taeyong slowly began to reevaluate his time on Earth. Like Gatsby before him, he threw even more parties in hopes of you showing up. But he had no idea about your hectic work schedule. The parties continued and Taeyong quickly grew bored. Maybe he needed to get out and explore the city if he ever hoped to see you again.

In the daytime, Taeyong found himself waking up earlier and sending his partners on their merry way. He took up a couple of hobbies at home, as well. Baking and playing games on his Nintendo Switch. For his outings, he’d go to the mall, the grocery store, the amusement park, and more. Everywhere he could think of. But you weren’t there. He had the ability to feel your presence but you were never within his radar and it frustrated him.

Taeyong finished swimming a couple of laps in the pool and went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Kun was making dinner and Sicheng was setting the table.

“Penny for your thoughts, boss?” Sicheng inquired.

Taeyong sighed. “I’m just wondering when you two will finally leave me be.”

Kun turned off the stove and let the stir fry cool. “When your sexual appetite ceases.”

Taeyong frowned. “Have you no shame to comment on my activities?”

Sicheng and Kun looked at each other and looked back at Taeyong. “No.”

Taeyong sighed. “If you must know, the parties will cease tonight. I have given up.”

“Given up on what?” Sicheng asked.

They couldn’t know about Taeyong’s true motive with his parties. “Parties, of course.”

“Really?” Kun asked as he washed his hands.

Taeyong sighed. “Yes. Now let’s eat.”

A few hours later, Taeyong went to the beach to get some sun. A few girls asked for his number and he simply pretended not to know English. He spoke Japanese and spoke broken English to throw them off. He was in no mood to frolick. He was frustrated.

It was because of you. He couldn’t explain it but he desperately wanted to see you. Wanted to know you. Wanted to feel you come alive under him as he pleased you. And he had no leads.

Maybe he should just throw in the towel. It was dangerous for him to entertain the idea of seeing someone as more than just a fling. Knowing his one night stand’s name was more information than he needed.

Perhaps you weren’t real. Oh, heavens. He knew you were real but maybe he should convince himself of the contrary so he could give up on you.

Meanwhile, you’d been busy non-stop. You couldn’t go out and unwind because of your extremely-packed schedule, which was just how you liked it. Whatever free time you had was spent at home curled up in bed before bedtime. It was how you preferred it, though. It helped you get over your ex much more quickly. Or so you thought, anyway.

One of your co-workers at the shelter was an adoption counselor who had a family event she needed to attend. So she asked you for a favor. You came in for the afternoon shift to help pair up families with pets.

You loved working at the shelter, helping animals find their forever homes. It broke your heart to see so many of them, neglected and homeless. You always knew you wanted to work with animals, though. In high school, you started at the shelter as a volunteer. Now, you were one of the managers. You helped with fundraisers and outreach events to get the shelter animals’ faces out there.

You went to check on the dogs, cats, rabbits, ferrets, and other residents of the shelter, like you always did. Then, you finished adopting out an Australian Shepherd. His new family already adored him. The shelter’s adoption process was strict so if a family really wanted to commit to a pet, they had to commit to the process to prove it. So you had high hopes that this adoption would be permanent.

On the off chance it wouldn’t, these animals always had a home here. You wouldn’t cease until you did everything you could to get a home for each animal that walked through the shelter’s front doors.

You took a picture of the happy family to post on the shelter’s social media. You sent them off. You felt like you were being watched so you turned to the front window where you recognized Jaehyun and the pink-haired man from the Hawaiian paradise party. They were talking like they knew each other.

You frowned and walked outside to greet them. “Jaehyun?”

The men faced you. Jaehyun beamed, “Y/n! I was passing through and I ran into Taeyong here who is looking to volunteer at the shelter.” Taeyong was about to cut in when Jaehyun continued. “Is there a volunteer orientation today?”

You shook your head. “It’s tomorrow, Jay.”

Taeyong just looked at you, not saying a word.

You tilted your head in confusion. “But...If you’re free, Taeyong, we’d love to have you.”

Jaehyun answered for him. “Of course he is. There’s no other place he’d rather be!”

Taeyong shot Jaehyun a look but his face softened as he looked at you. “Yeah...He’s right about that.”

Still confused, you smiled. “Okay, tomorrow it is.”

Taeyong headed home after his confrontation with the meddlesome Jaehyun. Just who was he to you, he wondered. How dare he cross a god?

Sure, Jaehyun was a beautiful specimen but he was not at his level, Taeyong thought to himself.

[A Few Hours Ago]

After his time at the beach, Taeyong took another stroll through the town, exploring small businesses and stumbling upon an animal shelter.

Through the front window, he saw a family with their Australian Shepherd. And that’s when his radar switched on. His heart squeezed and his breathing faltered. You were here. You greeted the family inside. They posed for a family photo together with their dog. They held a sign that read “Furrever Home” on it. The family thanked you and you sent them off.

You were exquisite. Your smile. The glimmer of hope in your eyes. Your laugh. You were out of breath from running around so much and from the excitement, he could tell. Even though you were stressed and tired, you were happy at that moment. You turned toward his direction and he read your name on your name tag: y/n.

Taeyong wanted to rush in and call for your name but his feet were planted to the ground.

“Hey, I remember you,” someone called out to him.

Taeyong snapped out of his daze and turned to find a handsome young man with black hair frowning at him. Taeyong started. “I’m sorry. I don’t-“

“You’re Taeyong. You throw parties at that beach house and you’re the city’s most eligible bachelor. It’s all over social media.”

“Yes, and?”

The stranger glared as he nodded at you through the window. “You’ve been watching her, haven't you?”

Taeyong smirked. “And what about it?”

The man looked down at Taeyong’s pants where his member betrayed him. Jaehyun lifted his eyebrows.

Taeyong shrugged. “It’s rude to stare at a stranger’s crotch.”

He laughed. “You’re pretty easy to read, Taeyong. But I gotta warn you: don’t waste her time if you’re not fully committed.”

Taeyong laughed. “And who are you to tell me this?”

“Someone who refuses to see his friend’s heart broken again.”

Again, Taeyong wondered. “Well, I have no plans to let it get that far.”

He rolled his eyes. “Right.”

“Jaehyun?” You started.

Then, the conniving Jaehyun set Taeyong up to be a volunteer at the animal shelter without his consent. Well, Taeyong could’ve said no at any time but he didn’t want to disappoint you. Besides, this would be an opportunity to get to know you. Jaehyun may not be so bad, after all, Taeyong mused.

Jaehyun left Taeyong with these parting words. He grinned, showing his dimples. “If you hurt her, I will run you out of this town.”

Taeyong smiled. “I’d like to see you try.”

To anyone else, it would’ve seemed like two friends were parting ways but in reality, it was more like a declaration of war.

Your friend Jaehyun was very protective of you, Taeyong realized. He wondered if Jaehyun was enamored with you. And your nickname of “Jay” for him made Taeyong’s stomach turn.

Who was he to you? And why was he butting in on Taeyong’s pursuit of you? And what did Jaehyun mean by you getting your heart broken again? Who broke your heart? And why was he still breathing, unless Jaehyun failed to mention your ex’s funeral?

Taeyong wasn’t going to break your heart. He wasn’t that stupid. He spent enough time on this planet to set boundaries and never fall in too deep with a human.

It didn’t matter if you made him feel different than any other human has after twenty seconds of an interaction.

…

[The Next Day]

Taeyong wasn’t sure how he would feel about working with animals because he’s never interacted with them before. He envied any family who had a pet, though.

It was a kind of love he didn’t get to see frequently. His job was primarily focused on romantic love so it always fascinated him to see familial love, love between friends, and now love between man and man’s best friend.

You led the volunteer orientation. It was a relatively full house. You gave the new recruits the rundown on maintenance, walking the dogs, socializing with the animals, feeding, laundry, and safety. Taeyong was so impressed by how skilled and informative you were at work. You were a no-nonsense girl when you needed to be.

When the orientation ended, Taeyong lingered behind in the staff meeting room. You had to admit that seeing Taeyong again made your heart do weird things. You’d dreamed of him for a few nights and part of you wished you could’ve gone to another one of his parties. Your friends told you he’d thrown so many this past month that they lost count. So you were shocked to see this wealthy party boy at an animal shelter of all places. You did notice as you gave your talk that his eyes never strayed from yours.

After the orientation, you began, “Hey, Taeyong. How did you like the orientation?”

He smiled. “You were brilliant.”

Your face heated up. “Thanks.”

He asked, “I was wondering if you were free tonight to-“

A volunteer popped in. “Y/n, code leash with Ruby!” Code leash meant a dog was loose in the shelter without a leash on.

You started. “Oh, God. Sorry, Taeyong, I have to help catch one of our dogs.”

You looked distressed so Taeyong decided to help. He didn’t know where this altruism came from but it was there. “I can help.”

“Thank you. I have to warn you, though. She’s not friendly with most people. So be careful.”

You and Taeyong teamed up to catch Ruby while some of the other volunteers also teamed up elsewhere. Ruby had hidden under one of the benches near the cat corner of the shelter.

Ruby was a Papillon, also known as a Continental Toy Spaniel. She was a reserved dog. She was adopted as a puppy but when she was a year old, her owners gave her up for adoption when they were expecting a baby. With the betrayal she’d experienced, she closed herself off from most people and most animals. It took a few weeks for her to warm up to you.

Ruby had cute ears that resembled a butterfly’s, which explained the name of her breed, the Papillon.

With her leash in your hands, you crouched down to greet her. “Hi, Ruby…”

She surprised you by running over to Taeyong, who froze in his tracks. Ruby jumped against his legs and cried. She wanted his attention.

You looked at them in shock. Ruby had never taken so quickly to someone before. You were impressed.

Taeyong’s eyes doubled in size as he slowly backed up. Ruby continued to jump against his legs, regardless. “What’s happening? Is she trying to kill me?”

You fought back a laugh. “No...She wants you to hold her.”

He looked mystified. “Uh...I’ve never…”

“You’ve never…?”

For the first time, he looked shy. “I’ve never held a dog before…”

You approached them and called Ruby again. “Ruby, I’ll help you.”

You picked Ruby up and guided Taeyong. “Just raise your arms and cradle her. It’s okay.”

You handed Ruby to Taeyong and he was shocked at this new feeling he felt in his chest. It was this overwhelming joy and worry and affection he’d never felt. He would die for this dog.

Well, if he could die, he would.

So this is what familial love must be like.

Ruby licked him all over his face and he giggled like a little boy.

You were overjoyed to see Ruby with another person. This was promising. “She really likes you. It took me weeks to get her to warm up to me.”

Taeyong stared at you. “Really? I can’t imagine that…”

“You saved the day, Taeyong. Not bad for your first day as a volunteer.” You laughed.

You led him and Ruby back into her room. You stepped into her small room where she resided alone. She had a big fluffy bed and toys to play with. Even so, it could definitely get cramped in there after a few hours. You would take her for a walk later.

Taeyong asked, concerned. “She lives by herself? She must be so lonely.”

You told Taeyong her story and he understood her circumstances. He was furious at Ruby’s previous owners and he finally understood why places like this shelter existed.

You said, “She needs someone who will remain faithful to her all of their life. I hope she finds them soon.”

Taeyong rubbed Ruby’s belly. “So do I.”

“I have to get back to work. You’re not on the schedule until tomorrow but you are more than welcome to spend some time with the dogs…”

Taeyong was in his own bubble with Ruby.

You giggled. “Or maybe just Ruby.”

You left them be and got back to work.

Taeyong spent the next hour playing with Ruby, taking her for a walk, taking pictures of her, and cradling her to sleep. He hoped to catch up with you later but he couldn’t let go of his attachment to this dog now.

There was something about this town that made him attached to others. First, it was you. Then, it was Ruby.

It was unusual.

Ruby fell asleep and Taeyong checked his phone. He received a text over half an hour ago.

Where are you? Kun says you’re not home :( -Yooa

Crap, he’d forgotten all about Yooa. His “date”.

Taeyong realized he’d be getting earful from Kun later. He texted Yooa he was on his way.

…

[2 Weeks Later]

The first few days were rough for Taeyong because he’d never done manual labor in his life. He was willing to try and with your and other volunteers’ guidance, he was able to pick up on everything quickly. Everyone thought Taeyong was as strange as he was beautiful. They thought he was a sheltered rich boy who was learning how to care for someone else for the first time. Well, they weren’t far off from the truth.

Taeyong volunteered almost everyday at the shelter. He did everything he could possibly do as a volunteer and still had the energy to take the dogs on more walks than required. He was a god, after all. His energy on Earth was higher than that of any normal human’s. He hoped to impress you, too. He tried to ask you out or even for your phone number but you were always busy with shelter tasks. It was very hard to tell if there was a connection between you two.

At the end of each shift, Taeyong always left Ruby for last because she was his favorite shelter animal. “Alright Ruby, today is the day I finally ask y/n out.”

Ruby snoozed in response. Taeyong sighed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

You were the last person to leave the shelter and lock up. Everyone had already left an hour ago but you were finishing up some emails. You found Taeyong waiting outside the door. “Taeyong!”

He waved and smiled, not looking disheveled at all after a full-day shift.

You, on the other hand, could use a shower. “Everything okay?”

Taeyong asked, “Are you free?”

“Uh...”

“I was wondering if you…”

Your eyes as you watched him left Taeyong in nearly almost a trance. The way your hair fell over your eyes when you adjusted your work bag. The breeze caused your perfume to creep into his nose and he had to catch his breath. Even your little yawn after a long day was cute. Damn it.

You started, “Taeyong?”

Taeyong tried to say something but his throat went dry. Why wasn’t he able to say words? He was prepared to say. Come away with me tonight. I’ll take us to dinner and then...Well, it’s your call, y/n.

And here he was, his palms sweaty. His cheeks were red. He was so close to trembling from the new anxiety that crept up on him.

You asked, “Are you okay?”

Taeyong shook his head to shove his fears away. “Are you free?”

He invited you over to his house for dinner as a thank you for showing him the ropes around the shelter. You felt bad for assuming that he was asking you out. It appeared that he wanted to keep this platonic and you were relieved.

You’re a chicken, Taeyong thought to himself. The ball was in his court and he missed his shot to take things further with you. Even so, you’d said yes so all in all, you two were headed somewhere.

You followed Taeyong in your car over to his place. You entered the extravagant beach house, which was surprisingly neat and homey. The furniture looked comfortable, like you could easily fall asleep on it. The lighting was at a low, almost romantic setting. The house was tranquil and all you could hear was the crash of waves in the distance.

Taeyong said, “Please take a seat. Make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you some wine?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.”

Taeyong smiled warmly at you before he departed for the kitchen.

Another young man appeared as he came down the stairs, calling out. “Sicheng and I will be back in a few days. Our Lord needs us in Beijing for an emergency match-up.” He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and merely stared at you. “Seriously, another ‘appointment’?”

Taeyong darted out of the kitchen. “Kun.”

You got up and waved. “Uh, hi. I’m Taeyong’s friend, y/n. From the animal shelter?”

Sicheng joined the group. “Friend?”

Kun’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re just friends with him?”

You looked at everyone around the living room. “Yes…”

Although you had to wonder what Kun meant by “appointment”. If you had to guess, you weren’t the first girl Taeyong brought home. This week.

You knew Taeyong was a player from the first night you met him. But you were attracted to him so the possibility of a one night stand with him didn’t repel you. You weren’t about to ask for it, though. You were already going out of your comfort zone, coming over to his house for dinner.

And then...Taeyong’s personality surprised you these past few weeks. He was warm and hard-working and kind. You had to admit you had a little crush on him. You wouldn’t let that truth see the light of day, though. A player was a player, no matter what.

Sicheng smiled as he greeted you, “Y/n, welcome to our home. I’m Sicheng. Our rude friend right here is Kun. We are Taeyong’s coworkers and roommates.”

“It’s nice to meet you. What is it that you guys do? You mentioned a match-up?”

Taeyong eyed his friends. “They...”

Kun continued, “We...are dating gurus!”

You replied, “I see. So you’re headed to Beijing? That’s exciting!”

The boys told you they worked for a dating website for high-profile people and traveled to countries like China and South Korea to counsel them on dating. It was unheard of and unusual. At least for you, anyway. But it was kind of fascinating. Kun and Sicheng told you that Taeyong had been working nonstop for years now as a dating guru so now he was taking some time off. They excused themselves and headed off to the airport.

You accompanied Taeyong to the kitchen as he cooked some New York strips for the two of you. He refused your help and wanted you to sit down and relax. “I didn’t know you were a dating guru.”

He chuckled nervously. “I don’t really like to talk about it.”

“Oh, well, we don’t have to…We could always talk about something else. Like where you’re from?”

Taeyong chopped some vegetables as he mulled over his answer, avoiding your eyes. How was he going to say he came from Heaven? First of all, it would be ludicrous to you. And second, it sounded like a pickup line that would only stroke his ego. There was no way to win by telling the truth. “Abroad.”

You sipped your glass of wine. He was so vague. “Abroad? Where?”

“My Lor-...father traveled all the time when I was growing up so we always moved. And once I got to work with the dating website, the traveling continued.” Nice save, he thought to himself.

“Oh? Wow, that’s sad, isn’t it?”

Taeyong looked at you. “Sad?”

“I mean, maybe it wasn’t...What I meant was that it must have been difficult getting uprooted all the time. Having to get accustomed to a new place...Only to have to start over somewhere else.”

You had no idea, Taeyong thought. You read him like a book so he had to ask. “How did you know?”

You understood his situation very well. “My dad is a lieutenant general. We’ve moved around a lot until I was eighteen. Come to think of it...Are your parents in the military?”

Taeyong knew he had to come up with something. Quick, he told himself, think of something believable. The first thought that came into his mind was Jurassic Park after he watched it last night. “No...He’s a...paleontologist.”

That was an uncommon job but you were impressed. After all, Jurassic Park was one of your favorite movies. You asked him about the places his dad took him, what dinosaur bones his dad uncovered, and more. Taeyong had to get creative and being dumb about the subject didn’t hinder his case. He claimed that remembering the names of species was impossible for him. You were riveted, regardless. You spent most of the time talking about Jurassic Park, anyway. You told him about Universal Studios’ Islands of Adventure and a Jurassic Park feature located at the park. You suggested you two could go together sometime and Taeyong’s eyes lit up, then. His doe eyes caught you off-guard.

You continued talking about your interests and your pasts. Well, you did. Taeyong had to get a little creative when topics such as his “childhood” and “family” came into conversation. But other than that, he enjoyed having you in his home. You were full of warmth and generosity. You laughed at his jokes and asked him about how he was doing. It left him speechless. He wasn’t sure what you were really thinking or if you were even interested. You were equally unsure and found yourself considering what you’d been fighting since the moment you first laid eyes on him.

Taeyong served dinner. His cooking was incredible. The steak and baked potato were paradise on your taste buds. “Taeyong, oh my God, this is incredible. You should be a five-star chef and open a restaurant.”

Taeyong chuckled. “Thank you, y/n but I’m more of a pastry chef than anything else.”

“What’s your price for a batch of chocolate cupcakes?” You teased.

He smiled. “Free of charge.”

“But?”

“Well, if you were free to watch Jurassic Park 2 with me this week, then I would consider it.”

“I’ll take it.”

Taeyong was excited that you two would see each other outside of work again. Taeyong served you cookie dough ice cream with fudge.

You ate your ice cream. “Thank you so much for inviting me over. I haven’t been able to hang out with friends in a while so this means a lot.”

Friends. Taeyong was a little hurt at your label of him. He thought there was something between you. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to make a move so he forced a smile. “I’m glad we’re friends, too.”

…

[2 months later]

Taeyong continued to volunteer at the shelter. His ego took a nice, deserving blow after you told him you were just friends. He was still happy that he got to spend time with you. You became so close that you spent most of your time with him outside of work. You played video games and watched movies. You also fostered some animals together on the weekends.

Taeyong hadn’t thrown a party or gone to one since he started spending time with you. His phone started lighting up a lot less as the weeks passed. The truth was Taeyong had stopped hooking up with anyone else. He was focused on you. Getting to know you.  

You even told him about your ex Jaemin. You and Jaemin were going strong for 11 months. The biggest player at your university, Jaemin worked hard to get you to say yes to dating him. The romance started off beautifully and ended abruptly when Jaemin said he didn’t want to be unfair to you. The day after the breakup you saw him out with another girl like it was nothing. And a month later, they were engaged to be married. Now, they were married and expecting a child together. It seemed that he genuinely loved his wife. The way he looked at her with such affection the day after he broke up with you. It broke you because that was how you used to look at him. You thought he was the one and up to a certain point, he told you you were the one for him. You wondered how he moved on so quickly to this day.

Since then, you didn’t want to date anyone, much less a playboy. Hook-ups were something you would’ve considered but you were still hurting. Taeyong had been the first boy you looked at in five months but you still weren’t ready. However, now that you two were getting to know each other...Maybe, just maybe…

Taeyong wanted to track down Jaemin and destroy him, break up his family, and kill him. Well, maybe not to that extreme. But he wanted to avenge you for how Jaemin could’ve been so swift in hurting you and moving on like nothing. He had to wonder…

If maybe one of his coworkers had something to do with it. He’d never had a hand in pairing up a Na Jaemin with anyone. If that were the case, he would’ve never forgiven himself for pursuing you.

He finally understood that you were guarding your heart and he didn’t want to push you. He would wait for as long as it takes to…Well, he wasn’t sure...Kiss you? Take you out on a date? He wasn’t sure how romance or courting worked.

It took some convincing but Taeyong finally decided to foster Ruby for the week. He didn’t refuse before because he didn’t want Ruby. He was scared of being ill-prepared for taking care of her or that his house had some hazards for the little dog.

You drove Taeyong and Ruby back to his house. The three of you stood outside his front door. He had Ruby on a leash.

Taeyong started. “Are you sure, y/n? What if Ruby falls in the pool when I go take a shower? What if she chews at my phone charger and gets electrocuted?”

You laughed. “Taeyong, how is she going to get in the backyard? Are her paws going to magically turn into hands so that she can turn the doorknob to the back door?”

“No…”

“So long as you keep her active and give her toys and activities, she will have no reason to chew at your charger or go on an online shopping spree while you’re asleep.”

Taeyong frowned, knowing that you were mocking him now. “Fine. But if anything happens, I’m taking you down with me.”

Your eyes danced. “Fine with me.”

You three went to the beach and Ruby was having fun playing on the shoreline. Taeyong giggled like a little boy as he played fetch with her. You watched them and smiled. It was beyond you why Taeyong wouldn’t adopt Ruby. They clearly loved each other very much. Maybe today you could finally convince him.

You returned to the beach house as you ate ice cream cones from the boardwalk ice cream shop. Ruby ran back inside to drink from her water bowl. You and Taeyong lingered on the outside deck by the pool and watched the sunset. Taeyong’s chocolate ice cream cone was melting at the sides and you regretted not buying chocolate so without thinking, you licked his melting ice cream. Taeyong was caught by surprise and you looked up at him before getting back to your ice cream cone.

The innocent but teasing glint in your eye made him shocked and aroused. He paid a little too much attention to your tongue. As quickly as it appeared, it disappeared. And he longed for it to worship his body.

You winked. “Sorry. You’re a slow eater and it was melting…” You handed him your vanilla ice cream cone. “You can have some of mine.”

He snapped out of it and licked the cone as suggestively as he could to try and get a reaction out of you. And that he did. His big brown eyes had a mischievous glint to them. He smirked. You avoided his eyes completely. “Y/n.”

You bent down and pretended to tie your shoe and realized you weren’t wearing sneakers but sandals. You got back up, embarrassed and still looking away from him. “Yeah?”

“I like you.”

You looked back up at him. “Taeyong-”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I just wanted to say it. At least once.” He liked you for a long time now. The more time he spent with you and went out of his way to be with you every moment he could made him realize that maybe what he longed for with you wasn’t simply one night of pleasure.

He wanted more. He didn’t know exactly what that meant. But he just liked to be with you. Your kindness, your wit, your sense of humor, everything about you made Taeyong feel that heaven could be found in another person.

He didn’t want to push you, not at all. He did wonder about what things would be like if you gave into each other. But he would still wait for as long as it took for you to consider him.

You admitted, “Taeyong, I like you, too.”

He sighed in relief. “Oh, thank heavens. Let’s go out on Friday.” Hundreds of plans were running through his mind of how he wanted to spoil you for your first date. He’d been doing research on where he could take you in the city and debated whether or not a road trip to Universal Studios would be too much.

You smiled in spite of yourself. “That’s so sweet…”

“But?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready...Or if I can trust you...You’re very…experienced.”

Taeyong looked at you in confusion as he finished his ice cream cone. “What do you mean? I’ve never dated.”

“I mean...Sexually…” You muttered the last word. Your face was hot and Taeyong only looked at you like you’d said the sky was blue.

“Taeyong, before we met, you were partying every night and sleeping with multiple people. Are you going to tell me that you’re not that person anymore? Because you know what happened with Jaemin...I don’t want that again. If we are going to take this any further, you have to be honest with me. When you want to end it, show me your heart. Don’t leave me wondering what I did wrong...” He could see your eyes get bigger and redder. They were welling up. Your voice broke and it broke him to hear it.

He hated seeing you unhappy. You didn’t deserve to be burned the way you had. He wrapped his arms around you, then. For the first time. “I would never do that to you. I would never-”

You hugged him back. “Please don’t make promises you can’t keep. Let’s just take this slow...Okay?”

He never felt as close and vulnerable with someone. Then you came along and he was ready to do what he could to be with you. To at least try. “Okay.”

