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yesimwriting · 4 years ago

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Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?

it a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol

also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!!

also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see

They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.

But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.

The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.

You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.

I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.

"Oh, you're doing that thing."

I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"

"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."

I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."

"Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."

Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"

At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"

"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."

Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"

"That doesn't mea--"

"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"

"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.

Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.

I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.

It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.

The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.

"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."

"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"

"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."

Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."

"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"

Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."

"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"

"He just wanted to sell our cove--"

"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."

Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.

"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"

"I resent that--"

"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."

I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."

"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."

"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."

"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."

He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."

...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."

Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."

"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"

He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."

Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.

Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.

I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.

How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.

I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?

Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.

Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.

How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?

I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.

I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door.

I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz.

The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.”

My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing. When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact.

Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.”

The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.”

His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.”

I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.”

A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?”

I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...”

Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me.

My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone.

“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz.

This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.”

Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?”

My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis.

I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.”

Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.”

No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.”

How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely.

“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.”

“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.”

“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.”

“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.”

His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.”

...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.”

Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt.

I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read.

“You’re falling asleep.”

I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple.

“You’re impossible.”

From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?”

From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.”

Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.”

The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.”

This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.”

At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. ��I know when to lie in the grass in wait.”

Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”

“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.”

Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.”

“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?”

I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?”

“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards.

We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?”

He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.”

At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.”

“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final.

I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

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low-budget-korra · 4 years ago

Text

Lets talk about Korra (again)

i already made this analysis, and it was well received but i dont know, i wanna do it again. Why not right? My english is better now than was when i made that analysis so i think this one will be better written

What a way to introduce a protagonist. This line and this scene tell us everything we need to know about Korra at that time and everything she knew about herself.

In book one Korra is a 17′s old teenager who have no idea how the world, how life is outside the training center she grew up in and had been locked up since ever. So she is not only naive but have lack of social skills

Oh, and not everyone who lack’s social skills will act like Zuko and Azula okay? Korra can be confident, expressive and outgoing and still have problems when it comes to social skills.One thing dont exclude the other.

“I’m the Avatar and you gotta deal with it” did you guys notice that only for that line we can see the entire opposite on how she treat her role as avatar in comparisson with Aang? And im not here to judge because is two very different contexts.

As far as we know, Korra grew up without friends or romantic partners. Of course, she had her training partners but i believe that they are just that.

So her entarely perception of herself was around her duty as Avatar, she didnt have personal life, she barely was Korra...She was The avatar and thats that.

So she came to Republic City, it was a mess.

Its funny to see that she have no touch when it comes to simply talk to people, i guess when you grew up away from society, this happens. And yes, she is cocky and had to learn that people arent there to somewhat please her, and she learned that quicky.

Thats why the Pro Bending was important for her character, not only for training but also as means of socilization.

Now lets talk about the villains: Amon and Tarrlok

The two of them represents two differents threats to Korra. Amon represents a threat to her duty as Avatar while Tarrlok represents a threat to Korra as a person.

In episode 4 we have what i still thinks is the darker episode from TLOK. In this episode Amon ambushes Korra in the final moments... Even knowing that they did their best to make Amon’s power and control be non-sexualized as possible still...He have her down on her knews, totally helpless and he even invades Korra’s personal space by touching in her face forcing her to look at him. He didn't have to sexually touch her to violate her.

And right after, the fear in Tenzin voice when asking what happened after seeing her laying in the ground like that, and how Korra is sobing in his arms teeling him how powerless and helpless she felt. I mean...Oh, and she keeps terryfied by him until he takes her bending.

Tarrlok in the other hand doesnt do much different from his brother and started to harass Korra because he cant take ‘no’ as a answer when Korra didnt wanted to join his task force.

Whats interesting is that if it wasnt for Tarrlok harassement and maniputation, Korra wouldnt have joined his task force and wouldnt have confronted Amon and wouldn't have gone through that terrible encounter.