He caressed your face and pulled you in for a kiss. He lifted you off the ground and sat you on a ledge as he leaned down to kiss you deeper. His tongue intertwined with yours. You both tasted like ice cream and it made you both crazy with longing. You were the first to stop the kiss and reminded him, “Slow.”

He kissed your forehead. “Slow.”

…

[4 Months Later]

You and Taeyong took your new relationship slow. It drove you both crazy that you put off sleeping together for so long. You wanted to get to know Taeyong better. So did he. Even if this was the longest dry spell Taeyong had undergone, it was worth it.

“What’s got you so happy, boss?” Sicheng asked, visiting from New York. Sicheng and Kun moved out months ago when they saw that Taeyong wasn’t causing any trouble. Sicheng held Ruby in his lap. Taeyong adopted Ruby not too long after you two agreed to date.

Taeyong was worried, though. Just how far could he take things with you before he was summoned back by God? It could be five years or fifty years before He called him back to Heaven. Taeyong had to tell someone what was eating at him and Sicheng was one of his closest friends. “I need to tell you something.”

After Taeyong told Sicheng about you and what transpired all this time, Sicheng sighed, “Taeyong, this is trouble. We are not supposed to get involved with humans.”

“Sex is okay but dating and marriage are out of the question? How does that make sense?”

Sicheng frowned, reminding Taeyong of Kun at that moment. “Sex was never okay. In moderation and with zero strings attached? Sure...But you’ve crossed several lines...You’re playing with fire by pursuing y/n.”

Taeyong sighed in frustration. “I know but Sicheng, I’m falling…”

Sicheng watched Taeyong that night and witnessed how he changed after he met you. He put a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder. “I know. You’ve fallen since that first night. Five seconds.”

It took Taeyong five seconds to fall in love with you.

Taeyong continued, “I want to make this work. Let our Lord find out from me.”

“But-” Sicheng started.

“I appreciate you for not ratting me out to our Father, Sicheng. You’re a good friend.”

Later that night, Taeyong picked you up from your apartment and wanted to surprise you. He blindfolded you as you sat in the passenger seat of his car. Taeyong whispered into your ear. “Can you hear me?”

You laughed and bit your lip. “Taeyong, it’s a blindfold. Not ear plugs. Why are you whispering?”

He whispered even lower and the warmth of his breath made you fidget and press your thighs harder together. “It’s fun. That’s all.”

He could tell you were aroused. He could see your nipples through your black dress and he had to control his cock from making an early appearance. It was a good thing he blindfolded you.

Taeyong drove you two in silence and his giggles made you laugh. You held hands. It didn’t take too long to reach your destination. He escorted you out of the car and removed your blindfold.

“Surprise!”

You were at the Isla Central Marina and you stood before the entrance of a yacht named Cupid’s Bow. The boat was decorated with white Christmas lights.

“Taeyong, what is all this…”

He smiled as he led you onto the boat. “It’s where we’re having dinner tonight.”

You sat down at the table set at the center of the yacht. It was decorated with white daisies. Taeyong chose white daisies because their scent reminded him of you. And for their significance.

He sat you down at your seat and squeezed your shoulders.

You looked around in wonder. The night sky was clear as the full moon shone down on you both. “This is amazing. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Taeyong sat across from you and smiled brightly. “I want to give you the world, y/n. If you let me, I will.”

Your face felt flushed and you stared down at your lap. “You’re so corny.”

He asked for your hand and you gave it to him. He kissed it and looked at you with what could be described as bedroom eyes. He tried to seduce you a couple of times now because he loved to tease you. You’d tease him back and pretend to consider sleeping with him. Fair’s fair.

But tonight? The teasing would stop.

Someone else cleared their throat. “Welcome to Cupid’s Bow. Thank you for dining with us tonight. I will be your server, Kun.”

You gasped and laughed. “Kun, what are you doing here?”

Dressed as a waiter, Kun said, “Taeyong needed a hand for tonight. And our friend Sicheng will be maneuvering this vessel.”

You turned to Sicheng as he waved from the steering wheel. He was wearing a captain’s outfit. You fought back a laugh. They were a cheesy group of guys.

Kun started you guys off with drinks as the boat departed the marina. You sailed around the bay that connected to the ocean. The bay led into downtown Isla where the city lights shone brightly. It was a beautiful modern-day fairytale.

Taeyong started up a playlist from his Bluetooth speakers and asked you to dance. “Give Me Love” by Ed Sheeran played.

Taeyong was a great dancer. He must have been classically trained for years. He spun you in circles and dipped you, pretending he was about to drop you to tease you. He pulled you close and hummed along to the lyrics. You laughed and held him tightly.

The songs continued as you and Taeyong watched the view. He held you from behind. The night was perfect.

“Y/n,” he said into your ear softly.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

You turned back to him and smiled. “I love you, too.” You kissed him.

You liked Taeyong ever since that night you met. But you started falling in love after you saw how he was with Ruby. He carried a lot of love and loyalty in his heart that it left you in awe every time you were with him. There was more to him than the wealthy bachelor persona he emitted. That wasn’t who he was. He was a man who loved fiercely. He was your best friend. And now you wanted him to be your lover.

You sat down together and ate Italian cuisine. Kun was an incredible chef. You and Taeyong share lasagna and chicken Alfredo. It was delicious. For dessert, you two fed each other gelato.

When Cupid’s Bow returned to the dock, you and Taeyong sat in the car, awkward.

Taeyong waited for you to tell him to take you home but it never came. You wanted him to suffer for a few more seconds.

You started. “Thank you for tonight.”

He cleared his throat. “I had the best time.”

“Can I stay the night?” You asked softly.

Taeyong was hearing things. “I’m sorry?”

“Let’s spend the night together.”

Taeyong was about to jump out of the driver’s seat and scream. He played it cool and his face was unreadable as he said, “Okay.”

You giggled. Taeyong was an enigma but you could see the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

You returned to the beach house and darted to the pool. Taeyong ran after you. You removed your dress and turned to him, biting your lip because you knew he loved it.

You were down to your black and red lingerie and Taeyong was so close to salivating. He longed to worship your body. He stood there, unable to move. He watched you slowly descend the steps into the pool and wait for him.

He walked slowly over to you, like a tiger about to pounce on his prey. He wanted you. You could see the desire in his gaze. He unbuttoned his shirt and you could see his abs glisten against the reflection of the pool. He smirked again, knowing it drove you crazy when he did that. He slowly unbuckled his belt and you could see his bulge better as he pulled down his pants.

“Wow,” you said.

“Hmm?”

Taeyong was down to his briefs. He pulled them down and chucked them away. His physique was like that of a statue of a Greek god. He was rock solid. You swam into the deep end, waiting for him to follow you in.

Taeyong got into the pool and dove down. You couldn’t see him now.

You were waiting for him to surprise you but time passed and you wondered if something was wrong.

“Yong?” You started. “Yong!”

He crept up behind you then, pulling your panties down in the process. “Boo.”

You smacked him. “Jerk. I thought you were dying.”

Taeyong chuckled. “I wasn’t down there for that long.”

“You’re kidding, right? I counted. It was at least a minute.”

Maybe he crossed the line with his immortal abilities, then. He sighed. “What can I say? I have incredible lung capacity.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why don’t we put that to the test?” You put your arms around him and kissed him deeply.

Taeyong’s heart skipped a beat. Your soaked body got him harder. You got onto his lap and he kissed your cleavage. His kisses were everything. You had been thinking about your first night with him for a long time now.

Taeyong lowered the strap of your bra and kissed your shoulder, silently asking if he could unclasp your bra. You nodded. He adored your breasts, biting and sucking at them.

You lowered your hand to his pelvic region and felt his large cock. He grunted as you clasped it. You kissed his neck and nipped at his ears.

You both loved teasing each other so now that you were spending the night together, neither of you was going down without a fight.

After a few minutes, Taeyong carried you out of the pool. You looked up at him, admiring his flawless profile. He dried you off and he took your hand and led you upstairs to his shower.

He started up the shower and you looked up at him. He took your face into his hands and gave you a peck on the lips. He smiled.

He started washing you with his body wash. It was Jo Malone Lime Basil & Mandarin. It smelled just like Taeyong and you wished you could smell like this all the time. He carefully navigated your body like you were a fragile vase and kissed you all over. He saved your chest for the end and could feel your heartbeat against his palm. He looked up at you through hooded eyes and you kissed his nose.

You washed him and teased him as you washed around his crotch, lightly tracing it with your fingers. His skin was soft while his body was muscular. He was the most beautiful contradiction in the world.

Taeyong pulled you in for another kiss and you wrapped your arms around each other. He turned the shower off. You both dried off.

He scooped you up, making you giggle. He laid you down gently. You stretched your body against the mattress and Taeyong admired all of your angles.

“I’m going to fuck you until the sunrise, y/n,” Taeyong said as he looked down at your body. Your eyes lock on him. They were no longer doe-like.

“I bet you are,” you said, feeling a little nervous now.

He straddled you and kissed you. His cock teased its entrance into your folds. “My stars, you are the most gorgeous creature,” he said as his face was mere centimeters from yours.

You pulled him closer and you kissed again, running your hands over his back. He traced his fingers around your folds, teasing your entrance. You whimpered as you held him tightly.

You pushed him off of you and laid him back as you gripped his cock and pumped. “You think you’re the only who’s been dying for this moment?”

Taeyong gaped at you. You were the first partner to take charge. His other lovers usually let him take the lead. He didn’t mind it much but to see you cater to his needs made him dizzy.

You took his cock into your mouth and your throat burned from the contact. You couldn’t take all of him in so you had to love the rest of him with your hand. You started bobbing your head back and forth, licking the veins of his throbbing member. Taeyong grunted. “Fuck, y/n.”

You looked up at him and his heart nearly stopped again. He gripped your hair. He came into your mouth and you swallowed his seed.

“You taste better than I imagined,” you said as you wiped your mouth.

You were generous in all aspects of life but in the bedroom? Taeyong was floored. “Allow me to pamper you.”

He laid you against his bed frame and brought out handcuffs.

“Well, you came prepared. Are those new?” You hoped they were.

“Yes. They came in yesterday…Good timing, wouldn’t you say?”

You nodded as he unlocked the cuffs. “Lift your arms up, y/n.”

You obeyed and he cuffed you. Your breasts were raised beautifully and Taeyong sighed. “Breathtaking.”

You averted your gaze and Taeyong shook his head. He took your chin and turned your face to him. “No, no...Don’t get shy on me now...Not when you fucked me with that pretty little mouth of yours.”

You loved how low his voice became and you felt your pussy tremble underneath him. He fondled your breasts, squeezing your nipples and biting them. He kissed around your folds. He traced his tongue at your entrance and breathed against it, making you whimper. He started whispering sweet nothings in multiple languages. He spoke in almost ten languages and you wondered who this man really was. You came once he spoke dirty French into your ear.

You were already soaked and Taeyong wanted to indulge in torturing you for a few minutes before he entered you. He started by slipping one finger into your entrance and carefully avoided your G-spot to rile you up.

“Taeyong, please,” you cried.

He stopped and kissed your forehead. “We have all night, y/n.”

You pouted. “You’re too good at torturing me.”

He smiled. “Am I torturing you? I didn’t think so.”

You wrapped your legs harder around his abdomen. “Get inside me. Now.”

He sighed. “You seem to forget that I’m calling the shots, y/n.”

You licked your lips. “Are you?”

He frowned and slipped his fingers out of your folds. “Do you not like it?”

You shook your head. “I do. I do. I do.”

He smirked. “Then, let me work.”

He continued to fingerfuck you until you cried. “Yong, please…”

“I love when you call me Yong. It destroys me,” he said as he finally entered you.

You cried out loud as his cock entered and hit you in the right places. You could feel him go deeper and could feel his cock twitching in your belly. You climaxed quickly and Taeyong quickly pulled out and came right after.

Taeyong cleaned you both up, not removing you from the cuffs just yet.

“Uh, Taeyong?”

“Yes, darling?”

“You forgot something?” You looked up at the cuffs.

“Oh, you’re right. I did forget something.” He kissed your forehead. “I love you.”

He walked out of the room.

Your arms started to hurt from having been raised for so long. “You are so funny!”

He returned with a tray that had two glasses of water and a bowl of strawberries and whipped cream.

“Are you hungry?” Taeyong asked, acting oblivious.

“Taeyong, I think it’s your turn to try on the cuffs…”

He beamed. “Exactly what I was thinking, y/n.”

“Okay, great. Now if you can get these off of me, the chances of me choking you to death will be lower.”

He laughed. “You’re so funny.”

He sat next to you in bed. And fed you a strawberry with whipped cream on top, popping it into your mouth. He carefully slipped his finger out and licked his finger. “Mmm.”

He took the whipped cream and drew out shapes onto your body, tracing his tongue over the shapes and eating the whipped cream. It drove you crazy.

“Now that I’ve had my dessert. It’s only fair that you enjoy yours.” He uncuffed you.

You cuffed him and had your way with him. You even took it a step further and pulled out another set of handcuffs from the drawer. “I see you got an extra pair.”

He smiled. “Can never be too prepared.”

You returned his smile. “Let’s kick it up a notch. Shall we?”

You cuffed his ankles, as well. He laid in bed and waited for you to get to work on him but you decided to get the bowl of strawberries and whipped cream and eat a couple slowly. You even fed a couple to Taeyong.

You started, “This is nice.”

Taeyong grumbled in Korean.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. I’m just waiting here. Patient.”

“Like the good boy that you are,” you cooed.

Your voice made him harder. You took the whipped cream and traced it over your collar bone. “Lick,” you commanded.

He licked across your collarbone. Then, you drew shapes onto his body, drawing a heart around his pelvic region. You saved it for last and slowly licked around it. You kissed his tip. He groaned. You straddled him and kissed him passionately.

You teased each other like that all night and made love for hours. You fell asleep in each other’s arms, holding each other tightly. The sun had risen a few hours ago. You woke up first and found Taeyong holding you tightly to his chest. He felt your movement in his sleep and he held you tighter. The sun lit up his features. He looked like an angel.

You kissed his cheek and his eyes opened slowly. “Good morning.”

You smiled. “Hi.”

He stretched and held you again. “I need to check on Ruby.”

You shook your head. “I’ll take care of her. You sleep.”

He whined. “It’s okay. You rest.”

You giggled. “It’s okay.”

You and Taeyong got cleaned up. You borrowed some of Taeyong’s clothes. You took Ruby for a walk around the neighborhood. You spent a quiet day together, living in utter bliss.

…

[1 Week Later]

Taeyong was on cloud nine. Having you in his life made him complete. He can’t imagine it getting better than this. You were at work and Taeyong was preparing dinner for you as you were sleeping over later. He was going to ask you to move in.

He finished his homemade pepperoni pizza and put it in the oven. He heard the doorbell ring. Ruby barked and he joined her to see who was at the door. It couldn’t be you. It was too early. He opened the door to find Mark at the door.

“Mark!” Taeyong smiled and hugged him. Mark was another one of his coworkers and close friends. Taeyong regarded him as a little brother.

“Taeyong, it’s great to see you…Wow, you are glowing.” Mark eyed him carefully.

He smiled, thinking about you. “Yeah...I guess I am. Come in!”

After they sat down and caught up with each other, Mark said, “I’ll cut to the chase...I’m here in Isla for my next pairing session.”

“Is that so?”

He nodded. The usually lighthearted boy looked serious. “I know about y/n.”

Taeyong’s smile faded. Ruby snuggled tighter to Taeyong as she rested on his lap. “Who-“

He shook his head. “I found out myself. Y/n is my next assignment.”

Taeyong felt his world crashing down onto him. “No…”

Mark sighed. “I expected one of the fledglings to get into this mess but you? Our mentor? It’s absurd.”

“Mark-“

“Father doesn’t know…Imagine his disappointment when he finds out. He doesn’t have to. If you end it now.”

Taeyong’s chest was on fire. Tears were threatening to fall. “No.”

Mark frowned. “What?”

“You heard me, Mark. I’m not leaving her.”

Mark sighed. “Once I strike the arrows at her and her partner, it’ll be over.”

Taeyong shook his head. “Mark, please.”

Mark hurt for his friend but his duty as a Cupid came first. “I’m sorry, Taeyong. This is how our world works. You’re the one who told me so.”

Taeyong hated this. He hated the world he knew before you. How could he go  back to a world of bringing love to others and have no love himself? He couldn’t. Not after meeting you. You’d been burned before. No doubt by one of the Cupids interfering. He wasn’t about to let that happen again.

“Taeyong, if you interfere with y/n’s pairing...There’s no telling what the consequences will be.”

“I’ll be the one to deal with that, Mark. But I won’t let you come between us.”

After their exchange, Mark left. Taeyong retired to the kitchen to check on the pizza. It was ready.

“What is he saying, Taeyong?” You started.

“Y/n?!” Taeyong jumped as he found you waiting for him at the kitchen island. 

You’d snuck in earlier to surprise him with sweet potatoes you bought from the farmer’s market. You wanted to scare him because it was a bit of yours. You snuck through the back door with your own set of keys he gave you.

You were about to duck your head into the living room when you heard Taeyong say he wouldn’t leave you. Your heart sank.

He wanted to hold you. “Y/n…”

You crossed your arms. “What is going on? Who is Mark? And who exactly is your father? What exactly is your job, Taeyong? Because I’m beginning to suspect you’re not a dating guru.”

Taeyong sighed. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Taeyong checked the schedules of the fledglings at work in Isla. The best way for him to prove his identity to you was to show you how Cupids worked. “Come with me.”

He drove you to an amusement park. You turned to him. “You are not taking me on a date right now.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. Just follow me.”

He led you into the park and you sat down on a bench by the haunted house.

Taeyong started. “See that guy in the leather jacket? That’s my coworker Shotaro.”

“I don’t see him…” There was no one by that description where Taeyong was pointing.

“Y/n, hold my hand.”

“Taeyong, now’s not the time.”

“Please. Just do it.”

You gave in and held his hand and suddenly, a young man in a leather jacket appeared. Shotaro was carrying a bow and a bag of arrows. He prepared his arrow to shoot at someone leaving the haunted house.

“Taeyong, what is he doing?!” You yelled.

Taeyong shushed. “Y/n, just watch.”

You put a hand over your mouth and you were about to run over and stop this madness. Taeyong held you back.

Shotaro released the arrow and hit the young woman first. She looked at her best friend and kissed her cheek. Shotaro then shot another arrow at the best friend. She kissed the first young woman on the lips, then. The arrows vanished just as quickly as they pierced both women. It was as if they were never struck. Shotaro noticed Taeyong and waved before he faded away.

You rubbed your eyes. “Taeyong?”

“Yeah?”

“What the hell was that?”

“More like what the heaven was that…”

“Explain.”

Taeyong explained everything to you. How he was Cupid. How there were Cupids all over the world bringing people together. Taeyong was the original Cupid and he was on vacation. You took it all in and a lot of things started to make sense. Why he never spoke about his family or his job. How a lot of things were so new to him. It wasn’t because he was a sheltered rich boy. He wasn’t even human. He was a god.

This also meant that your concept of love was completely wrong. Cupids had their hand in romance all over the world. Which made you realize...

“So…When Jaemin broke up with me, it was because of you guys?”

Frustrated that you brought up Jaemin, Taeyong managed to say, “Yes…”

Tears fell from your eyes. “And you were never going to tell me?”

“It wasn’t my place to-“

“Oh, hell, if it’s not...How long were you going to play me like this? You were going to leave, anyway. What was the plan? Lead me on and then dump me like Jaemin did?”

Stabbed by your words, he begged, “Stop saying his name.”

“Well? How long were you planning to lead me on for? I’m sure you have a carefully crafted schedule for your next victim ready.”

Taeyong shook his head. “You don’t mean that.”

Tears fell onto your lap. “Taeyong, I loved you. Did you ever love me?”

The past tense killed him to hear. “Y/n, I love you. I’ve never loved anyone in all my years. You’re the only one for me.”

“Taeyong, you’re going to leave me.” You sobbed.

He shook his head. “I won’t leave you. I’ll fight for us.”

You hugged him tightly and he shushed you. He bought you a funnel cake with a large cup of lemonade to share. You both ate in silence for a few minutes.

You broke the silence.“When Mark said I had a pairing session, that means that I’m being matched with someone. Someone that isn’t you…”

“Yes…”

“Taeyong, I don’t want to be matched with someone else. What are we going to do?”

“I have a plan.”

You sighed. “I’m being selfish.” “What? No...Why would you think that?”

You took a sip of the lemonade. “The consequences of you disobeying...God, I still can’t believe it....I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Taeyong replied, “Let me deal with that, y/n. I will fight for us. It’ll take some convincing but after all of my years with Father, he has to listen to me.”

…

[The Next Day]

Tonight was the animal shelter’s fundraising gala in downtown Isla. It was held at the lavish Sun and Moon Hotel’s ballroom. Your potential partner would be in attendance tonight but you didn’t care. All you cared about was Taeyong and what he had up his sleeve. Mark was mingling with the other guests. He didn’t know that you were in on his plans with you. He met your eyes and smiled, playing the part of the oblivious but charming young man.

As far as Mark knew, you and Taeyong broke up last night so you had to look miserable. And frankly, you felt miserable not knowing what was about to happen with Taeyong. There was a chance you could lose him forever tonight. But you held onto the chance of remaining with him.

You forced a smile and continued to mingle with the guests. Meanwhile, Taeyong disguised himself and kept an eye on Mark. Mark may have been a well-established Cupid by now but he was not at Taeyong’s level. He was off by a few centuries.

The shelter had received a lot of donations from many local businesses and celebrities. You gave a thank you speech to all the attendees for their generosity and raised your glass to them. The uncertainty was killing you underneath it all.

Taeyong watched Mark prepare his arrow, then. Mark was no longer seen by humans. You realized Mark and Taeyong were missing, which meant it was time. Taeyong prepared his arrows. He stabbed himself with his own arrow as he watched you. Right before Mark shot his arrow, Taeyong shot at you. You turned to him, then, finally able to see him. Mark realized too late what he had done.

Mark yelled. “What have you-”

Taeyong and Mark vanished.

…

[5 Years Later]

The year you spent with Taeyong had vanished from your memory. The night of the gala after Taeyong and Mark disappeared, you continued on with your life. Living with an inexplicable hole in your heart. You thought it was because you were being dramatic. Seeing a lot of your friends get married and have kids didn’t help your case either. Meanwhile, you were alone. Working hard and thriving, sure. But emotionally, you weren’t all there.

None of your friends or family remembered Taeyong either. It was as if he never existed to any of you. One day, Jisoo introduced you to one of her friends from her gym. You two hooked up not too long afterwards. The night was fun. It was a one-time thing.

However, that one-time thing ended up in your pregnancy. The father wanted nothing to do with your child so he skipped town. You didn’t hold it against him. The child was unplanned and you decided to carry on with the pregnancy on your own. Your friends and family were very supportive. You gave birth to a baby girl named Daisy.

The emptiness in your heart was filled by your love for Daisy. She was your world. She was your partner in crime. You wanted to give her everything good the world had to offer. Maybe someday you could give her a father.

After dropping her off at pre-school, you stopped by the post office to send out a letter to your pen pal. Isla recently started up a pen pal program for its citizens to send each other letters and gifts. You were paired up with someone who shared a lot of the same interests as you: favorite movies, foods, and animals.

You were paired up with a man named Lee Taeyong.

Dear Taeyong,

I’m sending you a copy of my favorite movie of all time, Jurassic Park. Please let me know if you like it. If you do, there’s a bunch of stickers in it for you. I hope you have safe travels to Munich and Budapest.

Warmly,

y/n

Taeyong had faced serious consequences for interfering with your pairing session. The work that had to be put in to pair up y/n’s original partner, Nakamoto Yuta, with someone else put everyone into a frenzy. Thankfully, the damage was repaired.

However, the Lord was pissed. Taeyong disobeyed him. Even though God adored him, he knew he had to be punished. For every second it took for Taeyong to fall in love with you, it would take a year for you two to reunite.

God relieved Taeyong of his Cupid duties and wished him a wonderful life as a human. He looked forward to Taeyong returning to him again one day.

Taeyong returned to Isla with an established job as a pilot. Ruby remained with him. His friends Sicheng and Kun would look after her while Taeyong was away now and then. He loved traveling the world but he loved coming home to Ruby most of all. He tried dating a couple of times but it never clicked with anyone. And hook-ups were a thing of the past. He wanted something serious. He hoped to find someone to call his person someday.

He recently sent his pen pal a letter before departing for his flight to Paris.

Dear y/n,

I loved Jurassic Park. I can’t believe I wasted so many years of my life not knowing this movie. Don’t hold back on the stickers. I’m sending you a copy of one of my favorite movies. It’s called Train to Busan. Try not to swoon too hard over Gong Yoo or I might get a little jealous.

Warmly,

Taeyong

You two exchanged letters frequently and after a few more months, you decided to meet up at the cafe right next to the shelter. Taeyong walked past the shelter, arriving early for your meet-up. He was thrilled to meet you and finally put a face to your name. He looked at the windows where adoptions were currently underway.

That was when he saw you.

And just like that everything flooded back to him. How you two already knew each other once. How you became friends and grew together. How you fell in love.

He ran into the shelter and called your name. “Y/n!”

You were answering a volunteer’s question when you heard someone call your name. When you turned to the person who called you, it all came rushing back to you. All of the memories. All of the love for him that you carried in your heart. 

“Taeyong…” Your eyes welled up.

You ran towards each other. You jumped into his arms, then. You laughed and cried together. You took a ten minute break to sit outside with Taeyong.

“I can’t believe it’s you…” He cried.

“Me neither...It’s been five years…”

“Five years...A year for every second it took for me to fall in love with you…” Geez, he thought, God was so unfair and so corny at the same time.

Five years without each other was too much for either of you to bear. You caught up on each other’s lives. Taeyong was shocked to find out you have a daughter. You were shocked that Taeyong was a human now.

But now this meant that you two could grow old together. Daisy could finally have a father. And you couldn’t wait to hold Ruby again.

…

[1 Year Later]

After a year of dating and getting to know each other again, you and Taeyong got married. Daisy and Taeyong adored each other. Ruby was happy to see you again and more than happy to welcome Daisy into her life. It was a beautiful union.

All of your friends were in attendance. Jisoo was weeping so hard. Jaehyun and his boyfriend Johnny were in attendance. Taeyong was shocked that it hadn’t been Jaehyun who claimed your heart after all this time. It turned out that Jaehyun was just a concerned friend. They became good friends.

You got married at the beach. You wore a stunning mermaid white gown. You walked down the aisle with a train decorated with white daisies. The white daisies translated to: “I love you truly.” Sicheng, a violinist, played his rendition of “All My Life” by K-Ci & JoJo. It was yours and Taeyong’s song.

Taeyong donned a black tuxedo. A daisy decorated his lapel. He nearly broke down in tears at how lovely you looked. You couldn’t help the huge smile on your face.

You recite your vows to each other. You started, “Taeyong, from the moment we first met...My life became tinted in shades of pinks and oranges again. I could see that the world could be beautiful. You helped me find happiness again. A happiness I didn’t know I needed until I met you. I adore you and will adore you even into the afterlife. Whatever happens, I will always be here for you. You have my heart. My everything. I cannot wait to spend our lives together with Daisy, Ruby, and our future children. I love you.”

Taeyong replied, “Y/n, you are my world. I found love in you. You are the light of my life. You made me a better person and you made me want to live and enjoy life. The world is beautiful because of you. I love you with all of my heart. I promise you that we will always be together. No matter what life...and the after life...will throw at us. I am yours. I will always be with you. My love. My darling y/n...I love our family. Daisy and Ruby, we love you so much. I cannot wait to raise our family together, y/n. I love you.”

Officiant Kun continued, “By the power vested in me by the State of Sweetwater, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Taeyong scooped you up and kissed you, earning applause from your friends and family.

A magical day of many. You two lived happily ever after.

Fin.

[macaknight]

Love Alarm: review & opinion.

Disclaimer: As stated before, this is my opinion over this specific piece of media. You can differ from my point of view, but I will not tolerate hate towards me, the characters and the actors and actresses.

‼️Also, I’ll be talking about several plot points. so spoilers would be ahead. You have been warned.‼️

‼️Trigger Warning: mentions of suicide‼️

Okay, this drama felt different from others, it broke several stereotypes -like kissing in the first episodes, I’m still shook about it-. The drama was really appealing to me and felt fresh. I always liked how they explored the ramifications of an app like Love Alarm would have in our interpersonal relationships, and in several occasions made a point to address how reliant the society had become of Love Alarm (ex. how the app outed several lgbtq+ people, the wedding ceremonies now requiring ringing the partner’s alarm, etc).

The show starts in their highschool years and we as an audience often forget that during this years, teens are still in development, they are still growing some parts of the brain and they most likely will commit many mistakes. To fail is to grow. With this said, while this can offer one explanation as to why many characters did what they did, is not an excuse to justify some actions and behaviors; in order to learn from their mistakes, those mistakes need to be pointed out, be held accountable for it.

✨Main Cast✨

For the main character, we have Kim So Hyun as the main female lead Kim JoJo. She had a very traumatic past and her present wasn’t a pleasant one either. I’m no psychologist, but I believe she had a very severe case of survivor’s guilt. Her parents commited suicide and tried to take her with them when she was very young; and then her second guardian, her grandma, became severly ill and no longer could take care of JoJo. Now her aunt had to take care of her. The reason Jojo’s parents took their lives was due to a significant debt, and if you know anything about civil law, you know that debts can be inherited (banks and other institutions have this unquenchable thirst) so her aunt had to solve their debt which led to economic and marital struggles in the Park family. This created a very hostile environment for JoJo to grow in, and consequently fed into her guilt. She presented herself as a very happy person, but she often ran away from her problems -literally and metaphorically- (ex: running during lunch in order to ignore her hunger and then lying about it; hiding the fact that she worked instead of going to an academy; etc)

As a male lead and romantic interest, we have Song Kang as Hwang Sun Oh. I’ll be very honest with you, my first time watching season 1, I liked him a lot, he’s very charismatic, handsome and had some genuine cute moments with Jojo. His plotline is not as refined as Jojo’s but I’ll try my best to explain it with what I’ve gathered. His mom was a very popular actress in Korea and married a man with political pursues and since Korea is a highly conservative country (I AM NOT KOREAN, BUT WHAT I HAVE READ ABOUT KOREA’S HISTORY AND IT’S ACTUAL LAWS IN SEVERAL TOPICS GAVE ME THIS IMPRESSION, BUT FEEL FREE TO CORRECT ME), they value the traditional sense of family since family is the cornerstone of every society; so the Hwang family decided to have a child to present themselves as a perfect family and appeal to the public. Having Sun Oh put a strain in her mother’s career and for that she resented him, and to avoid her feelings she turned to alcohol and other substances unknown to us. Sun Oh grew up as a neglected kid, he was deprived from several forms of love and affection and that clearly took a toll on him. His most close friend - safe haven even- was Hye Yeong, because he offered those things he needed; Sun Oh became very co dependent of him. Sun Oh needs constant reassurance, PDA and attention, specially the last one, he could not be bother what other people think, he thrives in the spotlight.

Last but not least, the other male lead and romantic interest, Jung Ga Ram as Lee Hye Yeong. The more I watched the drama the more I liked him and during last year’s quarantine, I watched season one, three times. The Lee family work/ed for the Hwang family and they seem to be low middle class or middle class. Hye Yeong was raised only by his mother, since his father was imprisoned, and she always made sure to raise Hye Yeong to be a nice person, this so he didn’t become like his father. Since the Lee’s lived with the Hwang’s, Hye Yeong witnessed the neglect -and may I say abuse- Sun Oh suffered, so he decided to be his friend and protector. Being from different economic and social backgrounds/classes did put some pressure on their codependent relationships. Hye Yeong learned from a very young age that he needed to work hard in order to get the things he needed and wanted from life, while Sun Oh got most things handed to him -either by his looks or his wealth-. I theorize that he, in a way, resented Sun Oh for that, but since he loved him, was willing to let that stuff pass. When his acts of selflessness extended to other stuff, albeit his crush/attraction to Jojo, it made him unhappy but he kept that for himself.

---

Kim Jojo starts the show working two part-time jobs in order to pay her aunt the debt, and often would use her lunch money to take care of her sick grandma. She juggled all of those responsibilities along with getting good grades, and she dealt with everything alone, Jojo didn’t wanted to bother anyone with her problems and lied to her boyfriend and friends about it. Later on, while dating Sun Oh, they shared some lovely moments (ex. Eating ramen in the restaurant, the late night talk by the shore) but in general, that relationship -and Sun Oh- brought a lot of unwanted attentions and struggles to Jojo’s life, she got put in the spot many times and got judged several times because of it: first in high school and then in college. When the accident happened and she chose to put the shield, she was in a really dark place, because she kept blaming herself for everything, and found it easier to just hide as much of herself as she could. Yes, explaining everything to Sun Oh would have given them some kind of closure and made the transition smoother and healthier; but again, neither does she or Sun Oh were trauma free/mentally healthy.

After the time jump, JoJo does a little growing by standing up to her aunt and Gul Mi. A bit small, but baby steps it’s still progress. She finds some agency in that, and that relieves some pressure. When Hye Yeong starts pursuing her, she’s open about it and once they’re in a relationship she makes the effort to support him and even places his needs before her worries when the video went viral. Jojo wasn’t perfect in season two, she still needed to improve how she communicated with Hye Yeong and she still doubted herself -due to the app and her personal struggles-. I still think she needed therapy, but the scene where she’s running in Jeju AND FORGIVING HERSELF was such a crucial key point in her character arc. It represented her letting go of her walls and to start truly communicating with others.

Hye Yeong’s development started early on in season 1, when he saw an opportunity to finally act on his crush. It was his first selfish act and he did that for himself, but despite that, he still was very respectful of Jojo’s boundaries. She expressed her doubts and fears about being in a relationship and he knew that and constantly reassured her in ways that made her comfortable. They got to know each other and learn from each other, that helped them grow. Later we learn that his father is in prison and that made him question a lot of things about himself, whether or not he was actually a good person. Episode three was such a lovely portrayal of the strength in their relationship. When the video was released, Hye Yeong’s first thought was to go and support Jojo instead of chastising her -it wasn’t her fault let’s be clear- but found Sun Oh instead and called him out on his bullshit (I’ll get to that). Hearing about the spear confused him, and I understand why he doubted her intentions it still annoyed me tho.

Now, with Sun Oh, TikTokers @ mikeyysulli and @ mangosupremacy said it better. The initial reason why Sun Oh pursued Jojo, was because of Hye Yeong. “His best friend wasn’t paying as much attention, so he wanted to know what made her so special.” You could argue with me whatever you want, how much you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that he ignored his best friend’s feelings and disrespected Jojo’s present relationship (not once, but twice); because he thought he knew better. There’s this thing called consent. As previously stated, Sun Oh doesn’t mind attention, he loves it, and that’s okay; the problem is that Jojo doesn’t, and he just couldn’t see past his own needs. I know the first love is something special, no matter how long that relationship lasted, but the problem for me was that he held a grudge for so long that it became an obsession of his, that affected others as well (more prominently Yuk Jo). Dating Yuk Jo was cruel because it was misleading and deceiving; no, he didn’t mistreat her, but he didn’t love her either. His plot line was a little rushed in the end for me, I would’ve liked for him to go to therapy and that they show more clearly how he let go of his love obsession of Jojo, his toxic tendencies and making amends with Hye Yeong.

✨Conclusions✨

I would like to make one thing clear. I’m not finger pointing at anyone. I shipped Sun Oh and Jojo at the beginning, it’s something that I was used to; seeing certain traits or actions and viewing them as romantic when in reality are extremely toxic. It took a lot of learning and unlearning for me to realize that characters and people that show the same traits that Sun Oh did, are not good and we should stop romanticizing it. I don’t blame anyone but society who has shown us toxic behavior since we were young, and brainwashed us into thinking that was okay. Not because someone is attractive and rich, it makes it okay to be possessive, entitled and violent.

—-

I really enjoyed this whole thing. Yeah, it was a bit frustrating at times, but still very rewarding. The secondary cast was okay, I would’ve liked that we got to know more about Mon Sun, she was a really good friend. Gul Mi’s character arc was weak. The Love Alarm Killer plot line was interesting but rushed. I did like it. To be honest, I think they stretched some unnecessary parts and left others too short. But overall such a fun watch. Definitely will watch again.

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 01

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, future angst, future smut

; Word Count: 2.8k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh...incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: This is going to be a drabble series. It’s not planned out, it has no planning. It will be written as and when I get the inspiration for it. The Flower app is inspired by the Bumble app in which women make the first move on it. This is just purely something to try and get me back into enjoying writing again so...please show it and me some love because I already love this Hoseok? I haven’t proof read lol

Flower Masterpost

“Okay...okay. Let’s do this...you can do this. It’s easy. Just...download the app and go. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? Well you could get murdered. That would suck. But it would resolve a lot of issues I guess. On the other hand...I could meet the love of my life. I mean...is that likely?” The soft sounds of your muttering are probably barely heard over the soft playing music through the speakers connected to your television, YouTube playing mindlessly to itself on the screen.

Your focus though, is solely on the phone in your hand. Soyeon, your best friend, had been bugging you to join some online dating sites for a while and it had only gotten worse when your other friend Chungha told her that she fully agreed with her. Part of you felt cornered by them both but another part of you understood them.

They were just looking out for you. You were naturally quiet and shy, introverted and preferring to remain inside or on the sides if you were dragged to a party. An inability to engage in small talk meant that that you struggled to make conversation with people as well. That all resulted in a small circle of friends who understood you well but that was it, everyone else was merely acquaintances who would hang out with you simply because they were friends with your friends.

As such, it meant that you struggled with dating. And by that, you mean that you hadn’t been in a relationship for a long time. Nor could you do flings like some of your friends did, the very thought filled you with anxiety.

This was why they had suggested trying online dating, because you’d lamented to them about how lonely you’d started to feel. You were still relatively young, and you knew that relationships weren’t the be all and end all. But when you haven’t dated since college, it starts to feel like no one is interested in you at all. And that was a hard feeling to take in.

You wanted to be like your friends. To have someone to talk to about things without feeling embarrassed, someone who would enjoy being in your company and actively seek you out, someone to be intimate with. Someone to fall in love with. It sounded cheesy and stupid but both Soyeon and Chungha had taken your concerns to heart.

They’d asked if you wanted to be set up on blind dates but the very idea of that made you lose your breath with anxiety, the fear of failure or judgement from someone who has never met you before overwhelming. So Soyeon had suggested online dating and now here you were, curled up on your couch on a Saturday night, a glass of water on the side because you don’t like alcohol and the app store open to dating apps.

“Tinder...isn’t that just for hookups?” You murmur, frowning as you look at some of the reviews. There were probably people who had managed to get lasting relationships on Tinder, but the idea of having random people actively deciding whether or not you were worth trying simply from a photo or something was horrible. Not that you had any idea how it actually worked, but still…

A few other apps look to be the more traditional online dating route and you consider whether to download one of them. But then you see an app that attracts your attention, a small soft pink and orange logo with the outline of a white flower in it. The title is simply ‘Flower’ and you take click on it to read the description.

‘Find the perfect partner and watch love or friendship bloom like a flower! 

The Flower app asks you to set up a profile by asking you a series of questions to determine your interests and personality. We then set you up with a series of people we consider to be a good match and give you the opportunity to initiate a conversation!

Here at Flower, we want to make sure that dating is fun and most importantly, equal. As such, we allow women to be the one to initiate contact with their matches. This means that if you’re looking for a same sex relationship, then you can both reach out. The same goes if you don’t identify as female or male. If you’re looking for a heterosexual relationship, then you can reach out to your match and he can decide whether he wants to respond. 

We don’t tolerate any form of hate speech or intolerance and will respond with quick action against this. At Flower, we promote inclusivity, diversity and tolerance. We want the world to grow and bloom with love, one relationship at a time!’

The reviews for the app seemed to back up their description and you felt curious. An impulse takes over and you download it, tongue sticking out as you wait before loading it up once it’s done. The interface is clean and take a moment to chew your lip before clicking the sign up button.

Everything seems to be rudimentary at first, asking for your age and location, name and occupation. But then it starts to ask some other questions. Your favourite film genres, a list of favourite films, your favourite books, where you’d like to go on vacation, favourite music and songs and so much more. Some of it felt bizarre, like would you rather eat chicken or beef? Would you rather drive an Audi or a Ford?

You presumed it all had a reason though, and after what felt like five minutes of answering questions, you finally had a profile. Flicking through the gallery on your phone, you found a picture that you felt was flattering while still showing your personality. It’s from a few months ago and was taken with a Polaroid camera, giving it that distinctive filter that always seemed to be flattering everyone.

You were giving a small smile, eyes looking to the left of the camera while your chin was in your hand. Nose wrinkled slightly, a soft and fluffy white cream sweater covers you while a cherry blossom scarf is wrapped elegantly round your neck. And on top of all that...a bright yellow Pikachu hat sits on top of your head.

It had been your birthday and the girls had managed to coax you out for dinner before presenting you with a bunch of presents. They’d been a random assortment, as usual, but you’d loved it all. A skin care gift set, the Pikachu hat and a Pusheen stationery set. Your colleagues at your admin assistant job had given you the side eye when you’d added yet more cute and strange things to your already colourful and cluttered desk but you’d ignore them.

This picture had been one of the best taken of you recently and you smiled gently as you made it your profile picture. You didn’t like being photographed, constantly convinced that you were unattractive but your friends were convinced otherwise.

Everything looked to be set up and you wondered what you meant to do now, when a sudden notification pops up on the screen with ‘20 Matches Found’. Sudden anxiety makes you feel sick, stomach rolling with nerves as your veins practically fizz as you click on the view more button. These were people who the app had compared your own answers to and considered to be the best matches.

There’s a tiny moment of waiting as a tiny flower in orange and pink blooms and you sigh when it finally clears. The profiles are shown in descending order with those most matched to least. A tiny refresh button in the corner let’s you see that you can refresh your matches if necessary.

Each profile shows their profile image, their name, age and location. Scrolling through them, you note idly that you seem to have got a wide range of people that you had matched with. A 24-year-old swimming instructor named Kim Chaeyoung, a 31-year-old high school English teacher named Seo Jinwoo, a 29-year-old mechanic called Park Jisoo and more.

It was interesting to see the wide range of people that had come back and you perused their profiles carefully, reading the little description they’d written for themselves along with a few answers to questions similar to what you’d had to answer. The app seemed to pull a range range of questions for you read, with each person’s being slightly different.

You supposed it meant that you would need to ask for that information and you found yourself curious about one or two people, pressing the little button that indicated it would bookmark their profile for later viewing. Apparently you had a week to make the first interaction before it would vanish.

Humming lightly, you wondered if anyone would be interested in talking to you? 

Everyone looked so pretty on here and you wondered if you matched up to them. Would they consider you worth their time? Biting your lower lip, you shrug your shoulders and decided you had nothing to lose really. You didn’t know these people in real life and no one would laugh at you for simply reaching out and trying to make a connection.

You come across one profile that makes you pause though, your brow lifting in surprise as you wonder why on earth the app has matched you with this guy. The two of you don’t even look like you come from the same planet, nevermind have enough aligning interests to warrant being in your top 20 matches at the moment.

Clicking on his profile, you read through his basic info question while you purse your lips, making soft noises in your throat.

Jung Hoseok. 28 years old. IT Technician. 

He sounded pretty normal and you wouldn’t even give it a second thought normally, but his appearance did not match the casual job description he had. Maybe you were just being stereotypical here, but most of the IT people in your workplace were of the nerdy looking variety. And you only say that because every one of them wore some form of Rick and Morty or other pop culture shirts.

Which you were fine with, because you enjoyed most of the same things too. But no one looked like this guy.

The reason you were so surprised was because of his profile picture, and despite your earlier thoughts about just sending messages to everyone for the sake of it, you felt a well of anxiety rising again as you looked at him. This guy is quite possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, the kind of guy that people only think exists when they’re rich and famous.

But he’s also completely unlike you. He’s evidently at some sort of event as he has a bottle of beer in his hand while his other hand is making the metal horns shape. One eye is closed to camera, winking while his tongue is poking out of his mouth on one side, white teeth visible beneath pink lips amidst gold skin. A silver ring pierced his lower lip on the right while a small ball is visible in his tongue.

His hair is jet black, gleaming in the crappy lighting in a messy state that looks slightly wet while his exposed skin has a sheen of sweat on it. A red and black shirt unbuttoned on him, rolled up to his elbows to reveal toned forearms that are completely covered in vibrant and bright colour.

The tattoos make what you presume to be full sleeves on both arms, his left arm appearing to be a swirling galaxyscape with brilliant galaxies, planets, moons and more interwoven with, bizarrely, dragons that are almost transparent. They look beautiful though, and you get an image of space dragons made of fine dust flying through the vast expanse of space as you look at them.

His other arm looks to be a mesh of things together, flames and flowers and skulls and ships. None of it makes any sense to you, but you’re positive it probably means something to him. One of the sleeves expands onto his hand, the one showing the horns and you eye the clock tattoo that takes up the space.

His tattoos look to expand beyond his arms as the black top beneath his shirt gives tantalising glimpses of the black and colour tattoos that obviously sprawl across his chest. Strands creep upwards, almost to his neck and you get the impression of something fiery, the soft wisps of red and orange looking like burning embers on his skin.

This guy...looked like he belonged in a metal band or tattoo shop. And he was...beautiful, way out of your league. 

Which was why you had to have experienced an out of body moment when your finger presses the message button, the screen popping up with an automatic message pre filled out for you.

“Hey, Flower shows that we’re good matches so I’m reaching out to you! If you would like to talk to me, please respond!”

Scowling, you deleted the message, deciding it would be bad manners to just send the template message to someone that you were attracted to. That thought gives you pause, acknowledging that you are in fact attracted to him. He looked like the kind of guy who would take one look at your profile and laugh himself home at the prospect of doing anything with you.

The man clearly thrived on social situations, enough of his profile gave that away and again you wondered why the app matched you together. Maybe he had some secret love of Pokemon or something. Looks could be deceiving, obviously.

And even if you’d never listened to a metal song in your life...you were always open to trying new things. If you were going to open yourself up to the prospect of online dating, then you may as well go fully out of comfort zone.

Swallowing, you carefully type out a short message and spend the next five minutes reading it over as anxiety and fear swirl within you. Indecision causes you to wonder whether you should just delete it all and ignore his profile, going for the safe option of someone who looks like they’d be more accepting of you on your list.

But the allure of something so unlike you pulls you in and you press send, watching the message swoosh away and changing his profile to a soft pink to indicate that you’d initiated contact. Almost immediately you feel sick, body going cold as you pant ever so slightly.

Oh god, he’s going to read that message and take one look at your profile then delete the message. He probably had hookups all the time, the kind of guy you shouldn’t get involved with. You had no interest in being a one night stand and- you shake your head, clenching your teeth and taking a deep breath.

Stereotypes are damaging to yourself and others, you tell yourself quietly. There’s no reason to paint him with a negative brush already when he’s not even had a chance to do anything. And so what if he only wanted hookups? It was the 21st century, men and women could sleep with who they wanted, as often as they wanted and they shouldn’t face the prejudice you’re showing him already.

Before you can even think anything else though, your phone sends out a soft, melodic note and you look down with wide eyes. The message icon has an orange notification on it, signifying that you have a new message on there. Hesitating, you wonder if it’s just one of those generic ‘welcome’ messages that you sometimes get when you sign up for sites.

But the name of the sender tells you very much that it’s not a generic message, and the cold fear mixes with nervous excitement and trepidation as you see Jung Hoseok’s name. He must have already been on his phone to have responded so fast, and you wonder if he’s just sent a polite ‘thank you but no’ back.

It would be awfully nice of him if he did. Embarrassing, but polite.

Opening the message, your jaw drops and eyes widen as you read what he’s responded with.

You: Hi. I don’t know how to use this properly, so I’m sorry if I do it wrong. You showed as a match and...well I guess I say I’m interested? Not as a friend, unless you want that. I mean...the other way. Feel free to say no! Y/N

Reading it back over, you cringe at how...you it sounds. Hesitant and awkward and shy. Dammit, why couldn’t you just seize the moment and sound confident for once? Say something bold that would attract his attention.

And then you read his response.

Hoseok: Hey Y/N. Thanks for reaching out. How are you tonight?

[hoodwinkd1]

Your Eyes Whispered Ch 14

Ch 11-13 here. Ch 15 here.

Chapter 14: you can hear it in the silence

TW for panic attacks, marked at the beginning and end with “XXX”.

Carina Archeron raised one perfect brow as she surveyed the room. Eris held back a sigh at her dramatic entrance and ridiculously poised expression, the entirety of her presence meant to intimidate his guests.

She returned his gaze after a moment with a falsely saccharine smile. “My pleasure.”

Eris waved a hand, gesturing the musicians to start the music back up. He watched as Carina led her mate, a palace guard turned Illyrian ambassador named Bryce, across the floor until they stood a few feet apart.

The eyes of the crowd remained glued to the four of them, but luckily Eris could now place a sound bubble around their little group. “Did you run out of ways to steal attention in the Night Court? Was that entrance some sort of temper tantrum?”

Bryce snorted as Carina let out a low hum. “Maybe. But more importantly, I heard through the grapevine that you have someone to introduce to me.” Eris felt Rhia straighten her posture as the other female turned to face her.

“That would be a prenaturally speedy grapevine,” Eris mused. “Considering we only met several minutes ago.”

Carina ignored him. “It’s so lovely to meet you,” she said sweetly, extending a hand. “You look more than divine tonight; I can’t wait to find out how much better you are than this prick.”

Rhia accepted it gracefully. “Rhiannon Harmony. I’m glad I’m finally able to put a face to the name?”

Carina giggled. “Finally? I thought this..situation was only a few minutes old?” Her tone made it quite clear that she knew the actual timeline of their relationship, but enjoyed playing all nonetheless.

“Forget him,” Rhia tsked. “You’re somewhat of a celebrity, even in my small town.”

Eris cut in. “Don’t even think about flattering yourself, Carina. We only tolerate your presence because of your parents’ heroic efforts.”

“Rude!” Carina gasped. She poked Bryce’s shoulder. “Do something, defend my honor or whatnot.”

Bryce shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m only with you for your generational wealth.”

Rhia laughed at that, a delightful sound that immediately brought a smile to Eris’ face. Damn him, it was nearly impossible to act as anything but a fool in love next to this female, this goddess in gold. Bryce caught his eye with a sympathetic look, surprisingly fraternal for a male that never seemed to like him all that much.

“If you’ll excuse us, I have political allies to threaten and alcohol to drink,” Carina drawled. She leaned in to kiss Rhia’s cheek, ignoring or delighting in the additional attention the action brought on from the crowd. “I’m sure we’ll have the chance to get to know each other better in a less stressful situation.”

“I’d like that,” Rhia replied with a smile.

She turned to face Eris as the other couple disappeared into the crowd, and he took the opportunity to scan her face for some sort of reaction.

“I find it hard to imagine how you two even became friends,” she teased. “I don’t know if most rooms are large enough to hold both of your egos and snark.”