The thing is that Korra is caught right in the middle of a politcal power dispute over the city, something that she for sure wasnt prepare for it. And both Amon and Tarrlok woud hurt or kill her without think twice about it if that means gain power. And that was exacly what happened

Tarrlok tried to manipulate her and keep her on leash where he could, and when his tatics didnt worked anymore he alreay had a plan B. Yes that whole metal box in that cabin in the middle of nowhere was made especifically for her and maybe Tenzin if he also get in his way.

In the end Korra lost the physical battle against both but won the ethical battle also against both. She was the responsable for expose both of them as corrupted and hypocrites. But at what price? Amon was able to remove the bends of the Avatar. And without them, how could she be the Avatar?

Remember that her entirely conception of herself was built around her duty as Avatar, be the avatar. After all, everything she was, everything she'd trained so hard for, had been destroyed in minutes. Thats why i still strongly believe that she was thinking about killing herself at the end, nobodys goes all sad and crying to in front of a clifft without thinking about jumping from it.

But she, i think given up the idea and just sit and started to crying when Aang appeared and help her, giving her bendings back in one of the best scenes of the show. So after have everything solve and still managed to get the boy she was in love with, things where great and she “move on”

In that first half, Korra is unbearable. Everything she learned in Book 1 how to be more mature, less spoiled and all, was thrown in the trash and she was the same "child" of the book one only worse.

Until I stopped and realized that I was also unbearable and childish like this when I had my bad phases of anxiety and depression, as defense mechanism and keep people away. Returning to Korra, and if this way of acting of her was nothing more than this defense mechanism?

Because guess what, i dont think she “move on” from all that happened in Book One that fast, and for add more drama she discovered that was her father idea of keeping her locked up training in that training center we saw in book one and not traveling like avatars before her. No wonder she felt betrayed. And for adding even more drama, people still keep treating her like child, so she was despered for some validation. Something that she found in her uncles arms but she was betrayed by him after.

In the end, Korra again goes through a traumatic experience when she has her connection with past lives destroyed. We see how it affected her when she apologizes to Tenzin, through tears. And Tenzin, as the excellent master he is, tries to motivate her to face Vaatu again (now merged with Unalaq, her uncle) and again she saves the day even after go throught a traumatic event

In the final moments, we see the innocent decision to reconnect the world of spirits and the world of men. And we also see Korra and Mako permanently end their turbulent relationship.

Book 3 begins in a more mature, we see all the characters being presented in a more mature way and it seems that Korra now has overcome everything that has passed. We have the relationship between Korra and Asami deepening as well

In Book 3, called "Change" we have a great sacrifice from Korra. Her life goes down a notch when she decides to save the new airbenders from Zaheer and the Red Lotus, the only villain until now that really threat her life since their sole goal was to kill the avatar.

Korra won again but this time victory costed way too much. Yes she save the day again but now she was physically and psychologically defeated. It was too much, she broke.

Book 4 begins and we only saw Korra in the final minutes and she is unrecognizable. We see that, once proud and courageous avatar, in someone depressed and cowerd. We never have saw Korra like that, even when she was afraid of Amon she wasnt like that.

Korra is afraid of being the Avatar again and her fight against PTSD is still one of the most sensitive, responsable and honest representation of Mentall Issues that i saw, and it was before this subject gain more space on media. It was before people started to give attention to this

I also think that she was having flashs from her other fights and not only the one against Zaheer.

Another thing I think is worth mention is that Korra took 3 years to feel safer and re-embrace her duties as Avatar. It was not 3 weeks or 3 months, it was 3 years. And anyone who suffers from some mental illness knows very well the stigma that is, the fight that is, because everyone wants you to be well faster as possible when the truth is that many times you spend years fighting against this. And this is a pressure that falls on you.Imagine, seeing all your friends moving forward while you continue "stock in the same place"?

Only after Korra confronts Zaheer, I think that was a way to show her coping with the trauma, she improves to the point of returning to be the great Avatar we know. I personally still struggles with this scene because put the victim in front of her agressor may not be the best idea but i understand that she needed to see that he was just a man and not the invencible monster her mind was telling her

One of the lines that stuck with me the most was in the TLOK version of the ember island players, the one that made a recap of the show before the finale. When Korra said “I was so naive” just before we watch her narration of her journey, we can feel pain, sadness and strenght. Janet was amazing in the way the delivered this line.