Eris sighed and pulled her back towards him. “The two of you are a terrible combination for my sanity. I would promise she’s less...everything one-on-one, but she’s basically always like that.”

Rhia pouted. “Poor, sensitive High Lord. I should have guessed you’d find a way to complain about having friends.”

He let out a groan, holding back some choice words about how annoying all his friends tended to be. She looked far too perfect in his arms, in his palace, in this moment to think about anyone else. “I’m considering ending all of my friendships so I can focus only on you instead. Speaking of, will Sofi mind if I don’t give you back tonight.”

“We’ve fulfilled all of her romantic fantasies tonight.” She shot him a wink and Eris almost died. “She can live without me for one night.”

“An entire night?” he asked tentatively, hoping he hadn’t misconstrued her demeanor.

They had somehow migrated to the outer edge of the dancing area, further from the noise of the orchestra. Rhia dropped one of his hands to snatch a glass of sparkling wine from a passing tray.

He watched her take a sip. “Let’s think about this,” she mused. “I could go back to my small, lonely house tonight. Or, I could demand a private tour of the palace and spend the night in the largest, most lavish suite in the entire Court.”

Eris’ mouth suddenly felt a bit dry. “My mother has the largest suite, and I’m not sure you could beat her in a fight for it.” He attempted a sarcastic tone, but his words sounded breathlessly hopeful instead.”

Rhia took another sip. “The second-largest suite, then?”

“Wonderful choice. And I’ve heard that the resident is wonderful, too.” He scanned the room for Gerwin, knowing that the male could help them stage a subtle exit.

---

Rhia shoved her hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter threatening to burst. Gerwin had only needed one sentence from Eris to somehow cause a drunken confrontation between two ex-lovers in the front of the room, allowing the two of them to dart out a secret passageway in the back.

Eris strode ahead, never allowing his grip on her hand to falter. He tossed her a smug look over one shoulder, and Rhia was certain no one had ever looked that attractive before.

“I feel like an adolescent again,” he admitted. “I haven’t used this passageway in over a century.”

Rhia scrunched her nose. “Did you have a habit of sneaking females out of parties and into your bedroom?”

Eris snorted. “More like myself. I hate talking to people.”

Her cheeks hurt from grinning at that statement. Something about being his exception, the only new person he had befriended in far too long, warmed her heart. And if she was honest with herself, warmed some other areas of her body too.

“Here we are,” Eris announced, placing one hand on the stone wall. Rhia couldn’t identify a door or any special markings, but the wall caved open at his magic touch. She followed him into a hallway, smaller and cozier than the one she’d entered the ballroom from.

Her last time here had been under duress, and she’d barely noticed any of her surroundings. This time was different. Instead of nerves at their changing relationship or anticipation of what might come next, Rhia felt peace and ease.

The feeling only grew when Eris led her through one of the doorways, pausing just past the threshold. Everything, every piece of artwork and furniture, radiated comfort to her. She dropped his hand and stepped further into the space, taking in every last detail of the gorgeous sitting room. Someone had gotten the blood stains out of the fabric, she noted, well enough that she couldn’t smell the metallic tang.

“What are you thinking about?” Eris asked softly, running one finger down her neck to the top of her dress.

She shivered automatically, and he pulled his hand away immediately. “Sorry, I should have asked-”

“Shut up.” Rhia spun around and grabbed his chin, pulling his face down so she could silence him with a kiss. She shivered again at the taste of his tongue, and this time, Eris couldn’t possibly misinterpret the motion. He ran the same finger down her back again, while the other hand cupped her cheek. Both of their hearts raced in tandem.

He let out a small gasp when she nipped his bottom lip. Eris responded by tilting her face up and pressing light kisses down her jaw. Rhia slid her grip down to his shoulders and pulled him towards her.

“Is this alright?” he whispered against the skin of her neck.

“Yes,” she breathed, eyes fluttering shut as she felt his tongue dart out to taste her skin. They hadn’t explored each other beyond this point, with eager kisses and greedy hands over clothing, but the perfection of the evening spurred Rhia on. Maybe, just once, her body and mind could cooperate long enough for--

“Fuck.” She cursed as Eris’ mouth reached the top of her dress, the upper swell of her cleavage erupting in goosebumps.

He raised his head, reaching one hand up to brush her cheek again. “One word, one breath from you, and I’lll--”

She groaned in impatience. “Yes, yes, you’ll stop and we’ll have a lovely evening of riveting conversation.” Stepping away from him took all of her strength, but Rhia pulled herself out of his embrace and began walking backwards towards the door that led to his bedchamber. “But until then, promise that you’ll treat me normally. That we can try and see what happens, rather than treading so delicately we may never see progress.”

The words came out quiet and fierce. She hadn’t even fully realized it herself, how much she needed this, wanted this opportunity to push them both one step closer to intimacy. Even if that step was miniscule and they never took another step after it, Rhia would find comfort in knowing her own limits.

Most importantly, he looked entirely too irresistible tonight, entirely too fuckable, to give up now.

“I can do that.” Eris approached her slowly, not cautiously, but with predatory intent. His eyes took in her disheveled appearance, his mouth forming a broad grin at his own handiwork. He popped open the top button of his tunic.

Rhia frowned. “Stop that.” When he froze in place, she rolled her eyes. “Not everything. Just that.” She pointed at his fingers, locked around the next button. “I want to do it.”

He was on her in an instant, pressing her against the side of the doorway as he kissed her again, tongue sliding in her mouth immediately. Rhia couldn’t stop giggling as her fingers replaced his, gracelessly yanking open the row of golden knobs until she could finally run her hands down his abdomen. They shared a groan at the physical contact, the warmth of two bodies more than ready for each other.

Rhia spun in his arms, placing one of her hands against the wood frame, the other grabbing his and placing it on the back of her dress.

“Untie me,” she demanded.

Eris pressed a light kiss to the top of her spine. “Yes ma’am.”

Rhia almost cheered when her dress hit the ground and she turned back around to face him, clad only in a short, sleeveless slip. He held her hand as they stepped out of their clothing, his shirt similarly discarded.

“Bed?” Rhia inspected the linens with delight; if nothing else, those sheets would be heavenly to sleep on. She’d rather feel them against her naked body as Eris worshipped her body, though.

They shared one more heated, lingering kiss at the foot of the bed, before Eris pulled her down with him onto the duvet. Her heart sped up as her back hit the softness.

(XXX - begin TW)

And kept speeding up as he pulled her into another embrace.

And kept speeding up until her breath came out in shallow pants.

Eris sat up immediately, scooting backwards to create space between them.

“Rhia.” She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t do anything as she lay there, unmoving except for the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “You’re safe. You’re okay. What should I do?”

She barely heard him. Her vision had started to swim, a sure sign of oxygen deprivation setting in after a full minute of shallow breaths. She slammed her eyes shut and struggled to regain control of her breathing, aiming for deep exhales and slow inhales. Eris somehow caught on to her initial, pathetic attempts and began breathing with her, exaggerating the sound.

Seconds, minutes, or hours later, Rhia opened her eyes and thankfully didn’t see any black spots. She remained silent, quietly taking inventory of her emotions, as she reopened her senses by identifying things she could see, hear, and feel.

The entire time, Eris waited. He also lay on his back, looking straight up at the ceiling and holding his breath steady as he waited for her to come back to her body.

“Okay.” Rhia let the word slip out of her mouth. It didn’t taste like a lie. “I’m okay.”

“Can I get you water? A blanket?” Eris turned his head to face her, but otherwise remained still.

She sat up, pressing her hands against the silk, feeling it slide between her fingers. “Both, I think.” She heard him stand up off the bed and leave the room, keeping her gaze locked on the pattern of the duvet. Were those whirls flowers or flames, or just abstract?

“Here.” Rhia glanced up and saw him standing a few feet away from her, holding a glass of water in his outstretched hand. She hated how much she needed that physical distance between them, and felt nauseous when she had to maneuver her hand around the glass to avoid touching his hand as she took it.

Fucking trauma.

XXX (end TW)

Eris still did not move closer. “I brought this too.” He showed her the long, heavy dressing gown draped over his opposite arm. The fabric would cover her body completely, both physically and visually. She also hated how relieved she was to cover herself up.

“Thank you.” The stiff words did nothing to ease the tension in the room. “Thank you, for all of it.” Rhia let out a humorless laugh. “You can say I told you so now.”

Eris’ jaw dropped, then tightened. “Rhia. That’s not, I wouldn’t even,” he sputtered, arms crossing his chest. “How can you say that?”

“Because you did tell me so,” she pointed out. “Or at the very least, suggested we should stop. It’s my fault, really, for pushing.” She tried, really tried, to keep her tone as light as her words, but self-doubt crept in nonetheless.

“Can I sit?” She nodded, and he joined her on the bed, careful to keep a safe distance. “You wanted to try. I wanted to give you anything and everything. No one’s at fault.”

Rhia groaned and grabbed a pillow to shove over her face. She was feeling much better, but unfortunately the ebbing panic left more room for frustration. “I was doing fine, everything was just fine, until…”

“Until?” Eris prompted her. “Was it something I did?”

“No,” she replied firmly. “No, I think it was the sheets. Or lying on the bed.” Rhia placed the pillow on her lap. She thought back to the moment before the fear set in, carefully parsing her mind without returning to the actual panic itself. “Something about hitting the bed with my back, definitely.”

“Ok. We won’t do that again.” Eris held his hands up, adding hastily, “not that we have to do anything again, of course, but in case we do find ourselves in a similar situation, then, we’ll try something else.”

Rhia threw the pillow at him. “Don’t go soft on me now. We will be trying again.” He caught the pillow and opened his mouth to reply. “And keep whatever lewd joke you’re about to make about going soft to yourself,” she snapped.

“A High Lord is better than ‘hard’ jokes,” he retorted. “How would you like the rest of the night to go?”

Something about the way he kept asking her questions helped ground her, forcing her to remain in the moment. Rhia considered his words, her options, and answered.

“I fear the night’s come to an end. I’m exhausted.”

Eris magicked a shirt and stood. “There’s a guest suite, then, right through-”

“No. I’d like to stay here.”

She could do that, at least. His bed was enormous and his scent was everywhere, reminding her of safety and comfort and protection. Rhia also had no desire to go to some guest suite, a room that probably held a manner of guests she didn’t particularly enjoy thinking about.

She watched him consider her words, running a hand through his tangled hair. “Obviously, I’m fine with that. How can we set that up properly?”

And so, they fell asleep together, in the same bed for the first time. There had to be a pillow barrier between them and one lantern lit in the corner to keep the room from fully succumbing into darkness, but they did it. Rhia liked that, having this small victory to look back on.

Right as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, she felt something come down the bond. Something shiny, something hopeful, something that told her they’d have endless tomorrows filled with countless small victories.

[binniesthighs]

❀intro + guidelines❀

PLEASE only interact with this account if you are 18+!!! I try the best I can to review those who follow my account so if I see that you are underage I will hard block: this is non-negotiable. (edit: writers, if I deem that you interact with minors, support non-con/dubcon, plagiarize, participate in bullying or other related unaccepted behavior, I will hard block as well). 

hello loves! I’m Ro, a writer from ao3 (RozQrtz), I write pretty clean fluffy stuff over there so I decided to move on over to Tumblr to try my hand at writing some more ~steamy stuff~ 

I know skz and svt the best, but I can also write for got7, ateez, the boyz, monsta x, nct 127 (I’m working on getting to know the rest of nct!), itzy, and I am somewhat confident in writing for *some* members of txt and loona (I only know how to characterize certain members!) 

My dms are open so hit me up! When open, all requests will be for a gender neutral reader unless you specify since I don’t wanna make any assumptions :) I’m down for writing ships, self inserts, mostly likely to, drabbles, and maybe longer stories later ;) 

When you send me a request, plz tell me: 

who is the reader? male, female, gender neutral? 

which member(s) would you like 

what do you have in mind? self inserts? most likely to? reacts to? ships? 

is there a specific scenario or setting you would like? 

would you like it to be fluff, smut, angst, suggestive? A mix? 

My current plan is to stagger my works and requests one after the other so I really appreciate your patience ♡

I will not write: 

pain play that includes blo*d

watersports (including spitplay) 

r*pe and non-con 

stuff with underage idols

age play  

stalker au 

non-con somnophilia

oppa//noona kinks 

ships between idols of 2 different groups

roleplay such as “I wish you could [   ] to me.” 

the obvious: incest (including stepsibs), beastiality etc 

do not interact: 

on this account, any form of homophobia, racism, transphobia, xenophobia or islamophobia is not tolerated. bullying and hateful comments will not be interacted with and I will report and block as I see fit. of course, you as a reader are entitled to all of your own opinions, however if they are hateful, I do not see them as constructive. 

before you follow: 

i add tags/warnings at the top of my longer pieces and try my best not to leave anything out, but if I do post something unbeknownst to me that contains triggering content, please let me know! on this account, i write about explicit sexual content and sometimes (but not frequently) about topics such as mental health, alcohol, and trauma from abusive relationships. I often also include eating as plotlines in my fics but I always include warnings for this as well at the top of the fic!

it is my hope that this account will be a supportive place for anyone!! also, i’m not here to kink shame lol that's not my kink--so you never have to apologize! i’ll tell you if I feel uncomfy (also please read my guidelines) but honestly i’m just here to share my hornies too!! 

I’m still getting used to this format so if I need to change my formatting or anything else I would appreciate it a lot if you told me :) 

[shylightcalzonealien]

The Epidemiologic Survey on Alcohol and Related Conditions

After looking through the codebook for the NESARC study, I have decided that I am particularly interested in ALCOHOL AND RELATED CONDITION . I am not sure which variables I will use regarding nicotine dependence (e.g. symptoms or diagnosis), so for now I will include all of the relevant variables in my personal codebook. 

Is alcohol associated with violence ?

Purpose

The NESARC, a “third-generation” psychiatric epidemiologic survey that integrated detailed measures of alcohol and drug use and problems has been the data source for over >850 publications. A comprehensive review of NESARC findings and their implications is lacking.

The most common disorders were alcohol and posttraumatic stress disorders, and major depression

Gender 

Males and females react to alcohol differently. Women tend to be smaller than men, and get intoxicated faster. Women have less alcohol dehydrogenase, the enzyme that metabolizes alcohol, so alcohol remains in the bloodstream longer (in fact, men have 40% more than women). Also, women tend to have a higher percentage of body fat, which reduces the percentage of lean body mass that can distribute the concentration of alcohol.Females had more internalizing disorders and males had more externalizing disorders, although the preponderance of males with alcohol disorders (the “gender gap”) was less pronounced than it was in previous decades. A race/ethnic “paradox” (lower risk among disadvantaged minorities than whites) remains unexplained. Younger participants had higher risk for substance and personality disorders, but not unipolar depressive or anxiety disorders. Psychiatric comorbidity was extensive and often formed latent trans-diagnostic domains. Since 1991–1992, risk for marijuana and prescription drug disorders increased, while smoking decreased, although smoking decreases were less pronounced among those with comorbidity. A nexus of comorbidity, social support, and stress predicted transitions in diagnostic status between Waves 1 and 2. Childhood maltreatment predicted psychopathology. Alcohol and drug use disorders were seldom treated; attitudinal barriers (little perceived need, perceived alcoholism stigma, pessimism about efficacy) were more important in predicting non-treatment than financial barriers.

 variables

Waves 1 and 2 included drinking quantity and frequency (overall and by beverage type); frequency of drug use by type; diagnoses and symptom data for psychiatric and substance use disorders; medical conditions; treatment utilization; functional impairment; socioeconomic information; family history of substance and psychiatric disorders; and past-year stressful life events. Wave 2 covered 3-year incidence, remission and chronicity of substance use, and the disorders assessed at Wave 1; three personality disorders not assessed at Wave 1; attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD); and scales measuring childhood maltreatment (abuse, neglect); other childhood adversities (parental violence, divorce); perceived discrimination due to gender, race/ethnicity, physical disability, religion, weight, and sexual orientation; immigration/acculturation; religiosity; social support, and perceived alcoholism stigma (e.g., “Most employers will hire a former alcoholic if he or she is qualified for the job” . These scales were based on previously tested measures, as detailed in Ruan et al.

The Relationship between Alcohol and Violence

Alcohol-related violence causes substantial death, injury and health problems. The 2004 Global Burden of Disease project estimated that alcohol-attributable violence accounted for 248,000 deaths annually worldwide . As noted by Bellis and Hughes in this issue , the link between alcohol and violence has been recognized as far back as the 4th century BC. However, understanding this link and especially how to prevent alcohol-fuelled violence continues to perplex contemporary scientists and policy-makers.

 The role of alcohol at the individual level: 

Partner and sexual violence The statistical link between alcohol and violence at the population level described in the first three papers does not necessarily reflect a causal relationship attributable to the pharmacological effects of alcohol. This link could be due, for example, to contextual and cultural factors such as strong cultural associations between drinking and violence , expectations that drinking will lead to violence, alcohol being consumed in contexts where violence is more likely to occur  and greater tolerance of violence when people have been drinking . Although experimental research suggests a causal contributing role in aggression of both the pharmacological effects of alcohol and the expectations associated with drinking , the causal role of alcohol has been particularly contested in the area of intimate partner violence  Two papers in this issue address the relationship between alcohol and intimate partner  and sexual violence .

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3170096/

https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s00127-015-1088-0#Sec2

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/21896070/

References

1. Rehm J, Room R, Monteiro M, Gmel G, Graham K, Rehn N, et al. Alcohol use. In: Ezzati M, Lopez AD, Rodgers A, Murray CJL, editors. Comparative quantification of health risks Global and regional burden of disease attributable to selected major risk factors. Geneva: World Health Organization; 2004. pp. 959–1108. [

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]2. Bellis MA, Hughes K. Getting drunk safely? Night-life policy in the UK and its public health consequences. Drug Alcohol Rev. 2011;30 in press. [

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]3. Rossow I. Alcohol consumption and homicides in Canada, 1950–1999. Contemp Drug Probl. 2004;31:541–559. [

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]4. Bye EK. Alcohol and homicide in Eastern Europe. Homicide Stud. 2008;12:7–27. [

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]5. Rossow I. Alcohol and homicide: a cross-cultural comparison of the relationship in 14 European countries. Addiction. 2001;96:S77–S92. [

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[militant-holy-knight]

Persecution of Christians in Moorish Spain

Contrary to what scholar consensus teaches, the Iberian Peninsula occupied by Arabs and the Moors was not an paradise of coexistence between people of different faiths and multicultural equality. This is thoroughly debunked in the book The Myth of the Andalusian Paradise by Dario Fernandez-Morera using the Arabic sources (NOT propaganda written by the infidels) to expose the true picture of Islamic Spain, which (among other things) brags about the wholesale destruction of churches the slaughter of Christian prisoners, praise the crucifixion of apostates, and texts advising Muslims how to collect the tax from non-believers. (Make them stand before Muslims sitting on a raised platform, call them “enemy of Allah” and then push them around for the amusement of any Muslim “who want[s] to enjoy it”).

Christians and Jews were allowed to practice their religion in peace, but this condition came with several fine prints. Non-Muslims had to accept the status of dhimmis which made them effectively second-class citizens. This condition was known as the Pact of Umar and the restrictions imposed on Christians and Jews were as follows.

Prohibition against rebuilding destroyed churches, by day or night, in their own neighborhoods or those situated in the quarters of the Muslims.

Prohibition against hanging a cross on the Churches.

Muslims should be allowed to enter Churches (for shelter) in any time, both in day and night.

Obliging the call of prayer by a bell to be low in volume.

Prohibition of Christians and Jews against raising their voices at prayer times.

Christians were forbidden to show their religion in public, or to be seen with Christian books or symbols in public, on the roads or in the markets of the Muslims.

Palm Sunday and Easter parades were banned.

Funerals should be conducted quietly.

Prohibition against burying non-Muslim dead near Muslims.

Prohibition against raising a pig next to a Muslims neighbor.

Christian were forbidden to sell Muslims alcoholic beverage.

Christians were forbidden to provide cover or shelter for spies.

Prohibition against telling a lie about Muslims.

Obligation to show deference toward Muslims. If a Muslim wishes to sit, a non-Muslim should be rise from his seats and let the Muslim sit.

Prohibition against preaching to Muslims in an attempt to convert them from Islam.

Prohibition against preventing the conversion to Islam of some one who wants to convert.

The appearance of the non-Muslims has to be different from those of the Muslims: Christians had to wear blue belts while Jews yellow belts (Yep, nothing Nazi-like about that)

Prohibition against adopting a Muslim title of honor.

Prohibition against engraving Arabic inscriptions on signet seals.

Prohibition against any possession of weapons.

Non-Muslims must host a Muslim passerby for at least 3 days and feed him.

Non-Muslims prohibited from buying a Muslim prisoner.

Prohibition against taking slaves who have been allotted to Muslims.

Prohibition against non-Muslims to lead, govern or employ Muslims.

If a non-Muslim beats a Muslim, it’s permissible to kill them.

The worship places of non-Muslims must be lower in elevation than the lowest mosque in town.

The houses of non-Muslims must not be taller in elevation than the houses of Muslims.

As Fernandes-Morera quotes the following passage from another contemporary historian:

“It is important to understand that medieval Islamic civilization had a different attitude toward slavery than that seen in Western Europe. Slaves were much better treated and their status was quite honorable. Furthermore, there were many career opportunities open to a skillful mamluk (slave soldier), and the higher standards of living available in the Islamic Middle East, meant there was often little resistance to being taken (as a slave) in Central Asia and south-eastern Europe.”

One can certainly imagine the throngs of girls and boys in Greece, Serbia and Central Asia clamoring to be taken away from their families to be circumcised, to become sexual slaves, or to be castrated to guard harems as eunuchs, or, in other cases, to be raised in barracks with the sole purpose of becoming brainwashed slave-soldiers.

Islamic Spanish society was also heavily dependent on slaves. For example, Abd al-Rahman had 3,750 slaves in his court, 6,300 sexual slaves in his harem, and 13,750 slave soldiers. Furthermore, slaves were a major export of the kingdom, particularly eunuchs (castrated Christian males) since sex segregation is an important aspect in Islam, eunuchs were considered harmless to women and integral to interact with them. Racism was also heavily embedded in their society - Africans were described as fickle, foolish and ignorant and Arabs valued white slave girls at almost 15 times that of African slave girls.

In Moorish Spain, sharia law was the law of the land which the specific form was the Maliki school of Islamic jurisprudence (which is prominent in North Africa). The Maliki school, far from being particularly liberal and tolerant, is one of the more conservative schools though not the most conservative one (the dubious honor goes to the Hanbali school, predominant in the Arabian Peninsula). The Maliki school includes many niceties like female genital mutilation (even for adult sexual slaves) and banned musical instruments, singing, paintings and sculptures. The law even went so far as to order a man who bought a non-Muslim sex slave and discovered she was a singer to return her (WTF!). Obviously, as Fernandez-Morera admits, the elites in Islamic Spain (as all over the world) often ignored the law. Non-Muslim slave singers and dancers are tolerated and even coveted. However, he is right to remind his readers that lapses in the application of law do not constitute a positive culture–much less a shining example of “paradise.”

Even under such conditions, bloody persecutions still happened against non-Muslims minorities. In 1066, a Muslim mob massacred the Jewish community of Granada because their rabbi Joseph ibn Naghrella became the vizier to the emir Badis al-Muzzafar, crucifying him and killed over 4,000 people in one day. For Christians, there were the 48 Martyrs of Córdoba who were executed under sharia law for charges of blasphemy or apostasy.

Perfectus - April 18, 850. A priest in Córdoba beheaded for denouncing Islam.

Isaac - June 3, 851. Born to a wealthy Córdoban family, he was well educated and fluent in Arabic which helped him rise quickly to the position of exceptor rei publicae in the Moorish government. He resigned in order to become a monk at his family’s monastery of Tábanos, a few miles from Córdoba. One day he left his retreat and returned to the emir’s palace where he proclaimed his faith in Christ in front of the court. He was arrested and subsequently beheaded.

Sancho - (also known as Sanctius, Sancius) June 5, 851. Born in Albi in Septimania (modern-day France), he was taken to Córdoba in Al-Andalus as a prisoner of war, educated at the royal court, and enrolled in the guards of the Emir. He was executed by impalement for his refusal to embrace Islam.

Peter, Walabonsus, Sabinian, Wistremundus, Habentius and Jeremiah - June 7, 851. Peter was a priest; Walabonsus, a deacon; Sabinian and Wistremundus, monks of St Zoilus in Córdoba in Al-Andalus; Habentius, a monk of St Christopher’s; Jeremiah, a very old man, had founded the monastery of Tábanos, near Córdoba. For publicly denouncing Muhammad they were executed under Abderrahman in Córdoba. Jeremiah was scourged to death; the others were beheaded.

Sisenandus - July 16, 851. Born in Beja in Portugal, he became a deacon in the church of St Acisclus in Córdoba. He was beheaded under Abd ar-Rahman II.

Paul of St Zoilus - July 20, 851. A deacon in Córdoba who belonged to the monastery of St Zoilus and who ministered to Christians imprisoned by the Muslims. He was beheaded.

Theodemir - July 25, 851. A monk executed in Córdoba in Al-Andalus under Abd ar-Rahman II.

Flora and Maria - November 24, 851. These two women were both the offspring of marriages between a Christian and a Muslim. In addition, Maria was the sister of Walabonsus, who had been executed earlier. Flora’s father, who died when she was very young, was a Muslim, and so her Christianity was legally defined as apostasy. Although Maria and Flora denounced Islam and proclaimed their Christian faith in court together, Maria was executed for blasphemy and Flora for apostasy.

Gumesindus and Servusdei - January 13, 852. Gusemindus, a parish-priest, and Servusdei, a monk, were executed in Cordoba under Abd ar-Rahman II.

Leovigild and Christopher - August 20, 852. Leovigild was a monk and pastor in Córdoba and Christopher a monk of the monastery of St Martin de La Rojana near Córdoba. They were executed in Córdoba under Abd ar-Rahman II.

Emilas and Jeremiah - September 15, 852. Two young men, the former of whom was a deacon, imprisoned and beheaded in Cordoba under the Emir Abderrahman.

Rogellus and Servus-Dei - September 16, 852. A monk and his young disciple executed in Córdoba for publicly denouncing Islam inside a mosque. They were the first Christian martyrs executed under Muhammad I.

Fandilas - June 13, 853. A priest and Abbot of Peñamelaria near Córdoba. He was beheaded in Córdoba by order of Muhammad I.

Anastasius, Felix, and Digna - June 14, 853. Anastasius was a deacon of the church of St. Acisclus in Córdoba, who became a monk at nearby Tábanos. Felix was born in Alcalá of a Berber family, became a monk in Asturias but joined the monastery at Tábanos, hoping for martyrdom. Digna belonged to the convent there.

Benildis - June 15, 853. Anastasius’ execution inspired this woman of Cordoba to choose martyrdom herself the next day. Her ashes were thrown into the Guadalquivir.

Columba - September 17, 853. Born in Córdoba and a nun at Tábanos, she was detained with the rest of the nuns, to prevent them from giving themselves up to the courts, when the Emirate closed the monastery in 852. She escaped, openly denounced Muhammad and was beheaded.

Pomposa - September 19, 853. Another nun, from the monastery of San Salvador at Peñamelaria. She escaped the imprisonment of the nuns, went before the court and was executed, despite protests from her fellow nuns.

Abundius - July 11, 854. A parish priest in Ananelos, a village near Córdoba. He was arrested for having maligned Muhammad. Unlike most of the other martyrs, Abundius was betrayed by others and did not volunteer to face the Emir’s court. He was beheaded and his body was thrown to the dogs. His feast day is celebrated on July 11.

Amator, Peter and Louis - April 30, 855. Amator was born in Martos, near Córdoba, where he was an ordained priest. Together with a monk named Peter and a layman called Louis (Ludovicus), the brother of the previous martyr Paul, he was executed by the Emirate for blaspheming Islam.

Witesindus - (also known as Witesind) 855. A Christian layman from Cabra, who had converted to Islam but later recanted; he was executed for apostasy.

Elias, Paul and Isidore - April 17, 856. Elias, born in Beja in Portugal and a priest in Córdoba, was executed in his old age by the Moors, together with the young monks Paul and Isidore, two of his students.

Argymirus - (also known as Argimirus, Argimir) June 28, 856. Argimir, a nobleman from Cabra, was Emir Muhammad I’s censor. He was deprived of his office on account of his faith and became a monk. He was accused by others of having insulted the prophet Muhammad and publicly proclaimed the divinity of Jesus. Argimir was offered mercy if he renounced Christianity and professed Islam; he refused, and was executed.

George, Aurelius and Natalia; Sabigotho, Felix and Liliosa – July 27 c. 852. Martyrs in Córdoba under Emir Abd ar-Rahman II. Aurelius and Felix, with their wives, Natalia and Liliosa, were Iberians whose family backgrounds, although religiously mixed, legally required them to profess Islam. After given four days to recant, they were condemned as apostates for revealing their previously secret Christian faith. The deacon George was a monk from Palestine who was arrested along with the two couples. Though offered a pardon as a foreigner, he chose to denounce Islam again and die with the others.

Aurea (also known as Aura) – July 19, 856. Born in Córdoba in Al-Andalus and a daughter of Muslim parents. She witnesses the execution of her brothers, Adolphus and John on 27 September 822 (their feast day).In her widowhood she quietly became a Christian and a nun at Cuteclara, where she remained for more than twenty years. She was discovered by Muslim relatives, brought before a judge, and renounced her Christianity under duress. However, she regretted this, and continued to practice Christianity in secret. When her family discovered this, she was again brought before a court, refused to repent a second time, and was executed.

Rudericus (Roderick) and Salomon (Solomon) – March 13, 857. Roderick was a priest in Cabra who was betrayed by his Muslim brother, who falsely accused him of converting to Islam and then returning to Christianity (i.e. apostasy). In prison he met his fellow-martyr, Salomon. They were both executed in Córdoba.

Sandila (also known as Sandalus, Sandolus, Sandulf) – September 3 c. 855. Executed in Córdoba under the Emirate

Eulogius of Cordoba – March 11, 859. A prominent priest in Córdoba Al-Andalus during this period. Outstanding for his courage and learning, he encouraged some of the voluntary martyrs and wrote “The Memorial of the Saints” for their benefit. He himself was executed for aiding and abetting apostasy by hiding and protecting a young girl St. Leocritia that had converted from Islam.

Leocritia (also known as Lucretia) – March 15, 859. A young girl in Córdoba. Her parents were Muslims, but she was converted to Christianity by a relative. On Eulogius’s advice and with his aid, Leocritia escaped her home and went into hiding. Once found, both were arrested. Eulogius, after years of being in and out of prison and encouraging voluntary martyrdom, was executed for proselytization, and Leocritia for apostasy.

To quote one such poet of the time, Abu Ishaqa, about the massacres of infidels:

Do not consider it a breach of faith to kill them, the breach of faith would be to let them carry on. They have violated our covenant with them, so how can you be held guilty against the violators? How can they have any pact when we are obscure and they are prominent? Now we are humble, beside them, as if we were wrong and they were right!

The Consequences of these Persecutions

Because they were fighting a merciless enemy, the Iberian Christians had to adopt a “militant holy warrior” to counter this menace. It was best exemplified with Alonso Pérez de Guzman, an Spanish nobleman whose city was being besieged by Arabs. When they captured his son and threatened to kill him unless if he surrendered the city what did he do?

He threw them a knife so they could kill him with it.

"I did not beget a son to be made use of against my country, but that he should serve her against her foes. Should Don Juan put him to death, he will but confer honour on me, true life on my son, and on himself eternal shame in this world and everlasting wrath after death."

On the conclusion of Iberian victory over the Moors, the Iberian powers, Spain and Portugal didn't stop their warring against the Muslims solely in their homelands—they extended the conflict against Islam overseas. The Spanish under the Habsburg dynasty soon became the champions of Roman Catholicism in Europe and the Mediterranean against the encroaching threat of the Ottoman Empire. In a similar vein, the Portuguese also extended the Reconquista, this time against Muslim states overseas. The conquest of Ceuta marked the beginning of Portuguese expansion into Muslim Africa. Soon, the Portuguese also went into conflict with the Ottoman Caliphate in the Mediterranean, Indian Ocean and Southeast Asia as the Portuguese conquered the Ottomans' allies: the Sultanate of Adal in East Africa, the Sultanate of Delhi in South Asia and the Sultanate of Malacca in Southeast Asia. Meanwhile, the Spanish also went to war against the Sultanate of Brunei in Southeast Asia. The Spanish sent expeditions of Christianized Aztecs from Mexico to conquer and Christianize the Philippines, then a territory of the Sultanate of Brunei. Brunei itself was assaulted during the Castilian War. Spain also went to war against the Sultanates of Sulu, Maguindanao, and Lanao in the Spanish-Moro Conflict. The primary inspiration for these wars against Muslim states overseas was the Reconquista.

Now do you see why that had to happen?

[occupyvenus]

Every now and then, I wished that women would just collectively snap and start  stabbing men if they harass or molest them. Guy keeps staring at your boobs when he’s talking to you? Delicate, little stab into the shoulder. Guy gropes your ass? Not-so-delicate stab into the upper arm. Everything from little scratches that barely even qualify as bodily harm and are more of an inconvenience in your daily life BECAUSE IT HAPPENS JUST SO OFTEN, WHY WON’T WOMEN STOP PRICKING ME WITH NEEDLES all the way to serious stabs that cause lasting emotional damage and trauma, that happen just often enough so men are painfully aware of the risk at all times.  Do you get it???

Not only would I start my career as a very respectable Evolutionary Psychologist, making mad bank in talk shows and intellectual™ youtube channels: 

Evolutionary psychology tells us that women have evolved a natural tendency to perceive men as threatening and utilize attack as their best defense. BOTH (!!!) men and women have to be aware of this. Men, so they can avoid things that will trigger this ancient adaptionalist behavior, women, so they can be mindful of their impulses to misjudge male signals. Clearly a direct reaction to men having evolved the successful alternative reproductive strategy of rape and misreading female signals as an invitation for just that, as my colleagues have so eloquently pointed out in the last few decades.

If we just normalize this behavior enough, it will sooner or later be tolerated as just a normal thing that men have to deal with and every city council, college and HR department will hand out pamphlets with TIPS LIKE THESE: 

Be mindful of sending out ambiguous signals. Stabbings often happen because women misread your body language and facial expressions. Try to avoid anything that could be seen as threatening or confrontational e.g. long eye contact. 

If you are alone with a woman, be as timid and demure as possible. The best way to avoid a fight is to make it crystal-clear that you aren’t here for one. 

Always be aware of the risks when being alone with a woman: There is no one around to help should she decide to stab you and no witnesses to verify that you didn’t provoke the stabbing in some form or another. There’s also a growing public awareness of fake stab accusations (men passing off little injuries that they acquired under other different circumstances as female-rage-attacks for attention and other motives), further complicating private encounters. 

Do not emphasize the growth of your facial hair (shave your beard) or your biological tendency to grow muscles (don’t artificially increase the size of your muscles by working out). Both these things draw attention to your naturally high testosterone level and could trigger a fight-response in women. 

Wear saggy clothing - especially if you are naturally bulky - to hide your muscular physique. Avoid tight t-shirts that draw attention to you biceps. It might be nothing but a part of your body to you, but showcasing your physical strength in public could send out the wrong signals. If you don’t intent to use the muscles you are showing off, why show them off in the first place? 

Be careful when presenting yourself in an overly masculine way. This could very easily be misconstrued as an attempt to seem aggressive or dominant and thus invite aggressive behavior from the people around you.

Alcohol lowers your inhibitions, never overdo it and never go out  drinking alone. You won’t be able to accurately judge situations or the implications of your behavior. It’s best to only go out with a group of women to minimize the risks. Other women keep stabby women at bay. 

Ask a female friend to walk you home at night. Women are far less likely to stab you if you're with another woman. Female company keeps the femme-stabs away. 

!!! Most importantly: You are not responsible for being stabbed!!! Nothing about your behavior justifies being stabbed!!! However, just as you lock your front door to discourage burglars, you can take some precautions to keep yourself safe!!!

I just think that would make things fair. Even the playing field. 

Would some of us go to jail for assault and battery? Sure. Is the satisfaction of stabbing the guy who groped your ass in the subway, leaving him not only with a scar but also the knowledge that this one time he didn’t just get away unscathed with treating random women like trash worth a few months in prison? ... maybe. And after centuries of keeping our contribution to violent crime in the lower double digits this might be the most gender-equalizing initiative since the suffragettes got us the right to vote. 

But alas, I don’t know how to get all the women in the world on board with this, and so I’ll just have to sit here and wait for the revolution to come on it’s own or for men to finally get their shit together. 

[thebiasrekkers]

No Words, 5

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Type: Series

Genre: Idol, Poly, Interracial, Tall Female, Smut, Angst, Fluff [if you squint]

Warning: Swearing. Sexual Tension. Angsty.

Words: 3193

Time is irrelevant, right? Or is time relevant?

Taehyung couldn’t figure out which it was, honestly. It was as if everything was crawling around him, years had passed as he waited for the elevator. He was positive that one whole year had passed. It was impatience, that’s all. Because Jeongguk not only called him out - he put him on notice. That while he was making eyes at the beautiful PD? There were other eyes following his. She was unique, stubborn, headstrong, and all the things that most women around them were not. Of course, there is that stereotypical response that most men were interested in American women for the hell of it.

Especially if they happen to be African American. There was a whole mess that went into that - but the boys didn’t pay attention to it. They had millions of fans of every race, creed, and sexuality. They saw their message reflected in the faces of the world. They could learn from more than just media about the world.

They loved their fans. The Army was a rainbow of love and acceptance. That’s what they wanted - it’s what they shaped. It never occurred that they would get the chance to consider love from someone outside of Korea.

But, here he was standing near the elevator. His fingers with a chokehold on his cellphone. His teeth grinding with his patience and irritation. He didn’t know if it was love. But it was something. There was something he hadn’t felt before for anyone woman. He felt it for her. He wanted to figure out what it was. He wanted to get a chance to identify this sensation that tingles through him when she’s near.

And he couldn’t do that if someone got in his way. He couldn’t accomplish that goal if someone attempts to steal her attention.

Ding.

The elevator door opened to the scene of a couple making out in the corner of the elevator. He hissed his irritation, causing them to split. The avoided his seething gaze as they ducked out of the elevator. He kept slamming the button to close the door. When it closed? He sighed heavily, leaning his head on the metal wall.

He managed a couple of PDs to find out where they were going to be. It had already been two hours since they left. “Come on. Come on!” growling as he waited for a reply. He messaged his driver to meet him downstairs. Tae slid a hand in his pocket while exiting the elevator.

Eyes were on him as he swept through the lobby regal as a Prince. The Visual could only quirk the corner of his lips as he walked outside. The driver opened the door, jogging around to the driver’s side afterward.

“Do you know where they are?” Tae managed to keep the beast out of his voice.

“Oh, yeah. I thought you weren’t going? Jeongguk said that you were tired when the other drivers were gathering.” The driver furrowed his brow in the rearview mirror. He noticed the dark gaze on V’s face and shrugged it off.

“I changed my mind.” Tae leaned back with his arm across the back of the seat. “I got a second wind after a power nap.” A renewed vigor to protect a vested interest, actually. The driver chuckled, pulling off and heading to the local norebang.

The lights flickered across his face adding an eerie shine to his eyes. He chewed on the tip of his thumb. His wrist flicked that Rolex to spy the time. Tae groaned, letting his head fall back against the headrest.

                                  ..you’re not the only one.

He cursed under his breath as they jumped on the expressway. It’s now pushing to the three-hour mark. His fingers dug into his leg as it bounced. “We should be there in about twenty minutes, V.” The driver announced as Tae’s phone suddenly pinged with notifications. He paused, suddenly petrified at what he might see.

The boys were having a good time, well the boys sans Suga. He apparently had returned after spending an hour with the rowdy bunch. RM had also departed slightly after Suga. That was typical, honestly. Jin could be hit or miss, but the eldest tended to make sure the rest didn’t overdo it. There were pictures of aegyo done badly, delicious food, and group pictures.

He swallowed hard as he flipped through photos. The PDs were at a grill table, stuffing their faces, unflattering pictures of hungry staff. He chuckled lightly as he scrolled upward. The drinks in the air as they congratulated themselves.

Taehyung slowed his scroll as his eyes landed on her. She was wearing a dress?!?! He felt the saliva pool in his mouth as he noticed the bolero styled jacket she wore. There were a few tattoos on her arm that it didn’t cover.

But what it did cover? Was the spot on her collarbone where he marked her. The shoulders were full and paired with that little jacket? It covered up his handiwork. “Clever girl.” He smirked. Continuing to scroll, he pieced it all together. It seemed like there was nothing to worry about.

So it seemed.

Then he got to the next set of pictures that set his teeth on edge. All the PDs were grouped together. Then most of the males were in playful positions with the females. The females were all arranged in some girl group or choreography pose. Then the rest of the boys took funny pictures with the girls.

She took a picture with Jin, a toast.

There was a video of the idol dance challenge with her, Hobi, Jimin, and Gguk. They all took turns with different staff doing the dance. She took a picture hugging Jimin. He knew that she was aware that her height was a point of discussion. There was light teasing, of course. She embraced her height all to bolster her own confidence in her abilities. There was a running joke that she wouldn’t deal with anyone shorter - except Jimin.

Jimin got a pass. They’d all erupt in laughter, but Jimin puffed his chest, tucking his arms out to the side as if to swell himself even more. “Yah! That means I’m closer than any of you!” They all would laugh as she ducked out of the room. Taehyung could spot the blush under the caramel tones of her skin.

“We’re here.” The driver stretched as he parked with the other row of vans. They mostly had the place to themselves. “God, I’m starving. I can’t wait to get something to eat.” He opened the door for the idol.

Tae smirked as he stepped, “That’s funny. I was just thinking the same thing.” He closed his phone on the last picture of Jeongguk back, hugging her. “…I’m absolutely ravenous.” Tae offered a smile that would make a villain quiver. His hand slid into his pocket as the driver ran to open the door for him.

They stepped inside to the smell of meat cooking, merriment, and singing? Oh yes. Oh yes, there was singing as the liquor flowed. Tae’s predatory air must have itched some of the staff because they all seemed to turn as his proximity to them increased. Red faces, lazy smiles, and flailing arms beckoned him into the chaotic fold.

“Hey, V?!” Unison.

He turned on the charm as he leaned in to inhale the smoke of barbecue. “Hey, hey!” Hands were shaking him or pulling him.

“Come eat with us!”

“Here’s a drink for you!”

“You have t-to dance with Hobi!”

“Taehyung-ah, c-can you do the flower? The aegyo has been so bad.”

“Yes, cleanse our souls!”

There was laughter mixed with the same requests they make when they are well behind their alcohol tolerance. He held up his hands in surrender, but he accepted the first shot of soju. “Let me get some of this in me, and we’ll see what happens.” They cheered as glasses were raised with a shout of Ganbei! More soju was ordered and consumed, he moved from table to table greeting everyone. He didn’t want to put too much focus on his current obsession. Finally, he walked toward the back, where mostly the main faces were located. She had her arm wrapped around Jimin’s shoulders, leaning on Jeongguk’s sturdy frame, Hobi and Jin had their arms on each other’s shoulders.

They were singing something, slightly off-key, laughing and rocking with the other PDs at the grill table. They would stop randomly to make ssam.

“Jiminie, say ‘ah.’” She chuckled as a slice of meat, and vegetable-filled lettuce wrap was stuffed into the main dancer’s mouth.

“Ah, noona! You’re getting really good at these combinations.” He closed his eyes blissfully. Tae’s hands were balled into fists in his pocket. He stood off to the side, watching them. Jeongguk turned to her with a pout.

“I’m getting jealous,” Gguk spoke toward her ear. Her brow lifted with a side-long glance. Finally, she rolled her eyes and recreated the same combination. The wrap hovered in front of Jeongguk’s face. His lips were in a thin line as he arched a brow.

She sighed heavily, “Seriously?” A soft chuckle escaped as he scrunched his nose at her. “Ugh, fine.” She lifted the other hand under his chin. “Ggukie, say ‘ah.’” The maknae nodded his satisfaction and did as instructed. She was a little less gentle this time. The ssam was stuffed thoroughly into his mouth. He needed to really open his mouth to start chewing. She looked satisfied with the bit of difficulty.

“Noona, it is good. But, my mouth can only open so wide.” They all laughed at the whole two minutes it took for him to swallow the food.

“Then maybe you’ll make it the first time, eh?” A brow ticked upward as she stuffed bean sprouts into her mouth.

They all laughed.

She sighed softly, another piece of meat snagged from the sizzling surface. Just a few hours earlier, she had stumbled to her room. Her legs weak, her soul shattered, her mind a mess, and so were her pants.

“Thank god for dark fabric.” She peeled out of her clothing, laid on the bed for all of twenty minutes before she got a message. They wanted to go out? But, what if…? She was informed that Tae was tired and wouldn’t be going.

“Why not.” She found a white linen dress, a small jacket, and flats. There was an angry hickey forming just on her collarbone. At least the dress and jacket covered it. But, she took a little foundation and setting powder to it. As insurance, it didn’t look like a blended nightmare.

They started with soju first, then food. Meaning they were all tipsy and hungry by the time the meat was ready.

She was glad to get out. Her gaze swept around the table as they all laughed, talking about mishaps along the way. She was sandwiched between Jikook, while Hobi swatted at her arm when he made a joke. Jin waved a hand in her direction as she countered a dad joke.

The laughter kept coming, but why did she feel strange? Her brow furrowed as she pulled another piece of meat from the grill. You know that feeling. The one that makes you feel queasy, laced with fear as she looked up from the table.

Like a sense of impending doom weighing down on her head. Where was it coming from? What was it?

Ah.

That’s what it was.

Kim fucking Taehyung. Looking at them. Looking like something from a page in an art book. The man just had a presence. His arms were crossed, his eyes dark and narrowed - focused on that table.

Focused on her. She narrowed her eyes, reaching for the bottle of peach soju. She took the bottle down to half, followed by a gulp of cider. Jeongguk noticed V first. His gaze slid over to the Visual as they laughed.

He knew he was watching them as he goaded her into feeding him. His fingers danced over her shoulders, and she barely paid it any mind. Gguk smirked, his tongue prodding his cheek as he turned back to hyungs making bad jokes. That bright, ‘bunny,’ smile plastered on his face as Hobi groaned about Jin’s humor. Tae’s eyes burned dark at the sight before him. It was almost as if he willed her to look at him.

Their eyes met as he tilted his head back. He knew he had her captive when the tip of his tongue touched along his lip. She stopped chewing her food for a moment. Her laughter suddenly absent from the conversation caused Jimin to look up lazily, “Ah! Taehyung-ah!” His friend, obviously intoxicated, waved him over.

Jeongguk pretended not to hear as Tae appeared with that boxy smile plastered to his face. The maknae knew what the ‘actor’ was capable of. Just like he looked ready to toss the whole table moments ago, now he was laughing and clapping the others on the shoulders.

“Ah, Taehyung-ah! Tell Jin-hyung he’s not that funny.” Hobi groaned, holding his stomach as if some phantom pain tore him up inside. Tae gave the dance captain a flat look. “Hyung, I think you should consider your own jokes first.”

The whole table lost it.

Jimin laughed so hard he slid out of his chair, almost taking her with him. “Yah, Park Jimin! I will send you home if you can’t hold your alcohol!” She couldn’t keep a straight face. Jeongguk pulled her snug against his side as Jimin cackled on the floor.

She blinked rapidly at the sudden and obvious proximity of the maknae. “Uh, t-thanks,” She murmured. Even though she was a few centimeters taller than him? The current position had her under his arm and leaned into his pectoral. He tilted his head down, that smile on his face. He was so adorable - ah, I’m doing it again. She had to chastise herself each time. Jeongguk was getting up in that age frame where he wants to be seen as manly.

There was nothing wrong with that. Sure, he grew up in front of billions of people. You don’t want to hear those adjectives for the rest of your life. He was doing his best to show different sides of himself. And she respected his work and his work ethic. So the least she could do? Is respect his wish to not be thrown into the realm of ‘childlike.’

Then again?

She’s seen all of them shirtless, sweaty, and working out. There was nothing child-like about Jeon Jeongguk.

Oh, honey. We need to lay off the soju! She chuckled to herself. Taehyung took a seat at the table, he reached across and stole her peach soju! Suddenly, she blinked, staring at the maknae’s hand on her shoulder. Did…did he just tighten his grip? “Ggukie, m’you can let me up now.” Her gaze was on his hand - his gaze was on Taehyung. “Sorry, noona.” He chuckled as the pressure eased off her shoulder.

Jimin crawled back up to join the table. He rubbed his forehead leaning into her with a pout. “I think I broke something.” There was a devious look on his face as she shook her head. She stuffed another lettuce leaf offering. He cute smile as he opened his mouth and chomped down.

“Mm,” He mumbled through the chew. “…feel better already.”

“Jeongguk, you have to sing for us!” One of the crew members plopped between them. “Come ooon, we’re waiting.” The maknae gave an exaggerated sigh as a smile broke.

“If I have to…” He turned to her and offered a hand. “Shall we?”

She blinked up at him with a mouth after stuffing her own face with a wrap. “Huh?” A hard swallow had her reaching for her cider. “Uh, n-no! I couldn’t!” She shook her hands rapidly as the other staff started to waggle their brows.

“Come on! Go to sing with him! You have to! He asked you!” She was waving her hands in surrender, and Gguk took that opportunity to grab them. He hauled her up from her seat, damn this strong individual?!

“I-I..” She stuttered, taking her hand back into one of the karaoke rooms. He laughed heartily as they disappeared down the hallway. The sounds of others singing loud, drunk, and somewhat okay assaulted her ears.

“Aish,” He hissed. Squinting one eye as he tilted his head from the noise. “Geez, no volume control.”

“Thank the alcohol. All the inhibitors are off.” She chuckled, following him. They found a room at the deep end of the hall. It’s one of the rooms that let you broadcast out to the restaurant. The rooms were soundproofed, contrary to popular belief, but people out sang the buffer. He picked up the microphones and handed one over to her.

Her hands began to sweat as he flipped through the song list. “Mmm. Ok, noona. What should be sing? Shall I pick a girl group song? One of ours?” Jeongguk smirked as he turned to her. She was so nervous. It was so cute.

He could see why Tae found her attractive. There was just something about her. Even he couldn’t put his finger on it. She sometimes forgot the rules and would speak up when she shouldn’t. He couldn’t use his fingers and toes to count how many times she’s gotten into altercations. Everybody’s view of perfection was different.

But when they were overseas? She really tapped into the pulse of the ARMY. There were things that could be better, that could have more impact. That’s what she stood for and somehow? She managed to find a compromise.

“Uhm. C-can we do Wildflower by Park Hyo Shin?” Jeongguk shook himself as she spoke. Had he been staring at her this whole time? She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was different tonight. Usually, they were used to frizzy curls framing her face or tucked into a bun on her head. It looks like she took a flat iron to it. It was silky, smooth, and cascading over her shoulders.