And this fucking quote i saw here on tumblr still is the goat: “The Last Airbender is a story of a boy who becomes a god. The Legend of Korra is the story of a goddess who becomes a girl "

And I still get really pissed when someone comes to talk shit about Korra because she is such an incredible heroine and her journey is also so incredible.

The story of how life can be hard and unfair, how it can hurt and paralyze, but there is always a reason to move on. We should always move on.

Korra is definitely not weak, quite the opposite, she is one of the if not the strongest heroine I have ever seen. Korra inspires overcoming

#korrasami #avatar korra #asami sato #mako #tenzin #bolin #lin beifong #su beifong #kuvira #zaheer #amon #unalaq #tarrlok #the legendd of korra #legend of korra #tlok #lets talk about #avatar

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pikapikabishes · 4 years ago

Text

It's Okay Now(Kirishima x gn!Reader)

Disclaimer: all characters rightfully belong to their original creators, only thing that is mine is the plot. Also do not copy my writing. Thank you

Summary: Class 3A's Y/n was having a jolly day hanging out with the BakuSquad, including her amazing bf of over 6 months, Eijirou Kirishima, even with all the stress piling up, like a shaken soda bottle ready to burst, until said explosion finally happened. Triggered by the littlest, probably stupidest event

Warnings: anxiety (?), panic attacks, not eating for days, mentions death, suggestive themes, a bit of swearing

Mentions: mental breakdown, overworking oneself, starvation, hyperventilating, ugly crying, kiri being absolutely biggest sweetheart, daddy!Kiri breifly

A/n: this is my first fic on Tumblr so please be nice, and if you enjoyed it, like and comment

Everything hurt. My head, my eyes, my chest, my mind. I don't even know what happened. One minute I'm perfectly fine, having a good time with my friends, the next I'm in this situation.

Im sitting in the middle of my dorm on the floor, crying and sobbing over the smallest thing. I admit being stressed with everything going on in my life; with upcoming school exams , training every single day to improve my ultimate moves, and the biggest clicher... my dad's passing a couple months prior.

This whole time I've just been bottling it all up, trying my hardest to put up a brave front as to not worry my mom, who already has a lot on her plate, my friends and boyfriend, Kirishima. To be frank, I haven't even told my class or Kiri, keeping a bright smile as to not hint them in on my life crashing down around me. Some days are easy to keep up my smile, to let my mind focus on something else, and then there are harder days when everything reminds me of my dad.

I was real close to him, we did a lot of fun stuff together; going to amusement parks, going out to see movies we both were really excited to watch, going out to eat at our favorite restaurants.

It still doesnt feel real after all this time. It felt just like yesterday he was perfectly fine, we were celebrating my grandma's birthday, and literally the next day, I find him stiff and eerily still in his bed. And then everything crashing down on me as the paramedics regretfully tell me that my dad was no longer of this world, when I sob into the phone to my mom that my dad was gone, when I listened to my grandma's wails as my mom told her of her son's passing.

It all felt so surreal, like if I go over to see my grandma at her house, I'll see my dad sitting there in the living room, greeting me with his smile and warm hugs and kisses.

I sob harder as I remember all the times we watched Disney movies and me crying at some scenes as my dad happily comforts me. Buying me a toy from one of the movies I adored at the time. Him gifting me a puppy when he moved into a new neighborhood and I didnt have anyone to play with.

My head's pounding, a deep pressure in my brain, as I clutch tightly to the same doll he bought me all those years ago. My screams silent as I try to keep my classmates from finding me in such a pathetic state and worrying about me, my brain not processing that everyone was still at school. I fought to take control of my emotions again, wanting to be strong for my mom, grandma, and my friends. Unknowning of the pace of my breathing as I desperately tried to grasp my emotions.

My stress and anxiety climbing higher with each panicked breath. All those late nights I stayed up studying as much as I can for the midterm exams, catching up to me. I even forsaken eating as to study so I can at least get a passing grade. And the times I didnt spend studying was spent training to try and get my mind to focus on anything rather than fully face the reality that I no longer live in a world with my dad in it.