She turned toward him as he shifted his gaze to the floor quickly. There was quickening in his pulse he wasn’t prepared for. “Uh, r-right, yea. That’s a good song.” He swallowed hard schooling his expression into something light and neutral.

The good thing about singing with Jeongguk? He really knows how to make a person look good. She could carry a decent tune on her own. After some a few brushes with death, her gospel choir soprano turned into a low alto. Almost like Taehyung, she could dole out a high note if need be. But, she kept her tone easy and low - for a female that is.

The first piano notes tapered in on a slow staccato. Jeongguk gave her a look indicating she could take the lead. She took a deep breath, the microphone trembling with her fingers.

Jeongguk’s brow furrowed, chastising himself for that silly moment. Then she opened her mouth.

[darknytemare]

No Words pt 5

BTS - V Imagine - Tall Girl - Interracial - Dramatic Time is irrelevant, right? Or is time relevant? 

Taehyung couldn’t figure out which it was, honestly. It was as if everything was crawling around him, years had passed as he waited for the elevator. He was positive that one whole year had passed. It was impatience, that’s all. Because Jeongguk not only called him out - he put him on notice. That while he was making eyes at the beautiful PD? There were other eyes following his. She was unique, stubborn, headstrong and all the things that most women around them were not. Of course, there is that stereotypical response that most men were interested in American women for the hell of it. 

Especially if they happen to be African American. There was a whole mess that went into that - but the boys didn’t pay attention to it. They had millions of fans of every race, creed, and sexuality. They saw their message reflected in the faces of the world. It was possible for them to learn from more than just media about the world.

They loved their fans. The Army was a rainbow of love and acceptance. That’s what they wanted - it’s what they shaped. It never occurred that they would get the chance to consider love from someone outside of Korea. 

But, here he was standing near the elevator. His fingers with a chokehold on his cellphone. His teeth grinding with his patience and irritation. He didn’t know if it was love. But it was something. There was something he hadn’t felt before, for anyone woman. He felt it for her. He wanted to figure out what it was. He wanted to get a chance to identify this sensation that tingles through him when she’s near.

And he couldn’t do that if someone got in his way. He couldn’t accomplish that goal if someone attempts to steal her attention. 

Ding.

The elevator door opened to the scene of a couple making out in the corner of the elevator. He hissed his irritation causing them to split. The avoided his seething gaze as they ducked out of the elevator. He kept slamming the button to close the door. When it closed? He sighed heavily leaning his head on the metal wall.

He managed a couple of PDs to find out where they were going to be. It had already been two hours since they left. “Come on. Come on!,” growling as he waited for a reply. He messaged his driver to meet him downstairs. Tae slid a hand in his pocket while exiting the elevator. 

Eyes were on him as he swept through the lobby regal as a Prince. The Visual could only quirk the corner of his lips as he walked outside. The driver opened the door jogging around to the driver's side afterward.

“Do you know where they are?” Tae managed to keep the beast out of his voice. 

“Oh, yeah. I thought you weren’t going? Jeongguk said that you were tired when the other drivers were gathering.” The driver furrowed his brow in the rearview mirror. He noticed the dark gaze on V’s face and shrugged it off.

“I changed my mind.” Tae leaned back with his arm across the back of the seat. “I got a second wind after a power nap.” A renewed vigor to protect a vested interest, actually. The driver chuckled pulling off and heading to the local norebang.

The lights flickered across his face adding an eerie shine to his eyes. He chewed on the tip of his thumb. His wrist flicked that Rolex to spy the time. Tae groaned, letting his head fall back against the headrest. 

                                   ..you’re not the only one.

He cursed under his breath as they jumped on the expressway. It’s now pushing to the three-hour mark. His fingers dug into his leg as it bounced. “We should be there in about twenty minutes, V.” The driver announced as Tae’s phone suddenly pinged with notifications. He paused, suddenly petrified at what he might see. 

The boys were having a good time, well the boys sans Suga. He apparently had returned after spending an hour with the rowdy bunch. RM had also departed slightly after Suga. That was typical, honestly. Jin could be hit or miss, but the eldest tended to make sure the rest didn’t overdo it. There were pictures of aegyo done badly, delicious food, and group pictures. 

He swallowed hard as he flipped through photos. The PDs were at a grill table, stuffing their faces, unflattering pictures of hungry staff. He chuckled lightly as he scrolled upward. The drinks in the air as they congratulated themselves. 

Taehyung slowed his scroll as his eyes landed on her. She was wearing a dress?!?! He felt the saliva pool in his mouth as he noticed the bolero styled jacket she wore. There were a few tattoos on her arm that it didn’t cover. But what it did cover? Was the spot on her collarbone where he marked her. The shoulders were full and paired with that little jacket? It covered up his handiwork. “Clever girl.” He smirked. Continuing to scroll he pieced it all together. It seemed like there was nothing to worry about. 

So it seemed.

Then he got to the next set of pictures that set his teeth on edge. All the PDs were grouped together. Then most of the males were in playful positions with the females. The females were all grouped in some girl group or choreography pose. Then the rest of the boys took playful pictures with the girls. 

She took a picture with Jin, a toast.

There was a video of the idol dance challenge with her, Hobi, Jimin, and Gguk. They all took turns with different staff doing the dance. She took a picture hugging Jimin. He knew that she was aware that her height was a point of discussion. There was light teasing, of course. She embraced her height all in order to bolster her own confidence in her abilities. There was a running joke that she wouldn’t deal with anyone shorter - except Jimin.

Jimin got a pass. They’d all erupt in laughter but Jimin puffed his chest, tucking his arms out to the side as if to swell himself even more. “Yah! That means I’m closer than any of you!” They all would laugh as she ducked out of the room. Taehyung could spot the blush under the caramel tones of her skin. 

“We’re here.” The driver stretched as he parked with the other row of vans. They essentially had the place to themselves. “God, I’m starving. I can’t wait to get something to eat.” He opened the door for the idol.

Tae smirked as he stepped, “That’s funny. I was just thinking the same thing.” He closed his phone on the last picture of Jeongguk back hugging her. “...I’m absolutely ravenous.” Tae offered a smile that would make a villain quiver. His hand slid into his pocket as the driver ran to open the door for him. 

They stepped inside to the smell of meat cooking, merriment, and singing? Oh yes. Oh yes, there was singing as the liquor flowed. Tae’s predatory air must have itched some of the staff because they all seemed to turn as his proximity to them increased. Red faces, lazy smiles, and flailing arms beckoned him into the chaotic fold. 

“Hey, V?!” Unison. 

He turned on the charm as he leaned in to inhale the smoke of barbecue. “Hey, hey!” There were hands shaking him or pulling him. 

“Come eat with us!” 

“Here’s a drink for you!” 

“You have t-to dance with Hobi!”

“Taehyung-ah, c-can you do the flower? The aegyo has been so bad.”

“Yes, cleanse our souls!”

There was laughter mixed with the same requests they make when they are well behind their alcohol tolerance. He held up his hands in surrender, but he accepted the first shot of soju. “Let me get some of this in me and we’ll see what happens.” They cheered as glasses were raised with a shout of Ganbei! More soju was ordered and consumed, he moved from table to table greeting everyone. He didn’t want to put too much focus on his current obsession. Finally, he moved toward the back where mostly the main faces were located. She had her arm wrapped around Jimin’s shoulders, leaning on Jeongguk’s sturdy frame, Hobi and Jin had their arms on each other's shoulders.

They were singing something, slightly off-key, laughing and rocking with the other PDs at the grill table. They would stop randomly to make ssam. 

“Jiminie, say ‘ah’.” She chuckled as a slice of meat and vegetable-filled lettuce wrap was stuffed into the main dancer’s mouth. 

“Ah, noona! You’re getting really good at these combinations.” He closed his eyes blissfully. Tae’s hands were balled into fists in his pocket. He stood off to the side watching them. Jeongguk turned to her with a pout. 

“I’m getting jealous,” Gguk spoke toward her ear. Her brow lifted with a side-long glance. Finally, she rolled her eyes and recreated the same combination. The wrap hovered in front of Jeongguk’s face. His lips were in a thin line as he arched a brow.

She sighed heavily, “Seriously?” A soft chuckle escaped as he scrunched his nose at her. “Ugh, fine.” She lifted the other hand under his chin. “Ggukie, say ‘ah’.” The maknae nodded his satisfaction and did as instructed. She was a little less gentle this time. The ssam was stuffed thoroughly into his mouth. He needed to really open his mouth to start chewing. She looked satisfied with the bit of difficulty.

“Noona, it is good. But, my mouth can only open so wide.” They all laughed at the whole two minutes it took for him to swallow the food. 

“Then maybe you’ll make it the first time, eh?” A brow ticked upward as she stuffed bean sprouts into her mouth. 

They all laughed.

She sighed softly, another piece of meat snagged from the sizzling surface. Just a few hours earlier she had stumbled to her room. Her legs weak, her soul shattered, her mind a mess, and so were her pants.

“Thank god for dark fabric.” She peeled out of her clothing, laid on the bed for all of twenty minutes before she got a message. They wanted to go out? But, what if…? She was informed that Tae was tired and wouldn’t be going. 

“Why not.” She found a white linen dress, a small jacket, and flats. There was an angry hickey forming just on her collarbone. At least the dress and jacket covered it. But, she took a little foundation and setting powder to it. As insurance, it didn’t look like a blended nightmare. 

They started with soju first, then food. Meaning they were all tipsy and hungry by the time the meat was ready. 

She was glad to get out. Her gaze swept around the table as they all laughed, talking about mishaps along the way. She was sandwiched between Jikook, while Hobi swatted at her arm when he made a joke. Jin waved a hand in her direction as she countered a dad joke.

The laughter kept coming, but why did she feel strange? Her brow furrowed as she pulled another piece of meat from the grill. You know that feeling. The one that makes you feel queasy, laced with fear as she looked up from the table. 

Like a sense of impending doom weighing down on her head. Where was it coming from? What was it? 

Ah.

That’s what it was.

Kim fucking Taehyung. Looking at them. Looking like something from a page in an art book. The man just had a presence. His arms were crossed, his eyes dark and narrowed - focused on that table. 

Focused on her. She narrowed her eyes reaching for the bottle of peach soju. She took the bottle down to half, followed by a gulp of cider. Jeongguk noticed V first. His gaze slid over to the Visual as they laughed. 

He knew he was watching them as he goaded her into feeding him. His fingers danced over her shoulders and she barely paid it any mind. Gguk smirked, his tongue prodding his cheek as he turned back to hyungs making bad jokes. That bright, ‘bunny’, smile plastered on his face as Hobi groaned about Jin’s humor. Tae’s eyes burned dark at the sight before him. It was almost as if he willed her to look at him.

Their eyes met as he tilted his head back. He knew he had her captive when the tip of his tongue touched along his lip. She stopped chewing her food for a moment. Her laughter suddenly absent from the conversation caused Jimin to look up lazily, “Ah! Taehyung-ah!” His friend, obviously intoxicated, waved him over. 

Jeongguk pretended not to hear as Tae appeared with that boxy smile plastered to his face. The maknae knew what the ‘actor’ was capable of. Just like he looked ready to toss the whole table moments ago, now he was laughing and clapping the others on the shoulders.

“Ah, Taehyung-ah! Tell Jin-hyung he’s not that funny.” Hobi groaned, holding his stomach as if some phantom pain tore him up inside. Tae gave the dance captain a flat look. “Hyung, I think you should consider your own jokes first.” 

The whole table lost it. 

Jimin laughed so hard he slid out of his chair, almost taking her with him. “Yah, Park Jimin! I will send you home if you can’t hold your alcohol!” She couldn’t keep a straight face. Jeongguk pulled her snug against his side as Jimin cackled on the floor. 

She blinked rapidly at the sudden, and obvious proximity of the maknae. “Uh, t-thanks,” She murmured. Even though she was a few centimeters taller than him? The current position had her under his arm and leaned into his pectoral. He tilted his head down, that smile on his face. He was so adorable - ah, I’m doing it again. She had to chastise herself each time. Jeongguk was getting up in that age frame where he wants to be seen as manly.

There was nothing wrong with that. Sure, he grew up in front of billions of people. You don’t want to hear those adjectives for the rest of your life. He was doing his best to show different sides of himself. And she respected his work and his work ethic. So the least she could do? Is respect his wish to not be thrown into the realm of ‘childlike’. 

Then again? 

She’s seen all of them shirtless, sweaty, and working out. There was nothing child-like about Jeon Jeongguk. 

Oh, honey. We need to lay off the soju! She chuckled to herself. Taehyung took a seat the table, he reached across and stole her peach soju! Suddenly, she blinked, staring at the maknae’s hand on her shoulder. Did...did he just tighten his grip? “Ggukie, m’you can let me up now.” Her gaze was on his hand - his gaze was on Taehyung. “Sorry, noona.” He chuckled as the pressure eased off her shoulder.

Jimin crawled back up to join the table. He rubbed his forehead leaning into her with a pout. “I think I broke something.” There was a devious look on his face as she shook her head. She stuffed another lettuce leaf offering. He cute smile as he opened his mouth and chomped down. 

“Mm,” He mumbled through the chew. “...feel better already.” 

“Jeongguk you have to sing for us!” One of the crew members plopped between them. “Come ooon, we’re waiting.” The maknae gave an exaggerated sigh as a smile broke. 

“If I have to…” He turned to her and offered a hand. “Shall we?” 

She blinked up at him with a mouth after stuffing her own face with a wrap. “Huh?” A hard swallow had her reaching for her cider. “Uh, n-no! I couldn’t!” She shook her hands rapidly as the other staff started to waggle their brows. 

“Come on! Go sing with him! You have to! He asked you!” She was waving her hands in surrender, and Gguk took that opportunity to grab them. He hauled her up from her seat, damn this strong individual?! 

“I-I..” She stuttered taking her hand back into one of the karaoke rooms. He laughed heartily, as they disappeared down the hallway. The sounds of others singing loud, drunk, and somewhat okay assaulted her ears. 

“Aish,” He hissed. Squinting one eye as he tilted his head from the noise. “Geez, no volume control.”

“Thank the alcohol. All the inhibitors are off.” She chuckled following him. They found a room at the deep end of the hall. It’s one of the rooms that let you broadcast out to the restaurant. The rooms were soundproofed, contrary to popular belief, but people out sang the buffer. He picked up the microphones and handed one over to her. 

Her hands began to sweat as he flipped through the song list. “Mmm. Ok, noona. What should be sing? Shall I pick a girl group song? One of ours?” Jeongguk smirked, as he turned to her. She was so nervous. It was so cute. 

He could see why Tae found her attractive. There was just something about her. Even he couldn’t put his finger on it. She sometimes forgot the rules and would speak up when she shouldn’t. He couldn’t use his fingers and toes to count how many times she’s gotten into altercations. Everybody’s view of perfection was different. 

But, when they were overseas? She really tapped into the pulse of the ARMY. There were things that could be better, that could have more impact. That’s what she stood for and somehow? She managed to find a compromise. 

“Uhm. C-can we do Wildflower by Park Hyo Shin?” Jeongguk shook himself as she spoke. Had he been staring at her this whole time? She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was different tonight. Normally, they were used to frizzy curls framing her face or tucked into a bun on her head. It looks like she took a flat iron to it. It was silky, smooth, and cascading over her shoulders. 

She turned toward him as he shifted his gaze to the floor quickly. There was quickening in his pulse he wasn’t prepared for. “Uh, r-right, yea. That’s a good song.” He swallowed hard schooling his expression into something light and neutral. 

The good thing about singing with Jeongguk? He really knows how to make a person look good. She could carry a decent tune on her own. After some a few brushes with death, her gospel choir soprano turned into a low alto. Almost like Taehyung, she could dole out a high note if need be. But, she kept her tone easy and low - for a female that is.

The first piano notes tapered in on a slow staccato. Jeongguk gave her a look indicating she could take the lead. She took a deep breath, the microphone trembling with her fingers. 

Jeongguk’s brow furrowed chastising himself for that silly moment. Then she opened her mouth.

[destroyyourbinder]

stumbling blocks

This is why I can't uncritically believe that gender transition is good, that gender transition is justified, even if some people who have done it are satisfied with their decision. It is because to believe it is good or justified is to believe this.

There is a special class of female people who cannot thrive so long as they leave their body parts intact and unmodified, so long as they do not conceal from others that they have them. These people cannot live their best lives, or perhaps even tolerable lives, unless they undergo medical intervention to make various aspects of their bodies imitate various aspects of male bodies and unless other people studiously ignore or never know that they are female. This fact about this special class of female people has absolutely nothing to do with how female people are generally treated-- as subordinates, as sexual objects, as lacking full personhood legally and socially-- but instead comes from somewhere else entirely. If conditions improved so that no girl grew up scared of men raping or killing her, if conditions improved such that a girl did not grow up feeling like she would have to fight the weight of human history to achieve anything at all, if conditions improved so that female puberty did not mean the death of a woman's participation in her own potential, then there would still be a class of female people who wished to become like men and live like men, and who would feel horror at their own bodies insofar as they still were distinguishable, somehow and somewhere, from the body of someone male. In a world with no men there would still be a class of female people with inchoate longings for their breasts to disappear and something else, maybe incomprehensible in this female-only world, to happen to their genitals. Perhaps you could say that in a major city's hospital delivery ward today there will be a few infant girls who will be destined to be miserable, someday, so long as they cannot get a surgeon to slice open their bodies so that they and everyone they know can never be reminded again of the femaleness of their own flesh. Perhaps we can call this fact about this special class of females an illness, even though there is no other illness like this. There is no other illness that we say is synonymous with a desire, where the cure and the fulfillment are the same.

I truly can't believe that there is such a condition, that it is inevitable there are these such not-women, and they ought to be made more perfectly-not through scalpels and syringes. I can't believe that there are women who are essentially, necessarily limited by their womanhood, even a womanhood understood and lived without misogyny whatsoever. I can't believe that any woman's ideal and most meaningful life could depend fundamentally on rearranging her body and erasing herself as a woman in public view.

Are there happy trans men? I'm sure. Are they happy because they transitioned? Who knows. People incorporate all sorts of things into their growth and life stories, including those things deeply traumatic and those that never should have happened. Trans people often present themselves as infinitely fragile, but like all people, they are more resilient than they give themselves credit for. So I have to ask, given that there are those who have transitioned or had transgender-related interventions who are now happy, who claim they could not have even survived otherwise: if they would have failed to survive, what would have killed them?

Gender dysphoric people often cite the lives of older transsexuals and the most marginalized gender non-conforming people in order to give voice to their fears that their lives will be intolerable, dangerous, perhaps deadly, if they are not converted into the other sex or some reasonable facsimile. But inner identity turmoil did not kill these people: it was HIV/AIDS, gay bashing, violent johns, police brutality, medical neglect, alcoholism and drug abuse, domestic violence. These things are the result of discrimination, marginalization, misogyny, homophobia, institutional violence: all social and environmental factors. Transition is supposedly justified by something else entirely; as trans people remind us, not all of those beaten by their fathers or the cops or their husbands or their pimps end up wanting to be a different sex.

So then we cite those who died by suicide because they could not survive themselves. This is often the crux of the whole thing: it is justification for the utmost urgency of gender treatment and justification for the most radical forms of medical intervention, such as genital surgery and the transition of children. Transition may still be compelling for those who understand that they are trying to hide from the cruelties of the world, but it becomes a much sadder journey, one traversed with grief and depleted of personal validation. For those who believe or fear that the existence of their own bodies as they are will force their hand against themselves, it must seem liberating to be freed from this bizarre kind of danger: the danger that their body demands its own destruction should it fail to comply with the desires of its animating force.

What is this desire or need to be male and seen as male at the potential cost of one's life? Why would a female person hold both the desire to be male and the desire to die so long as being male is not realized? It seems reckless for medical professionals to treat such distress, a perverse threat against oneself, with something that purports to ease the threat by making the body comply. One should not make a policy of caving to a dictator, even if the dictator is yourself, and even it is you that gets to make your own demands. Because the question is the same as with all such narcissists: what if the body ceases to comply, what if the demands for compliance change, what if it's never enough?

I could manage to tolerate-- barely-- my own breasts so long as they were small, but in my early twenties they ballooned, and I wanted to die. I truly, deeply wanted to die. And then my scope broadened and broadened until I found myself staring at my toes in flip flops, next to the hairy and knobbly toes of my male friend J., and I thought the subcutaneous fat on my feet was an excellent reason to declare the end of all hope and go home to a furtive fistful of Benadryl and Tramadol and Valium and Vicodin, washed down with brandless 'tussin from the back of the fridge. Nobody noticed I was all fucked up, in and out of sleep for a couple days; I spent months of my life like this, often triggered by the most humiliating (then and now-- for different reasons) bullshit: the length of my palms, peach fuzz, the diameter of my areolas, the wear patterns of my jeans, a single "ma'am". Gender dysphoria is peculiar; it is both self-avoidance and self-holding one self-hostage. It's the pattern of many self-harming, self-dramatizing practices; there's a reason many trans men have eating disorders or are cutters.

Transmedicalists might stop me here to fret about framing gender dysphoria in terms of these mechanisms. But absolutely none of this follows the pattern of a neurological disorder. Who truly has a phantom beard or phantom lack-of-thigh-fat? What person unable to recognize the left side of their body as their own is ragingly envious of exactly half of everyone they meet? Nobody with neuropathy of their feet rigidly pretends they do not have them in public. And please tell me where "Ms." and "Mr." are represented in the body map.

When we revisit the question above, why hold both the desire to be male and the desire to die so long as one is not male, this all looks tremendously stupid. Female trans people have tied themselves to a chair and seem to be holding the end of the rope: why not just let go of the whole thing and be freed? And indeed, this is what many transphobes note and thereby ask of trans people. Just shut the fuck up, stop being so sensitive, just accept yourself already, you're never going to be really the other sex, quit whining about facts and threatening us over reality, go ahead and kill yourself and see if we care. So the trans solution to justifying themselves in the face of invalidating, insensitive-to-cruel questioning of dysphoria-logic is to locate the desire to be the other sex outside of their realm of responsibility. See, I was tied to the chair since I was born, and I really can't reach the knots! I have been cursed with this desire to be male and cannot be rid of it, so the only thing that can be done is to be rid of what conflicts with this desire.

What rid me of the majority of my dysphoria was not desperately trying to reach the knots. I could not "just accept myself". I did not "learn to love my body". I remained "too sensitive" no matter what I tried. The ironic key to dissolving my gender dysphoria was telling the transphobes that they were wrong. Not about biological sex or its permanence, about pronoun usage or whether trans women were real women and trans men real men, but about the fact that gender dysphoria was unjustified, stupid, a gratuitous sign of privilege, a plaything for the bored or a figment of psychosis.

I was not crazy: being female was truly bad. I was not delusional or dumb: I was channeling directly the history of women's existential despair. I was not a spoiled brat: I had suffered enough and did not want to suffer anymore.

When my dysphoria became justified it finally became within my reach, and slowly, slowly, I picked apart many thousands of twists and ties.

Was I responsible for my own dysphoria? In many ways, no. I think this is the tremendous fear of most trans people, and female ones in particular. If they take responsibility for healing their dysphoria they are supposedly responsible for its genesis, and this is unbearable. This phenomenon, more than any other, is what tells me gender dysphoria is not neurological, not inborn, not the ensoulment of a man in a woman's body, not just "identity" and its affirmation. It would not be unbearable to be saddled with causing your own distress at being female unless you really felt somewhere that your distress was for good reason and caused by factors outside your control.

I really didn't need to be responsible for it through and through to take enough responsibility to guide my way out. Maybe my head is truly predisposed in some way to have trouble with existing in a sack of meat or to set me in these stupid traps, but in a world where women were truly safe and free, I don't think I would have fallen into this one. I got to the point where I did not need to believe my dysphoria was inevitable or innate, a disease or disability or problem with my brain, to believe that it was ok for my feelings of rage and hopelessness to be channeled in that way. I did not need to prove those who challenged me wrong by proving that erasing myself would fix my lot, dammit. I could use my agency instead to tell them to fuck off. I could learn I had the right to validate my own self rather than to bounce in devastating insecurity between the opinions of Supporters and Enemies. And gradually and almost without realizing it, I found that it was not my body that was the problem, it was not my rejection of my body that was the problem, it was what my body meant, what my body supposedly allowed others to do to me, that I was not meaningfully allowed to object to any of this, and that there was a question in society about whether or not there was a me at all alongside the body. My dysphoria had gone inside out, gone color-inverted, I found old angry girl-child change in the upturned pockets of pants I didn't know I was still wearing.

My stumbling block is that I can't believe transition is more justified than a girl looking at her lot and saying: this is a bunch of fucking shit, peace out of this body, peace out of this world. I don't usually use such language, but here I am. My stumbling block is that I can't believe this girl needs her tits cut off more than she needs someone to tell her: I know. My stumbling block will always be that I don't believe the best use of an angry and desperate girl's crushed-but-surviving autonomy is for decision-making about which cosmetic surgery she'll get. My stumbling block will always be the part of me that sees above, the part that sees the twins of my own grief at seeing my body and sees my girlfriend's grief at seeing her scars.

And so a woman is never ruined, wasted, an idiot, ugly, crazy, a freak for choosing hormones or surgery. She is making a bargain. Informed consent goes far beyond understanding the medical consequences of injecting testosterone, of removing breast tissue or the uterus and ovaries; informed consent means understanding the terms of the bargain, that one is making a bargain at all. So long as we frame transition as surviving oneself, whether for reasons of treating a medical condition or simply tolerating the unfortunate condition of not-being-male, we cannot hope to approach informed decision-making for anything about transitioning genders. (How do the medical professions deal with approving the reasonableness of a patriarchal bargain? There is a reason I don't believe they should.)

And so long as critics of transition-- whether conservative or "compassionate" gender critical feminists-- frame the women and girls who are attracted to it as delusional, stupid, spoiled weirdos they will drive both the desire and inability to take responsibility for healing it even deeper. My challenge to you if you fall in this camp is to think harder about your own bargains. If you're straight or bi you've made more of them than any angry asshole with a dirt-stache and blue hair you could possibly meet on Tumblr. If you're a lesbian you've made more than you'll probably want to dig out. It was lesbian collective inability to see their own bargain-making that convinced me I was trans and not just an unfeminine and angry dyke: I wasn't bold, brave, full of pride, always knowing who I was, with every decision I made, including those about the shape and color of my shirts and the branding of my personal care products, always being an authentic expression of who I was meant to be. I mean, if I had to deny my entire life-context to discover what desires were deep inside me beyond my responsibility I hoped they were bigger and grander than wearing flannel and talking about my rubber dick.

Honesty could have only helped me realize that women have it shit and lesbians have it real shit, and we all have to figure out how to deal with it in the end in a way that doesn't keep us up all night. So: what do you have yet to be honest about? How are you dealing with this whole raw deal, anyway? What keeps you up all night, and what have you put to bed, and what's lurking underneath?

My final stumbling block is this: I think telling other women these things is more important than letting us all keep it inside, to our own little private selves, imagining we're surviving so long as we don't reveal exactly how. I think telling other women these things is more important than telling them they can go to some guy with a knife who will take care of it all. Your decision, though.

[davidjjohnston3]

Facebook Insomnia 7.25.2021 1. I am still sad to conceptualize life in terms of fiction and the condition of fiction rather than Christianity undivided.   Today I had a lot of images of Japan in my mind.  I heard the phrase 'Japanese Breakfast' which is the rock-star name of the author of 'Crying at H-Mart' a famous book. I remembered someone who once dated someone who became my enemy. This person I respected I now realize and I am happy that I didn't say anything excessively stupid that would have implied I look down on her, saw her as easy, saw her as 'material to work on,' someone to have a plan for etc.   I asked her once for help getting someone to interview at Deloitte for consulting only this person was in Accounting. I never really saw this person as in my league or anything to me except as a 'Curriculum Developer' I guess I outranked her and so wasn't shy of talking to / with her in official functions.   Later we drank together and I said a few random things like that I stress- / binge-eat apples, like 5 apples a night. My friend once did a funny imitation of her that in retrospect sounded a little like my Taiwanese ex-girlfriend's imitation of Kaori Mochida from Every Little Thing; the funny thing I now realize is that he too had lingering affection for her despite everything.  I feel he became anti-Korean racist and I don't know where he is now but in retrospect he definitely never crossed a line with her that I know of except for asking questions I would never ask.  He called her by her Asian name which was something I never did in those days feeling it pretentious.   'The mysterious maiden of the Moon...' - It's a line from Yi Kwangsu's 'The Soil' in which a married man is comparing his wife with someone else like his former student.  In good Korean custom since his former student once had a puppy-crush on him and gave him some corn, when her husband finds out, he kicks her to death in her pregnant stomach and this is why I oppose many things in principle such as tribalism, marriage, and for all intent and purposes the nuclear family. Yi Kwangsu is a problematic figure and as a Christian or aspiring Christian / 'Christianist' I don't recommend it.  It has incredibly exquisite descriptions of women that could make you brain-dead.  Yi Kwangsu also supposed Japan's occupation of Korea so that to this day talking about Yi Kwangsu can get you crucified.   I also seem to recall something like '_ _-ya, you got run over by a train you one-legged prostitute; now you have to love your husband even more.'  But I don't remember the context. Ironically or not 'The Soil' is the title of a Knut Hamsun novel the author of which supported Hitler; I do not.   I wonder where she is now. This person got shot at a lot and I regret adding to her burdens with my sin-eater-type confessions or just shooting my mouth off when stuff happened.  I had a crush on someone else and started saying I was sad I lost my virginity in college; IDK why I said anything. This person also had high alcohol-tolerance - extremely high for a female Asian - and although I could also drink a lot I always did bad self-destructive things. In the Middle Ages one form of 'trial by ordeal' was to reach your hand in to boiling water to pull out a pearl and if the boiled skin healed well you were exonerated or sth.   She must be 'somebody's everything; my impossible girl.'  IDK why she talked to me and I made fun of her and all my fictionalized versions of her and theories of her were derogations.   Like me she played the piano. She once said '_ _ is popular' which was a burn I appreciate since I'm anti-popularity and anti-personality-cults. She went to a school part of which is Victoria College where a literary critic I admire(d) taught for many years. I am stuck in America, hounded by Satan through the personages of my Maoist biological family and 'family tree' of America torn between past and future, un-death and life; due in large part to my excessive tendency to defend myself, to lash out, to wash my hands on the outside without cleaning my 'interior mentality' to paraphrase the 'Da Xue,' or to blaspheme the Spirit in some respects, I feel. I regret talking about her and at the same time why would I talk about lesser maidens? IDK what her favorite piano-piece was as I never endeavored to enage her in discourse about art or aesthetics given she is not a 'kisaeng' or 'geisha' and I am not a museum-curator or whatever.  Other people would be like 'Oh!  You lke the Grande Valse Brilliante; I know you spent the summer of 2003 teaching yourself repeat-notes.'   Everyone wants to drag everyone in to their mud or graves these days.  Am reminded of Endo Shusaku's 'Silence' about why Jesuits would apostasize in medieval Japan.  His conclusion was that the 'swamp of Japan' was too full of sensualism, the Portuguese Jesuit wanted a Japanese mistress or wife.  I once yelled 'swamp f-ggot' at someone due to their tendency to emotionalize and 'contextualize' everything which was an underhanded way of trying to make me change my sex as well.  In an effort to mitigate some of the tempting evil pornographic things I said about KR over the years I said a few more but this is a person, whose name means 'Pearl' as in 'the pearl of great price for which oe sold everything else.'  It is said that AAPI Twitter, America, house-slave Am-Kor own-goal Korean self-exploitation honor-killing squadsters, etc. want to these people in the trash. I found my Gideon Kor-Eng NT Psalms with the 'victory song' that sounds like Mandarin in its Revelation, that I had worried I'd lost.  That might be the 'most grateful' thing that 'happened.' I also remembered what my Mandarin name used to be though I had many in different classes I took. I was going to say many things, but in the end: the mystery of Charity.

*

I never considered the full implications of socialism or mental socialism till today.  I assumed that it was valid mitigation.  Some are born rich, some are born poor, it's wrong to let the latter starve on principle alone.   I don't even know how to say this.  I remember during the Iraq War being struck by how much the government - like my mom - was asking outsiders for advice about how to fight.  Dick Cheney got in trouble.  Years later I was skeptical of the F-35 because a lot of idiots with no skin in the game wanted to build it here or there. Wisconsin wanted to build the 'Littoral Combat Ship' which who cares. It made people worse and worse. The only thing is, the CCP - who ultimately serve I dare not even say whom, but clearly not the ghosts of Karl Marx or Vladimir Lenin or perhaps even Mao Zedong - figured out awesome killer ways to troll Republicans like Scott Walker w/ their 'FoxConn Fallujah hokey-pokey' whereby they got an avowed capitalist to promise socialists something that actually came from-post-hyper-anti-socialist hyper-capitalists with a plan to kill all white people or something. My father used to talk about the University of Chicago School of Economics all the time and it made me sulkily ask myself why 'Poor Dad' is talking so much about stuff that supposedly makes people billionaires while Jacob's English major dad is Bloomberg's 'chief of staff.'   I say again it's just like Biden saying all the right stuff, 'knee on the neck of the American soul, bone of our bone, winter of peril, hey dumbfuck, articulate, they're killing people.' Writing grant-proposals to the government to fund private research in to brain-injury that is itself applied by the government to veterans sent to get brain-damaged by a government that said good things and did retarded things based on their readings of the good things they said a bit like Karenin in 'Anna Karenina.'   I remember when George W. Bush said 'I'm the decider.'  I once told my dad to get out of my face so he got really sloshed up and vapored, 'I'm in your face!'  I'm not even saying that to defame someone but welcome to reality. Every so often every male seems to try to man up then they defend themselves like, 'No that is not the way in which I meant that I was manning up.'  You could call this 'self-draft-dodging.' It's ancient history but if I had been wiser I would have tried to predict the future for myself rather than visualize it as an abstract spectatorial notion.  At day's end mental socialists can literally not understand why it is wrong to steal.  Stealing is compulsory under socialism - I again come back to 'Pearl' since her ex-suitor and I used to reflect on how Korean collectivism drove people into themselves.  Similarly mental socialists cannot but hoard 'capabilities' so that in the end they'll falsify anything, steal anything; the only limit I guess is living with themselves.

I keep giving myself to fantasy and coping of all kinds like a 'mental Changrae Lee novel, mental David Guterson novel,' or ultimately Vergil (Virgil).  There has to be a new music, a new dream, something, a new city, though it is odd to think about pre-Christian times and a legend of what came before Rome in a Christian moment amid realignment in 'late Roman history.' My favorite YAL book still perhaps is 'The Giver' since it deals with the uses of history, with abortion, and with escape or exile.   I was going to say a while back something about 'Light in August' which relates to escape - as well to complacence - and to interracial relationships, pregnancy, the right to live.  I was in Minneapolis but mind was on Japan, on all these swords, not the Olympics but histories of swords and strange armor, halberds.  There was a huge sword called a 'field sword' in translation. I don't even want to see these people again; I sincerely pray the Japanese Prime Minister, the men and women of their armed forces, Tokyo's apparently amazing counter-terrorism and response capabilities for NBC / WMD / etc. attacks since the Aum Shinrikyo Sarin subway attacks and maybe their counter-nuclear or ability to respond after a nuclear blast will be enough.  People in America are trying to live by a little of the old, a little of the new, but it seems utterly impossible. When people abuse me I get really dreamy.  I read Virgil in high school; I was thinking of 'post-Covid YAL' or so in which people are just on the run, harrowing themselves, not even nostalgic for Babylon or anything in it.  It is almost like 'the meaning of the soul.'  I realized that in addition to new churches and new government laws Covid will engender new birth-defects and there will have to be new medicine.  Japan is a country that I said bad things about especially when in Korea but she never did anything bad to me - I remember playing 'Final Fantasy' and thinking someone out there loves me; they made an investment in children worldwide.  The only thing is I'm too old for such adventures and I fall apart quickly. All these birds in Japan, colors of red - people get obsessed with the Otherness of Japan and want to abnegate Belial-like (a demon or fallen angel of sensualism, to my understanding).  

I took so many notes and voice-notes yesterday that I devoutly hope my visions will pass to someone.  The future is going to be so beautiful for somebody but I have lost so much faith in my ability to mitigate or restrain evil.  Those who I had thought were simply stupid but were diabolically opposed to my existence - whom I did not wish to understand and whom I had 'fancied' I could placate or appease through offerings - turned out to be radically evil, unconditionally evil.  I feel that my father (biological) would steal my soul if he could; would eat it in a way.  My mom is always sitting on the porch and gives a look of hope like I could change her mind but it'll never happen.  I want to kill myself; I think things worldwide will get worse before they get better; I don't trust Biden or anyone who says the right things without showing exactly what they are doing.  Christians seem so petty sometimes like melanin, hairy legs, in Japan this therefore that, Native American Indian manhood rituals.   I just want to know which pastor has the 'batting average' I can believe in but it has to be John MacArthur doesn't it?  

[redditnosleep]

H is for Hegemonic

by Human_Gravy

Through the darkness of the waste system, the stench of stagnant water, and rotting trash, Minister Meisberger, my family’s spiritual leader and savior, led us to God’s Chamber.

Barb had vomited twice to the disdain and disgust of the Minister. My parents reprimanded her for lacking respect or control over her faculties. I’d vomited too but swallowed it to avoid punishment. Each time Barb vomited, Mom slapped her across the face and told her to get herself together. She had taken too much time away from our tight schedule.

God was returning to Earth. Only the most devout servants could enter God’s Chamber and being late would have surely penalized our chances at being allowed inside. Making the Minister late to such an earth-shattering event would earn us the ire of the Congregation. We could have been expulsed. I couldn’t begin to imagine what would have happened differently if Mom and Dad were kicked out of the Congregation. I feared for our safety. More for Barb’s than my own.

Our family was not originally from the city. We were forced to move when Dad’s job transferred him from a Midwestern town to their main headquarters. My parents had not wanted to come to the city. Mom and Dad were devout followers of Christ, their whole lives. Their social circles and spiritual well-being revolved around their church. Being pulled from this and thrust into a whole new environment was a death sentence to them.

Faced with no other choice, they rented a small apartment in the city and barely made an effort to decorate or make the place feel like a home. Dad swore it was temporary. After a year in his current position, he would request a transfer elsewhere. Far away from the city. Closer to like-minded folks.

To them, cities were havens for the godless secular and liberal thinking heathens. Those who supported rampant fornication of the youth by providing birth control and condoms. Those people who tolerated and accepted the abomination of men fornicating with men. Women with women. Those who would accept their diabolical lifestyles of debauchery. Illegal immigrants dealing drugs and seeking to rape and pillage. Prostitution. The makers of pornography. Modern-day Sodom. Gomorrah. You name it, the cities supplied these sins in spades. My parents were closed-minded bigots and I hated them for thinking like this.

Most importantly, they didn’t want Barb and I to fall into the temptation these places provided. They made it their mission to find the most traditional, hard-lined, and conservative place of worship the city could provide. Jumping from church to church, they could not find this place until Minister Meisberger approached them outside the steps of a church they’d attended. The Minister invited them to a special meeting at the community center promising to bring them the closest to God anyone on Earth could ever get them.

They attended several meetings with the Minister and joined Meisberger’s church with a renewed religious enthusiasm. Meisberger’s word became the law in our home and our lives.

Major changes were made in our household. All colored clothing was to be removed from the home. Only black clothes were allowed. Colored clothing was the uniform of the Unwashed. To stand out was sinful. Black was a reflection of the darkness in man’s soul.

Our televisions, computers, and electronic devices were sold off. These were used to spread misinformation, propaganda, and entice deadly sins by providing easy access to online shopping, gambling, and pornography.

Barb and I were pulled from school. These were the breeding grounds to spread the agenda of the Unwashed. Other children living in sin would influence us to sin with them. Our teachers would instruct on blasphemies and profanities spread under the name of science. Our education was now in the hands of our parents who taught us from a curriculum approved and created by Meisberger based upon his religious teachings.

As you can imagine, Barb and I were not thrilled with the major changes in our lives. I refused to give up my television and Xbox. My tablet and computer. Everything I owed providing me with happiness, entertainment, or social interaction was taken. The only form of entertainment we were allowed was a copy of Meisberger’s Bible. Otherwise, my parents were to lecture us on it. My protest over the loss of my stuff was met with a firm slap across the face from my father, a man who had never raised his hand to me before in his life.

It didn’t hurt so much as surprised, shocked, and embarrassed me. It stung not only on the physical level. It hurt my soul. The man who I respected and loved become a man I feared and loathed overnight.

Barb had the much rougher time getting accustomed to our new life-style. She missed her friends and often snuck out of the house to visit with them. She would return with contraband books and an iPod Nano she could hide easily. Mom and Dad would be asleep when she left and when she returned. Her nightly excursions went without issue for a while until she pushed her luck too much and was caught.

Barb came home to find herself face to face with my mother who’d been having a glass of water. Mom woke Dad and the first of many explosive arguments began. It awoke me from my sleep and I crawled out of bed to see what was happening. Barb roared at them, calling them religious zealots, and told them Meisberger was ruining our lives.

At the mention of Meisberger’s name, Dad reeled his hand back and smacked Barb across the mouth harder than he had hit me. Barb fell backwards across the kitchen and hit the tiles with a thud. She held the side of her face. Her eyes were wide, and jaw dropped in shock. I could relate to the feeling. Without another word, Barb charged into her bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

Her blasphemous items were discovered when Mom went through her room during a time she had snuck out of the house. She hadn’t come home for days and my parents were furious with her. The day she returned, Barb was obviously under the influence of alcohol and raged against my parent’s mistreatment once more. This time Mom dealt the punishment. She rained down blows upon her head with opened hands and closed fists alike. Barb curled up into a ball as the hits came. Barb threatened to go to the police. This is where my father truly lost his mind.

To invite a contrarian authority to the Congregation into a man’s home and business was a major sin. The Man was the leader of the home and the only one allowed to interact with the outside world. God created Man to rule the home and lead the family. Man was strong, resilient, and the disciplinarian. Woman was to bare as many children to Man as possible, raise those children, and maintain the household.

Mom reacted to Barb’s threat by really hurting her. Mom kicked at her. Barb instinctively reached out and pushed our mother into the wall. She then made an attempt to escape. Dad caught her before she could reach the stairway. Barb howled and screamed for help. Some neighbors came out of their apartments to see what was happening. They were Hispanic or some other type of non-English speakers. Dad told them she was trying to run away, and it was good enough an excuse for them to let it go. It was a family spat. This was nothing new in a big city. A person screaming, yelling, and carrying on like a crazy person was par the course.

Dad dragged Barb by the hair back into the apartment. He tossed her through her bedroom door and closed it behind him. He called out for me to get his toolbox and I complied not wanting to incur my parent’s wrath. Dad installed a lock on the outside of her door and trapped her inside.

Barb was a prisoner in her bedroom. Mom gave her a bucket to pass her excrement and urine. She was fed twice a day and given a bottle of water to sustain herself. When she began screaming, Dad put his foot down. He grabbed my arm, shuffled me to Barb’s bedroom, and told her if she didn’t calm down, her punishments would now be inflicted upon me.

To prove his point, Dad twisted my arm until I was begging him to release me. Barb’s reply was nothing short of a disaster.

FUCK YOU!, she seethed through her teeth and flung a plate of food at my father’s face. She hit him in the mouth. The plate crashed to the floor shattering and sending food everywhere. I only caught a glimpse of Dad’s face and ran for cover.

He burst into the bedroom door and slammed it behind him shaking the apartment. It didn’t drown out the sound of his slaps and punches hitting flesh. The louder Barb cried out, the harder the beatings got until she went silent. Mom entered the room and escorted Dad out. There was blood on his knuckles and on his face. Barb was laid out across her bed. Her nose was bleeding. Her face was red and welted. Her lips were puffed, cracked, and bloodied. She wept, sobbing silently.

Everything settled after. Barb, fearing her punishments would be dealt upon the both of us, went along with her chores, Mom’s spiritual lectures, and prayers. She shambled expressionless through it, dead inside, and resigned to her fate.

She confined herself in her room preferring the isolation. I did the same. Our house was quiet all the time now. While Dad was at work, Mom focused on her religious studies and teaching us our lessons. It was the most miserable experience in my life and I was too afraid to stand up for Barb and I. Dad’s anger and fury was not something I wanted to experience.

Two weeks after the blow up, my parents told us we would be moving to join the rest of the Congregation. Barb tried to hide her reaction to the announcement. Tears and the defeated look on her face couldn’t hide her feelings. Within the week, Meisberger came to our home and my parents handed him over a check for their life savings.

My parents donated all their money to the Congregation. He shook Dad’s hand and nodded his approval to my mother. There was no male/female touching allowed. He thanked them for their tithe and promised their donations would reserve a place for our family at their Congregation’s living quarters and a seat at the right side of God’s dinner table in the Grand Kingdom of Heaven for the Feast of One Thousand Souls. Bidding them farewell, he told us to await his phone call while preparations were made.

One more week passed before the call came. God had blessed Meisberger with a vision of the Congregation entering God’s Chamber. We were told to dress in our best clothes and meet with him at an address one hour before midnight. My parents were giddy with excitement and expected us to join in their celebration. Barb plastered a fake smile across her face and excused herself to the bathroom. All her “joy” overwhelmed her.

We had a traditional meal of white rice, baked potatoes, and grilled chicken. Bland food to not entice us into gluttony. Before the meal had finished, Dad handed Barb a pill and demanded she swallow it. He said the Minister ordered it.

She couldn’t hide the quivering lips and shaking hands. Thick, watery tears slipped down the sides of her cheeks. She shook her head and begged our father for mercy. He gave her a look. It simultaneously terrified her and subdued her into obedience. Barb swallowed the pill. Mom forced her to open her mouth and show her she’d swallowed it.

An hour later, Barb was out of it. She slurred her words and had issues with knowing what was happening. Mom told her it was normal and not to worry. Barb fell asleep in her chair and Dad said it was time to leave. He hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried her out of the apartment. Her limbs dangled over his shoulder limply. She looked dead except for the uncomfortable twitching of her face. We got on the elevator and went down to the parking garage.

Following the Minister’s direction, we drove out of town to the meeting location in the suburbs. Barb was muttering in the backseat half conscious. Police, cult, and scared were the only words I could make out. Fearing for her safety (and mine) I asked my parents to explain the passages of the Oscuro Perpetua. Dad told me about the Second Coming of Christ and the events of the Book of Revelations. The wicked would be punished with the Second Death and continued onward explaining. I wasn’t paying attention. I was consumed with thoughts of escape attempts. Flagging down strangers for help. An hour before midnight, there weren’t many cars where we were heading. In the city, there had been escape chances earlier at stop lights with people right outside the car doors. I couldn’t bring myself to abandon Barb. She still wasn’t in her right mind.

Upon arriving at our destination, Dad parked the car in the lot of what used to be a supermarket. Across the street stood a dilapidated, crumbling building. All the windows were broken, and glass littered the pavement. It looked like it hadn’t been used in years.

I asked my parents if this is where we were going to be living now. They confirmed my suspicion as we stepped out of the car. Walking Barb with an arm around my shoulder, she was able to stand on her feet with some support. I wanted to protest going into the building. It seemed unsafe and scared me to go inside. I feared it would collapse on us.

Mom said the Minister purchased the abandoned building from the city. It was to be renovated and made into the headquarters and living area for the Congregation. We were to be officially welcomed into the Congregation. Most importantly, to witness God’s return to Earth. We walked into the dark courtyard and the features of the building became clearer. The square windows were broken and boarded up with plywood. The remains of two metallic chimneys leaned against the wall where they hung by a few pegs. Overall the place was the horrid dump unfit for human habitation. And this was to become my new home.

At the front door, my father knocked twice and then another six times. The screeching locks filled the empty silence of the night like a screaming baby. We were the only souls around for miles. No buzzing of the city life. No cars. No people. Nothing. My senses were going into overdrive as each little sound was danger coming for us.

Meisberger greeted us. He wore a priest’s black clergy shirt with a black collar instead of the traditional white along with the black jacket. He apologized for taking long to open the doors. It was old and needed lubrication. I felt relieved when I saw people standing in the room behind Meisberger in all black. The men stood at one side of the room. The women on the other. Among them were children and teenagers. Their faces were lost to me with so many staring back.

“Before we begin our journey to God’s Chamber, I would like to propose a toast,” Meisberger said. If it seemed like a request from the Minister, it was a direct order. A young woman carried a tray of wine to us.

“I thought alcohol was bad?” Barb slurred recovering from the pill.

“Blessed with my hand, this is not alcohol to consume for pleasure. This is communion. The blood of our God,” Meisberger responded agitated with Barb’s questioning. Dad hissed at Barb and raised his hand to hit her. Meisberger placed a hand on Dad’s shoulder and it subdued his anger.

“Tonight is not the night for violence. Young lady, please don’t take advantage of my kindness,” Meisberger said. “Now if you’ll follow me, the uninitiated must travel a different path. I must guide you through to the other side as your spiritual leader and the Emissary of God Upon the Earth,” the Minister said guiding us away from the building. We followed Meisberger across the courtyard and to the side of the building. We reached a line of trees and walked into the woods until we got to our destination, the opening of a large sewer pipe.

This is how we ended up in the sewers and on our way to God’s Chamber.

After Barb vomited twice, we quickened our pace until we reached an intersection of tunnels. Meisberger turned to the left. Thirteen lit candles on each side of the tunnel marked the doorway.

God’s Chamber, Meisberger said aloud and crossed himself. His voice resonated against the walls. “The Twenty-Six Flames represent the tenets of our faith. These are the guiding lights in this savage world of darkness and depravity. So long as the warmth of their light touches you, your soul shall remain pure and worthy of God’s attention and love.”

“Praise God!” my parents cried out in unison. Barb squeezed my hand hard.

“God’s light is touching you,” Meisberger stated. Barb giggled and let out a bellyful of laugher. Hearing it was startling. It felt foreign. She hadn’t laughed or smiled in a long time. It didn’t make sense, especially not then.

“God isn’t real. You are a liar!” Barb shouted

“Trust in me for I am the Prophet, the voice of God on this Earth, savior of the Wise Unwashed. Faith in I is faith in God. Rectification 4:8 – Argento the Pontificator,” The Minister quoted.

Barb released my hand and ran. She disappeared in the darkness of the tunnel. Dad gave chase. The sound of her footsteps splashing in the water sounded further and further away. The second set of splashing followed in a hurry, much faster than Barb’s.

Dad dragged Barb back to us. He forced her to her knees in front of the Minister. Dad held her while Meisberger shook his head in disappointment.

“I’m so sorry, my Prophet,” Mom apologized to the Minister. Dad frowned at my mother. Being the one in charge of the children and their spiritual evolution, Barb’s behavior reflected badly upon her and therefore my father’s house was out of order. The last thing they wanted was for Meisberger to see Barb rebelling against their authority and his. Dad tried to stand her up. Barb remained prone in the watery sewer muck and cried. Mom and Dad shouted at Barb to stand. She defiantly told them to go to Hell and spit at the Minister.