When was the last time I had a fulfilling meal? Three days?? And the time before that?? I dont even remember, the pounding in my head preventing me from thinking too much. All I can think about is what caused this stupid meltdown in the first place, my frustrations climbing higher with my stress and anxiety.

~~~

Today was one of those days where it was hard to keep up my smile for people. In an attempt to cheer myself up, I made myself the same lunch my dad and I used to make together for later, excited to eat as this was my first actual meal in days.

As I stroll down the hallways to meet up with Kiri and the rest of the BakuSquad, someone in a rush, bumps into me full force, causing me to fall and drop my lunch on the floor. I only had a moment to grieve as I see my precious lunch splattered all over the floor before the person that bumped into me uttered a measly, rushed "sorry" before hurrying on their way, stepping my lunch in the process.

I stayed there in my position on the floor, looking at my lunch with grief. I know it was stupid to start crying over something that can be replaced with something else that Lunch Rush made, but there the crocodile tears were. My heart and mind had wanted that lunch.

Without thinking I got up and ran out of school and towards the dormitories, deaf to the calls of my fellow 3A classmates and the incoming call on my phone.

~~~

I was brought back to the present by the sound of pounding coming from my dorm door. I was still fighting for control, not able to send a reply without my sobs mixing in with my voice.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" A familiar voice sounded through the door. Of course it would be Kiri to be checking up on me. "I tried calling you to see where you were, but you didn't answer. Tsuyu told me she saw you running off upset when I went to go looking for you."

For some reason I sobbed harder, barely able to keep quiet.

"Princess/Prince, please tell me what's wrong, I'm getting really worried."

He stayed quiet for a moment, anxiously waiting for my response. And of course my body betrays me when an ugly sob wracks through my very being, unable to quiet it down.

"Princess/Prince, are you crying?!" Kiri's voice carried his panic and worry. "I'm coming in!" He warned before slamming the door open.

I barely raised my head to meet his worried crimson eyes as his giant frame took up most of the doorway, frozen. His expression falls at the sight of the giant crocodile tears running down my face, distress written all over my expression.

Without saying anything, he rushed over to my side, his big, warm hand landing on my back, immediately rubbing gentle circles as to comfort me.

"Baby, what's wrong? Tell me," he asked, voice trying to soothe me. I shook my head, unable to say or utter a word and I dropped my head again, breathing erratic. "You're hyperventilating, baby. You need to try and calm down a bit."

More sobs was the only thing I responded with. Hearing some shuffling, a moment passed before a soft calming melody sounded through the storm in my mind, along with the sound of gentle falling rain. It was the same several hour music track that I would usually listen to when something was bothering me.

I've always loved the sound of falling rain and ocean waves.

Kiri dropped his phone to the floor, letting the music wrap us in its soothing melody. He brought his hand to my cheek to gently bring my face up and face him. His expression sad as he gets a better look at my distraught, of the crocodile tears streaming down my face, of the deep sadness in my eyes.

Letting his other hand to join my face, he gently wiped away my tears as I tried to control my breathing. "Baby, you have to calm down. It's okay now, I'm here," he said in a gentle voice, bringing me up onto his lap, and wrapping his strong arms around me.

I clutch onto his uniform jacket, burying my face into his chest as I sobbed away, ruining his uniform with my tears and snot.

He gently rocked the both of us, bringing one of his hands up to my head as he softly brushed his fingers through my hair. "Shhh, baby. It's okay. It's okay," he whispered in my ear.

I don't know how long we sat there, listening to falling rain, Kiri rocking us, whispering calming words into my ear before my breathing was back to normal and my sobs turning into sniffles. Even long after I've calmed down, Kiri still held onto me tightly, grounding me from the storm whirling in my mind.

Only when I lifted up my head from his chest to look up at him did he give me a soft smile, reaching up to brush away strands of hair from my face and eyes. Then, Kiri reached over to his phone, pausing the music before turning back to me.

"Feeling better?"

I slowly nodded my head, my voice hoarse as I finally managed to give a reply, "Yeah, a little bit."

"What happened back there?" Kiri asked, his brow furrowed in worry.