Meisberger raised a finger to them for silence. Mom and Dad immediately quieted.

“Your faith is weak, Barbra. Trust in God. Trust in me. Or the Darkness will claim you for its whore! I will not allow this!” Meisberger said.

His hand wound back and whacked her across the face. The sound reverberated through the tunnel and echoed far away. Barb let out a cry. Dad and Meisberger raised her to her knees.

“That’s right! I’m a fucking whore! I want all the darkness in the world inside me like a huge cock! I’m a harlot! A dirty fucking cunt!” Barb shrieked. I stood there aghast. I’d never heard her speak this way. It sounded like a wholly different person using my sister’s lips and tongue to speak such foul language.

“I’m so ashamed,” Mom said covering her embarrassment with her hands.

“Do not worry, Linda. We shall save your daughter’s soul whether she likes it or not,” Meisberger said. He went to the door and knocked on it. Two times and then another six. The door opened and light filled the tunnel. It hurt my eyes. Meisberger called out, “I need four men.”

Four men came into the sewer and saw Barb in the muck. Without a word, they went to her and picked her up from the ground despite her protests. She kicked, swung her arms, and squirmed. She called out for help and I couldn’t do anything. What could I do against four men, my parents, and the Minister? Their eyes bore into me. Daring me to attempt to help my sister. Like the coward I was, I averted my eyes from what was happening and let it continue.

The four men dragged my sister into God’s Chamber. The Minister and my parents followed. They left me alone in the tunnel. The sole person left whose loyalty and faith was left in question. It was a test. It had to be. They wanted to see if I would run away. They knew I wouldn’t. I loved my sister too much to leave her to suffer their insults and punishments alone.

Entering into God’s Chamber, the smell of disgusting sewer trash was replaced with the smell of burning wood and incense. Warmth enveloped me sending chills all over my body. It felt heavenly. Fire pits burned across the chamber. Worshipers stood at the sides of the fires with their Bibles in hand praying.

“Welcome to God’s Chamber,” Meisberger announced at the front of the room. “And a very special welcome to our latest arrivals, the Dayton family.”

The Congregation responded with murmurs of welcome.

“We are gathered here in the presence of God, the Prophet, and the Wise Unwashed to baptize the Dayton family into our church,” Meisberger said.

“Let me go!” Barb pleaded. The Minister turned to one of the men who had dragged Barb into the chamber and nodded to him. The man backhanded her across the mouth. She yelped and went silent once more. Mom and Dad stood front and center at Meisberger’s podium. Complying with the request, I joined my parents. Mom took my hand into hers and squeezed. I didn’t want to hold her hand. I wanted nothing to do with them.

In front of the podium, there was a large coffin resembling an Egyptian sarcophagus. Or at least what I imagined one would look like. The side of it was ornately carved with two angels holding the world on their shoulders. The top was carved into the shape of a man with his arms crossed. An aura emanated around his features.

“Drew Dayton, Linda Dayton, Barbra Dayton, and Raymond Dayton, step forward and accept the glory, the power, and the enlightenment of God”, Meisberger commanded.

Dad stepped foward and dropped to his knees. Mom followed and pulled me down with her. Barb was dragged next to me and forced down. My heart broke for her. Meisberger stepped down from his podium and went to my father first.

“Drew Dayton, do you give yourself and your family to the Prophet and God until the day of your death and beyond?”

“I, Drew Dayton, give myself and my family to the Prophet and God until the day of my death and beyond,” Dad answered.

One of the worshipers handed The Minister a bottle of wine. He uncorked it and poured the wine over my father’s head.

“Will you accept the Blood bond between Man and God?” Meisberger asked.

“I am one with God,” Dad replied.

The Minister tipped the bottle into my father’s mouth and he drank. Meiseberger moved to my mother next and performed the same ritual then came to me next.

“Raymond Dayton, do you give yourself to the Prophet and God until the day of your death?” Meisberger asked.

With no other choice available to me, I replied, “I, Raymond Dayton, give myself over to the Prophet and God until the day of my death,” following in line with my father and mother. Meisberger poured the wine over my head. It gave me chills despite its warmth. He lifted my head and poured wine into my mouth. It tasted sour and spoiled along with something else with a muted metallic aftertaste. Meisberger then reached out and grabbed my hand. He lifted me to my feet and held my hand in his.

“The blood of the Prophet and God run through your veins now!” Meisberger yelled throwing both our hands into the air. The Congregation clapped and cheered furiously. Mom and Dad looked pleased with themselves. I hated everyone around me.

Barb looked like she was going to be sick to her stomach again. Meisberger noticed her and his expression changed. His eyes went cold against the warmth he’d shown only a moment before. He raised his fist into the air and the chamber went silent. All eyes returned to him once more.

“Barbra,” the Minister called filling the chamber with the boom of his voice. “It is time to choose. Would you like to join our family? Do you want to walk in God’s warming light? For the sake of your eternal soul, I do hope you reconsider your position,” Meisberger asked.

It was at that moment, Barb looked away from the Minister and turned to me. She didn’t ask aloud. She didn’t need to. Her eyes said it all. They begged for an answer. All eyes turned to me then and I realized I had no other choice. I went to my sister, placed a hand upon her shoulder, and told her to join our family. She burst into tears and mumbled something among the sobs which I couldn’t understand.

Meisberger came forward and placed his finger under her chin lifting her eyes to meet his gaze.

“Barbra Dayton, before entering this holy chamber, you confessed your desire to fornicate with the darkness and the Unwashed. By your own admission, you wished to be a whore to the Unwashed and those who walk in the darkness. Do you deny those claims now? Do you choose to walk in the warmth of God’s light?”

“Yes…,” Barb whimpered.

“Barbra Dayton, do you give yourself over to the Prophet and God until the day of your death and beyond?”

“Yes…,” she whimpered again. He poured the remaining wine from the bottle over her head and then placed the lip of the bottle against hers. Barb took the wine into her mouth and spit it out. It sprayed across the Minister’s face and clothing.

The Congregation gasped collectively.

“You sick fuck! This is blood!” Barbra shouted at Meisberger. A chill went through me. Meisberger did not react to being spit on. He continued like nothing happened.

“Dayton family, God has blessed you with his blood as he has blessed the rest of our Congregation. God gives his blessings and demands faith, prayer, and sacrifice in return. Kneel before God and reciprocate his merciful gesture,” Meisberger said.

Mom and Dad went to the sarcophagus. I followed their lead and kneeled next to them. Barb stayed in place. Meisberger nodded once more to the group of men who came forward to force her to join us.

“Get the fuck off me!” Barb shouted while pushed forward. The Minister stood patiently in front of the sarcophagus. Once Barb was in her rightful place, two men held her. Meisberger gave them a head nod thanking them. In his hand, the Minister held an elaborate jewel encrusted dagger stained with blood. My heart pounded in my chest.

“Drew Dayton, God demands tribute. Serve him as you have sworn,” Meisberger said. He dragged the dagger across his own hand and grimaced. He placed his hand over the mouth of the figure carved on the sarcophagus and dripped blood into it.

Following the Minister’s actions, Dad swiped the dagger across his palm and fed the sarcophagus. Mom followed next. She let out a cry as she cut her hand open and gave her blood to God. When Mom passed the dagger to me, I felt as if I would lose my nerve. I didn’t know if I could play along with the façade of those religious zealots. My hands trembled at the sight of the blood on the dagger. The handle was slippery with it.

“Raymond, pay God his respect,” Meisberger urged. His serious, lizard-like face watched my hand intently. With a weapon, I realized I had an opportunity to end this charade and show the Congregation this was no Prophet or Emissary of God. I’d be killed afterward or worse. I wondered if it would be worth it or not and came to the conclusion it would not. Meisberger may survive the stabbing and it would all be for nothing. Barb would suffer still. It would all be meaningless.

I swallowed hard, clenched my jaw, and sliced my palm. I approached the burial tomb and placed my hand over the mouth like Mom and Dad had done. Blood spilled inside. Meisberger came and pressed my hand to cover the mouth portion.

Something inside the sarcophagus touched me. I cried out trying to pull my hand away. Meisberger held it in place. Whatever laid inside, lapped up the blood from the wound with a slippery cold tongue. It swept over the length of my palm sucking at the blood with a grotesque slurp. These were the longest seconds of my life. Meisberger released my hand and pointed for me to return to my family.

“God works in mysterious ways. Ways the Unwashed shall never understand. We, the Faithful, worship a powerful God. A true God. A God of action and love who does not allow for suffering of his flock. Place your faith in God for all things are possible through him and him alone,” Meisberger said.

He lifted his hand to the Congregation and showed his palm. The wound had vanished. I looked at my own and saw the unbelievable. My wound was gone too. The Congregation gasped once more this time in delight. I looked to Barb to see her astonishment matched my own.

“Barbra Dayton,” Meisberger called out. “God has chosen you for Salvation. You reject his selection. Reject your father’s authority. Your mother’s guidance. Commit blasphemy in the presence of God and the Prophet, and resist our efforts to bring you to the light and warmth of God’s eternal glory.”

The astonishment on Barb’s face vanished. In its place fear took hold. She trembled and tried to stand. The men continued to hold her down. She squirmed and received another backhand to the chin for her troubles. It dazed her. I could tell she was seeing stars.

“Perhaps this is why God favors you among us the most. You need God’s love most of all. God has commanded me to bring you closer to his being,” Meisberger announced. He waved a hand to the sarcophagus and the men dragged Barbra forward. She screamed and kicked with the last of her remaining might and spirit. My sister fought and fought. Something I was too cowardly to do myself. I wished I could have fought them too.

“Honey, don’t resist. God chose you!” Mom encouraged. Dad held Mom in his arms. Tears of happiness streamed down both their faces.

A set of older women approached the men who held Barb. They yanked and pulled at her clothes. I closed my eyes and covered my ears. It didn’t help drown out the screams and the tearing fabric of her clothing. The crowd surrounding her finished their task easily. She stood before the Congregation naked and pale. I couldn’t stand to look at her.

Four of the men had peeled off from the group. They went to the sarcophagus and together moved the heavy stone lid to the side. The smell of ancient rot wafted out of the opened tomb. It was like a dead animal left out in the heat. It overpowered the smell of the burning wood and incense. My eyes watered. I gagged.

Those holding Barb guided her to the sarcophagus. Barb fought them. Where she found the energy, I’ll never know. Amidst her screams, cries, and sobs, she pleaded for me to help her. When she finally reached the sarcophagus and looked inside, the panic in Barb’s eyes burned into my memories. Something broke inside her. The panicked frenzy of her struggle ceased. A far-gone look filled her eyes. Whatever she had seen had forced her to surrender to her fate.

Meisberger dismissed the men from Barb with a wave of his hand. They released my sister. She stood stupefied at the mouth of the sarcophagus staring down into it.

“And we commit Barbra Dayton’s body and soul to God for peace everlasting,” Meisberger said. He scooped my sister into his arms like a groom carrying his bride across the threshold. A set of withered old hands reached out from inside the sarcophagus to meet the descending Barb. The Minister set her down into those ancient arms and followed them until they were inside the sarcophagus together. With another wave of his hand, the four men returned to slide the lid back into its rightful place. God’s Chamber fell into silence once more. The Congregation bowed their heads in prayer.

I expected Barb to scream. To cry out. To give one last shout or sign of distress. There was nothing but the sound of my heart pounding in my ears.

It was the last time I ever saw my sister.

Five weeks passed after our inauguration into the Congregation. Every morning started prayer. After breakfast, Meisberger presented us with a lecture on his Bible and then everyone went to the front of the room and slit their palm with a blade. The blood was collected into wine bottles as their sacrifice to God. These wounds did not heal. These were painful and prone to infections. This was common among the Congregation. The wounds would only heal when we went into God’s Chamber to directly deposit our blood into God’s mouth.

Dad quit his job in the city, broke the lease on our old apartment, and moved the few precious belongings Meisberger allowed us to have into the old distillery. Mom was pregnant. I had a new brother or sister on the way. We wouldn’t know anything until the baby was born. Even for emergencies, women were not allowed to see doctors. I hoped the baby would be born healthy, but I didn’t care if Mom lived or died afterward. Same with Dad. I hadn’t spoken to them since the night they abandoned their daughter to be sacrificed to whatever was inside the sarcophagus.

Living among the Congregation, worship in God’s Chamber was rare. In five weeks, we had only gone there three times to directly give blood. The Congregation was able to access the chamber through a door in the basement. This also provided access to the door leading to the sewer tunnels and the outside world. It was only a matter of gathering the courage and waiting for my chance to escape.

Five weeks after losing Barb, I gathered the courage to leave and made my move when I was sure it was the right time. Waiting until it was early in the morning, I got out of bed and crept through the men’s living quarters in the dark. I couldn’t risk lighting my candle yet. Once outside the room, at a snail’s pace to ensure no one could hear my footsteps, I went through the distillery until I reached the basement door. Once in the basement, I lit the candle. A knot twisted in my stomach with the memories of Meisberger’s words coming back to me.

”So long as the warmth of their light touches you, your soul shall remain pure and worthy of God’s attention and love.”

It was only a matter of getting into God’s Chamber again and sewer tunnel door. With no one around and the expectation of being alone, I rushed through the basement and opened the door to the chamber.

With the firepits extinguished and no incense burning, the smell in God’s Chamber was more potent than ever. The sarcophagus sat in the shadow of Meisberger’s podium. In the days leading up to my escape, I resolved to not bother with it. Escaping the Congregation was the goal. All else was unnecessary. Yet, I still found myself standing in front of it. There was no one to stop me from doing what I had dismissed as unnecessary and only dreamed of for the sake of revenge. I didn’t think the opportunity would present itself. I thought I’d be sprinting at full speed out of the chamber and into the sewers with chasing close behind.

The mouth of the figure on the sarcophagus was wide enough to fit the candle. The choice now was to either navigate the tunnels with no light source and get my revenge or focus on my best chance at escaping. My mind was racing, weighing the pros and cons, time was slipping by with more and more chances of getting discovered out of bed. What kept popping into my head was thinking about how much of a coward I had been during the time Barb needed me the most.

Leaving without destroying it was nothing short of cowardice once again on my part. I vowed since my sister’s death not to be cowed or intimidated. I wouldn’t let this opportunity go to waste.

Searching the extinguished fire pits, I saw exactly what I needed among the charred remains. A long, thin strip of wood sat at the side of one of the pits which hadn’t been used. It would serve me well for a torch.

Using the candle on the piece of wood, it took a few seconds of direct application for it to catch. From there it was only a matter of doing what needed to be done. I went to the sarcophagus and placed the burning candle over the mouth where unimaginable amounts of blood had fed whatever lived inside. As I was about to release it, a voice called out from inside. It was Barb’s.

Please, Ray, don’t do this! I’m still alive!

I couldn’t believe my ears at the sound of Barb’s voice. Hope filled my heart for only an instant before I realized I truly couldn’t believe my ears. Whatever rested inside the sarcophagus did yield power. It demonstrated it to me when it took Barb. Whether or not it was a God, the God, or something else entirely, I didn’t care. It took my sister from me. It had tried to use my memory of her to ward off its impending doom.

“Goodbye, Barb,” I said and dropped the candle into the mouth hole.

The sarcophagus burst into flames. The creature inside howled in agony. I can still hear it in my mind and its suffering brings me delight. I couldn’t stick around to enjoy it. I ran to the tunnel door and into the sewers. Navigating them was confusing. Each twist and turn led to another dead end. The torch was nearly at its end. Its heat was uncomfortable and burning my fingers. It ran out just as I found my way to the exit.

I ran out into the morning light. Not knowing where I was or where to go, I ran further into the woods with the hopes of the trees covering my escape. I hadn’t heard anyone coming in the tunnels and I hadn’t seen anyone outside either. I was alone.

The woods weren’t as dense or large as I had imagined. Running through them for a few minutes, I came out to a busy road. Cars were passing by. Shops were open. People were leaving their apartments. They wore colors other than black. It felt surreal. I thought I was dreaming.

With a renewed vigor, I sprinted down the street to a Dunkin Donuts. The strong aroma of freshly brewed coffee sent my eyes rolling into the back of my head. I charged past the people waiting in line at the register and asked them if I could use their phone to call the police.

The police came to the Dunkin’ Donuts and took me down to the station. I told them everything about Minister Meisberger, my parents, and the Congregation’s living area a few blocks away.

Hours later, police cars swarmed the distillery and discovered the Congregation fled. The officers at the scene said the building smelled like smoke and charred flesh. No one was inside. It appeared as if everyone had dropped what they had been doing and ran.

A BOLO was put out on a group of people dressed in all black traveling with small children. It became unnecessary once the police discovered the sewer system beneath the distillery connected and branched off to a bunch of different places. It would take time to send officers to check each location. It was already too late. The Congregation had escaped capture.

The remnants of the burned sarcophagus puzzled everyone. When asked to explain it, I told them the Congregation believed God had been inside of it. I was forced to worship it and give it blood. With the search for Meisberger and the Congregation underway, I went into witness protection. It was fine with me. I had no where to go. No parents. No sister. Nothing of a life to put back together. The Congregation had taken everything from me except the chance to start over.

It’s been almost eight years since those events and I’ve relocated to California. Thousands of miles away from anyone I’ve ever known. I started a new life here. I finished high school, graduated from college, and I’m working on a master’s in psychology. I currently volunteer to help children and adults who’ve survived ritualistic abuse, mind control, and endured torture at the hands of the people they trusted the most. This type of trauma stays with you the rest of your life. It helps to connect with others who understand and can lend an ear.

The police still haven’t found the Congregation. Every place they checked was empty. No one had ever seen them again. Good riddance.

My dream would be to see Meisberger and everyone in the Congregation caught, tried in court, and sent to prison. The knowledge of their activities being exposed to the world would suffice for me. To know they couldn’t hurt anyone else would bring peace to my soul and a sense of closure would help me move on from the terrifying ordeal.

[gcollectingwords]

Covid-19 & Millennials

The effects that the Covid-19 pandemic is having on Millennials and Generation Z youth, respectively those born between 1984 and 1995 and those born between 1996 and the early 2000s, are mainly related to their mental health. In fact, the pandemic was considered a true collective trauma.

The real possibility of contracting the virus, the uncertainty of the future, job and economic insecurity, lockdown and constant exposure on social media to a multitude of information, which often turns out to be false, have done nothing but instill in young people (but not only) forms of anxiety and worry.

For Millennials and Generation Z, the comparison with previous generations, who considered them irresponsible, lazy, slackers and, in some ways, even responsible for the second wave of contagions, was inevitable. So, in addition to anxiety about the future, there is also the often unfounded criticism of parents, relatives and grandparents.

In addition, for young people the limitations to social relations can result in real psychological damage. What they are experiencing is in fact the age of group outings, of fun, of evenings with friends and of first loves. The pandemic, however, has forced them to stop their sociability and take refuge in technology. If, on the one hand, technology, with its messages and video calls, can be an excellent alternative for continuing to cultivate relationships, on the other hand, abusing the internet and social networks can increase anxiety and lead to depression.

In all this, distance learning for schools and universities is difficult, with questions and exams online, poor connections, hours spent in front of the computer, internships and apprenticeships often suspended or in smartworking mode. Doubts are growing: will I be able to complete the internship? Will I be able to graduate on time? Will I be able to pass the year? These are certainly the questions that are proving to be a source of anxiety for students today.

Teenagers are becoming increasingly lonely and, according to some research, 20-year-olds are even more isolated than retirees. The smartphone can become the only foothold for a social life, swallowing up any chance to meet and hang out with other people. People prefer sexting instead of having sex, ordering food on Just Eat instead of going out to eat, watching Netflix instead of going to the movies. And so gradually people stop meeting new people, because the situations in which it is possible to do so are increasingly reduced. For some, the cell phone and the potential it offers to be connected with a world that would otherwise be unreachable becomes the only reason to live. According to a survey conducted by Telefono Azzurro, 17% of adolescents are unable to disconnect from smartphones and social networks and 1 in 5 wakes up during the night to check them.

The smartphone is not the cause of all evil, but only a tool, as Cesare Guerreschi, psychologist and psychotherapist, founder and president of S.I.I.Pa.C., the Italian Society for Intervention on Compulsive Pathologies, reminds us. The center, which has five locations throughout Italy, deals with the treatment of behavioral addictions and, although it was founded to combat gambling addiction, today in the Bolzano location alone it treats 156 adolescents for nomophobia, the fear of being disconnected and away from the phone.

"With the advent of the new millennium and consequently mass technology, new ways of expressing discomfort have developed," Guerreschi explains. "All addictions, including new addictions, have at their base a unique pattern of behaviors, such as craving, which consists of a very strong and impelling desire for the object of addiction. For drug addicts it can be the spasmodic search for the substance. For the cyber addict it can be the constant need to access the smartphone." For the nomophobic, being away from the cell phone causes anxiety, malaise and uncontrolled anger.

The so-called new addictions, therefore, would be nothing different from those we are used to knowing. In the eighties, drug use was the generational response to a convulsive and incomprehensible time, despite the promises of widespread well-being of Reagan hedonism. The creation of a hallucinogenic para-reality was the most obvious way to escape from the surrounding reality - this also thanks to the contribution of a rebellious imaginary fed by the counterculture, especially music - and the return of heroin and cocaine on the market and the arrival of new synthetic drugs such as crack destroyed an entire generation. Today, smartphone addiction expresses a similar discomfort, although in a less dramatic and obvious way: as during the crack epidemic, the economy is recovering and unemployment rates are stable, but young people continue to create a parallel reality for themselves, in this case a virtual one, refusing to come to terms with the world.

And as in the 1980s, this other reality comes at a high price, even if it is no longer overdoses that kill young people: since 2011, suicide rates among teens have risen alarmingly. At the same time, other risk factors have decreased, such as drug and alcohol abuse and even traffic accidents, but this is not because teens have suddenly become prudent or diligent, but more simply because they don't leave the house to be on their cell phones. Millennials, in short, are safer than teenagers of any other era have ever been. As Jean Twenge, who for years has been conducting studies and research on those born after 1995 (whom she has dubbed iGen, i.e., the generation that can't remember the world without the Internet), acknowledges, parents have also played their part in this, translating an asphyxiating sense of overprotection into the possibility of letting kids do basically whatever they want, as long as they're supervised. Do you want to go to the disco? Okay, I'll take you there and stand in the corner with the other moms. Thus, the myth of adolescent rebellion has also fallen, because the space for insubordination is reduced and the desire for independence languishes in children. And the lack of independence leads to unhappiness.

In spite of the apprehension, according to Dr. Guerreschi, parents are still distant and are not able to talk to their children: "The virtual relationship has replaced the human relationship, even in the most natural relationship that is the one with parents. By now, parents and children communicate through cell phones and via chat, without talking to each other." According to the survey of Telefono Azzurro, four out of five respondents use social networks to communicate daily with their children: the paradoxical thing is that children are constantly told to put the phone away, when it is precisely the adults who abuse it, often using it as the only means of communication with them. Almost all of the young patients at S.I.I.Pa.C. were brought to the center by their parents, and almost all of them are in family therapy.

Twenge also argues that teen segregation occurs not only within families, but more importantly among friends. The progenitor of social, Facebook, is based on friendships that, while virtual, are still friendships. But millennials don't just use Facebook, they also use Instagram, where the number of friends is replaced by the number of followers, a much larger and more indistinct mass. So the desire to be part of a group, of a community, has been replaced by the desire to make a number, that is, not to be left out. This is a very common desire in young people of all ages, but it has become one-way and unrealizable: it is no longer a matter of not being left out of the coolest group at school, but of a social network that has a billion active users.

This phenomenon apparently particularly affects girls, whose depressive symptoms increased by 50% from 2012 to 2015 and who, according to Twenge, committed the highest number of suicides. Females experience more cyberbullying (males still prefer physical assaults) and feel more pressure from beauty standards. When they post a new photo, the research says, they obsessively check the number of likes they've achieved, not so much to have a gratifying confirmation of their appearance, but to not look bad to other users. This causes a strong sense of anxiety, linked to the fact that "you can't" not post anything, because at that point it would mean being totally excluded from social life.

Finally, affecting the mental health of young smartphone addicts is the issue of sleep, which may seem collateral or irrelevant, but is instead a key factor in the onset of depression. 43% of teens sleep less than seven hours per night, a percentage that rises to 51% in the case of 18-year-olds. Looking at a cell phone before bed stimulates the brain and the blue light from the screen inhibits melatonin production, making it harder to fall asleep. Eighty percent of teens admit to using their cell phones during the night, and waking up specifically to check them, a phenomenon called vamping.

Sleepless, depressed and anxious, these millennials are the portrait of a generation that is not at fault. If Deleuze a few decades ago identified schizophrenia as the capitalist disease par excellence, depression is the disease of our time. There is no doubt that mental disorders are not a personal matter, but a collective one. Not only is depression rampant, but it has actually become tolerable: the system, instead of acknowledging its own dysfunctionality, places all the blame on the individual, without considering mental health an issue and a political responsibility.

Adolescents are among the first victims of this system: not only do they work continuously with their cell phones, in the literal sense of the word, consuming advertising, entering data that are processed by digital companies or being at the service of the sharing economy, but they pay a very high price in terms of mental health.

This does not mean that cell phones are to be demonized, on the contrary: as drug addiction teaches us, prohibition serves little or nothing. The solution could instead be to disconnect from the system, and recover human relationships, not only virtual ones. But this won't be possible until we stop holding people accountable for mental illness. And so, kids will only ever be asked "But will you put that cell phone away?", without ever once asking "How are you?".