Tears were already welling up in my (e/c) eyes, my bottom trembling as I fought to hold back the tears. Kiri reached up one hand to hold my chin, his thumb softly brushing my bottom lip.

"Please baby, I hate seeing you so distraught," he told me, eyes full of concern as he continued to stroke my bottom lip, as if trying to coax the words to come out, to explain what was paining me so much so he can fix it.

"I-" I stuttered, sniffling back the tears. "I miss him."

"Miss who, baby?" Kiri asked, confused.

"M-my dad," I said, voice now shaky as the tears started falling again. "I m-miss him so much."

Kiri seemed to come to the conclusion that I might have only been extremely homesick. "Why dont you go visit him today then? It's Friday, so you can just stay with him for the weekend."

I violently shook my head. "I-I can't."

"Why not, baby?" He started stroking my back again to try and comfort me.

"H-he died! Two months ago!" I sobbed, pressing my face to his chest again.

"Oh fuck. Shit, I am soo sorry baby. Why didn't you tell me?" Kiri asked, hugging me tightly to him. "I would've been there for you."

"I-I didn't w-want to w-worry y-you," I cried.

Kirishima started rocking us both again, his grip on me tighter as if trying to hold me together. "Of course I'm going to be worried baby. I have been worried about you. I noticed you've been distancing yourself for a while now, but I didn't want to make you talk when you weren't ready. God, I'm so unmanly, not realizing that you were in so much pain all this time." He placed his hand on top of my head. "I am sooo sorry, baby."

I sniffled, shaking my head. "D-Don't be. I w-was the one who d-decided not to t-tell any of you g-guys. I-it's not your f-fault."

"But why didn't you tell us baby? You know we all would've been here for you."

I shrugged. "I-I just wanted to be s-strong for y-you guys. I d-didn't want to w-worry any of you."

"Oh, babe." He pulled back enough to look at me. "You are strong. But it's okay to lean on us, on mee. Just because you're crying, doesn't make you weak. You're mourning, and its okay to cry when you're mourning. It just shows how close you are with your dad and how much you're missing him."

"But... But it feels like my fault though," I cried.

"What do you mean?" His brows furrowed again in confusion.

"I... I was there that night. The night he passed." I wiped at the tears even though it was fruitless with how the tears continued to fall. "We were all happily celebrating my grandma's birthday. We were all laughing. And I went to sleep a bit late that night. I noticed how his was position in his bed when I got up to use the bathroom, but I didnt think any of it. My dad sits in that position sometimes, and I know that he goes to sleep way later than me. And when I woke up at 11 the next morning because of my grandma calling for me, I got up to see what she needed. You remember, that my grandma cant really move around that well anymore?" I asked him.

Kiri nodded his head, remembering that I helped my grandma when the two of us had dinner with my dad and grandma. "So when I got up and headed towards her room, I saw my dad in the same position. But figured he must've just fallen asleep... Then I went to use the bathroom after helping my grandma, and when I looked closer, I noticed how swollen his feet were. I... I knew my dad was always sick and his legs getting swollen all the time, but... I-I just didnt think I'd find him like that." I cried, covering my mouth as another sob wracked threw me. "Vomit... All over the blankets and his bierd... A blood clot hanging from his nose-"

"Shhh, its okay, baby" Kiri hushed me, rubbing my back, "If it's too much for you, you don't have to explain anymore."

After waiting for my breathing to stabilize again, I continued, "I... I just feel like if I had checked up on him before I went to bed... Maybe... Maybe the paramedics would've been able to save him..."

Kiri grabbed onto my shoulders to pull me away so as to look me dead in the eyes with a stern look. "Y/n, listen to me. It is not your fault," he said firmly. "Okay? It is not your fault. Sometimes these things happen."

"But-" I started, but he cut me off.

"No but's. Okay? I know I havent known him as long as you, but I could tell from the first time I met him that he was soo proud of you. And probably still is." His words made me cry harder, my bottom lip trembling again as I tried to pull myself together in front of this amazing man in front of me. "There's no need to beat yourself up over this," Kiri said, pressing a kiss to my forehead as I started bawling my eyes out again. Kiri started rocking us again, holding me tight as I let out all my sadness and anguish.

"Shhhh... It's okay... Everything's will be okay..." He mumbled in my ear. "Let it all out."

We stayed like that for the next hour as I let out all my suffering, the scent of his cologne, the comforting words, and the sound of the music track all lulling me to sleep, my mind and body too heavy to fight it off.

~~~

I woke up to a dark room, the sun long gone over the horizon. I blearily blinked my eyes open, feeling my tears dried over the skin of my cheeks. All of a sudden, a warm hand slides under my shirt, rubbing a thumb on my stomach. A face was then buried into the back of my neck, a soft pair of lips kissing at the skin.

"Morning beautiful/handsome," came Kiri's sleep filled voice

"Mmnn what time is it?" I mumbled.

Kiri pulled away for a moment, turning to reach behind him for presumably his phone on my nightstand. Squinting at the glare of the phone, Kiri gave me an answer, "7 o'clock at night, so its just about dinner time." Dropping his phone back onto the nightstand, he resumed his position of spooning me, completely dwarfing my body with his giant frame. "You haven't ate lunch right?"

I shook my head. "Or breakfast. Or dinner last night. Or any meals for the past few days."

"What?" Kiri shot up, glaring down at me. "And the time before that?"

I shrugged, my brain too drained to think of a solid answer. "Couple days."

"Y/n!"

"I know, I know. I shouldn't be skipping my meals everyday. I should eat at least once a day."

"Is that why you look thinner? Cause you've been skipping your meals??!"

I shrug at him. "I was busy studying for the midterms. Besides I never went 3 days without eating something."

"That's not the point!" Kiri rubbed his hand down his face before looking at me with worry. "You shouldn't be skipping any meals or overworking yourself like this." He reached over to brush a lock of hair away. "Babe, my heart hurts at the thought of you not taking care of yourself."

I place my hand on top of his, leaning into his touch. "I know... I'm sorry. I didnt mean to worry you like this. I just... couldn't come to terms with reality so I busied myself to make me forget the pain. On the bright side I came up with this new, awesome ultimate move I've been dying to show you," I said with some excitement, trying to cheer him up.

He scowled sternly at me for a moment before sighing, shaking his head, any trace of worry and frustration gone from his face as a small smile took over his lips. "Alright fine." But then the stern look came back as he firmly told me, "But I'm not letting you skip any meals anymore, even if I have to force you to eat. And you're not doing no studying or training this weekend."

"Wait, but-" I tried to counter, stopped when the stern look in his eyes intensified.

"No if's, and's or but's. Unless its yours up in the air as I fuck you so hard you wont be able to do anything this weekend but relax."

I blushed and swallowed loudly. "Good, now wait here while I go get you a plate. Bakugou's supposed to be cooking tonight." He leaned down to plant a kiss on my lips. Then another. Then another and another before pulling away only slightly to look into my eyes with that familiar dark look in his eyes, a smirk forming on his handsome face. "Maybe I should grab you two plates. You're going to need it for fuel for tonight."

My faced burned as I realized what he meant. He chuckled darkly before standing up and walking towards the door. "I'll be back in a few. And you better be stripped down to nothing by the time I get back." Turning back towards me with a seductive look. "Don't you worry about a thing, baby girl/boy. Daddy's going to take real good care of you this weekend." Then he opened the door and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

I gulped loudly, already feeling that familiar heat down below.

It was going to a long weekend.

#gender neutral #anguish #daddy kirishima #mentally drained #kirishima eijiro x reader #my hero academia

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imagitory · 5 years ago

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Favorite twst boys?

Oooohoohoo, you wish me to talk about my Night Raven College baes? Let’s see then...

Ace Trappola ~ Okay, so I should admit right off the bat that I have a huge soft spot for the Heartslabyul dorm in particular. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll are one of my favorite things ever, and so most adaptations of those works tend to give me some amount of glee, even the really flawed ones. But for Ace specifically, it took me a little while to warm up to him, given that he can be a real prat, but once he and Deuce really rallied around Yuu (especially when they dropped everything on their winter break and took the bus all the way back to school during the Scarabia incident to try to rescue them and Grim -- MY HEART!!!), I fully adopted Ace as my second trash son and that was that. I also loved Ace’s development in the Ghost Bride story line, as well as his admittedly harsh, but still rather fair tear-down of Riddle immediately pre-Overblot. Ace can be really harsh sometimes, but that also makes him an incredibly honest sort who won’t take anyone else’s bull and won’t let anyone push him around -- yet at the same time, he’s also lighthearted enough that he never takes himself too seriously. In some ways he kind of reminds me of Jounouchi Katsuya from Yu-Gi-Oh!, and that’s definitely a compliment.

Deuce Spade ~ MY ORIGINAL TRASH SON. I loved Deuce pretty much from the get-go, considering how passionate he was about trying to fix the mistake with the chandelier and how adorable he was casting the only magic he could manage (“COME FORTH, CAULDRON!” XDD). Then there was the whole “chick” incident where we not only saw his delinquent side which he tries so desperately to hide on full display for the first time, but we also got to see how much he truly loves his mom and how friggin’ stupid and yet absolutely sincere he is, and I just fell in love with Deuce even more. The Wish Upon a Star event where we learn Deuce wants to basically be this world’s equivalent of a sheriff after having been such a delinquent in his younger years only made me feel all the more for this guy -- him wanting to be so much better than he was even if he’s not the smartest, strongest, or most talented guy around I find so compelling and likable.

Riddle Rosehearts ~ Yeah, I know, a lot of Heartslabyul love, but like with Ace, it took me a LONG while to warm up to Riddle. I thought he was a total jerk and I wanted nothing more than to give him a good telling-off (“go ahead, use that stupid collar on me -- I don’t have magic for you to block, you bullying prat!”) until Ace got around to punching Riddle in the face and then tearing him a verbal new one for me. It honestly took Riddle’s Overblotting for me to feel the least bit sorry for him, but it was how sincerely he acted after the fact in trying to make up for his mistakes that really softened my heart to him. Riddle has lived his whole life following rules and convention to the letter, and it’s made him miserable, so now that he’s come to grips with the fact that he doesn’t need to be miserable in order to live an upstanding life, he’s softened a bit. Even with this, though, that rule-abiding, upstanding attitude isn’t always hard to shake, and I think it makes for a much more balanced outcome than if Riddle just went hog-wild and stopped caring about everything -- because the whole reason Riddle followed the rules so closely is he wanted to do what was best for all and to be the best he could be, too. His motivation for being so strict came from a deep passion for leadership and order, and I’m glad that passion of Riddle’s wasn’t dampened, but instead given nuance. Now he can focus his passion more effectively, rather than lashing out in all directions indiscriminately. Like Ace as well, I loved Riddle’s development in the Ghost Marriage plot line, particularly his individual side story with Malleus. It really showcased Riddle’s noblesse oblige moral code, which I personally find the most compelling and likable aspect of his personality.

Jack Howl ~ JACK IS A GOOD BOY. Anyone who disagrees can fight me. (LOL, not really, but...) Like with Deuce, I liked Jack pretty much immediately. From the start, he just came across as so much more down-to-earth and honest than either of the other two main characters from Savanaclaw (even if Jack is also a total tsundere, but honestly, if you’ve watched any kind of anime, you’re fluent enough in “tsundere” as a language to know exactly what Jack really thinks of something). He was sort of depicted as a black sheep in his own dorm, and -- honestly? -- I’m a sucker for characters that are sort of on the fringes and don’t quite conform to what people expect them to be. Add to that how passionate Jack is about working hard and being the best he can be in his own right, as well as how deathly loyal he is, and he’s just overall a character I would love being friends with.

Jamil Viper ~ Jamil was the first character who Overblots who I actually felt sympathy for long before we see his side of the story in flashback form. Part of this admittedly is because I could sort of see where Jamil and Kalim’s story was going ahead of time, but the other reason is that I could see how much work Jamil put in all the time. Even though yeah, it was a real dick move to try to foist out Kalim so he could become Head of Scarabia instead, and yes, he manipulated things to make everyone see Kalim as cruel and irrational, it doesn’t change the fact that Jamil still acted like a Dorm Head a lot more than Kalim did a lot of the time, in the sense of making sure things run smoothly. Kalim definitely brings amazing enthusiasm to Scarabia as its leader and inspires a lot of positive feelings in the people around him, but if there’s a problem, it’s Jamil who often ends up fixing it, not Kalim. And from the start, I really felt for this guy who Kalim -- simply due to privilege -- didn’t seem to acknowledge he was demanding so much of, without receiving the same kind of attention and appreciation in return. I never disliked Kalim for this, because I could tell Kalim didn’t mean it maliciously and admittedly Jamil really should’ve said something since Kalim adores Jamil and would have likely been more than receptive to hearing what he had to say...but at the same time, given their power imbalance, it’s also not completely unsurprising that Jamil didn’t feel like he could say something. The best part about Jamil for me, at least, ended up coming out after he was allowed to finally speak his mind. Yeah, maybe he’s a little meaner now. Yeah, maybe he’s not so patient or amiable now. But he’s also allowed to show more of that deep, searing passion and ambition he’s been bottling up for so long. I loved seeing how much he enjoys dancing and performing through the Fairy Gala event and the recent Pomefiore chapter. I’ve loved how thoroughly (and pretty justifiably) distrustful he is of Azul. I’ve loved how he’s sort of on the fence emotionally about looking after Kalim the way he used to and making sure Kalim doesn’t expect his service the way he subconsciously did before. Jamil is one of the TWST characters who surprised me the most in how much I enjoy him, and I honestly can’t wait to see how much more he grows.

Epel Felmier ~ I WILL PROTECT THIS BOY, OKAY. Not because he’s delicate-looking, but because damn it, if he wants to eat macaroons and steak with the wrong fork, then he should be allowed to just go out and do it. I absolutely love the contrasts we’ve already seen in Epel so far. For as sweet and bishounen as his face is, he has a real rough, informal side fitting his background as a kid from the country, and yet he also has his “Prince Charming” moments too. He completely on his own comes up with the idea to arrive riding a horse when trying to impress the Bride during the Ghost Marriage event, and yet he’ll also tear into a bunch of ghosts who dare mistake him for a girl. Epel reminds me of a friend of mine from high school who also was a lot gruffer and more cynical than his short height and cute face would suggest, and it makes for a very interesting character, I think. You can’t pin this kid down or put him in a single box, and I think that’s awesome.

Vil Schoenheit ~ All right. Before the Pomefiore chapter, I thought there was no way in Hell that I would ever warm up to Vil. His slapping of people’s butts in the Fairy Gala event, his superficial focus on exterior beauty, and his bullying, condescending attitude toward Epel in particular really made me dislike him from the get-go. But then the Pomefiore chapter started and we reached the auditions...and I found myself agreeing with just about every critique he made, in contrast to Rook’s sunnier, fawning reviews. It made me feel like I was watching American Idol or America’s Got Talent and agreeing with Simon Cowell (which I honestly almost always did, whenever I watched those!). And as the Pomefiore chapter’s unfolded, I’ve seen that fascinating contrast in Vil. Yes, he’s very superficial -- but his dream is to act and be an idol, and in that world of celebrity, appearances are important. Yes, he’s very conceited -- but he’s also an incredibly hard worker who’s put in a lot of effort to improve himself and his talents to the point that he should be proud of them. Yes, he’s almost cruel in how relentlessly he pushes people -- but he never holds anyone to a standard he wouldn’t also expect of himself. Yes, he’s very forceful and sees his way as the only way -- but he does truly want those people to succeed in his own weird way, even if he can’t properly express it. Not to mention the fact that he’s constantly typecast as villainous characters, and he just wants to be a hero who makes it to the final curtain call!! My heart!! It’s made it so that like with Jamil, I’ve found sympathy for Vil long before he Overblots, and so I’m all the more eager to see how both the Overblot itself and its aftermath impacts Vil as a character and his relationships with the other characters.

Malleus Draconia ~ Oh, come on, who doesn’t love Tsunotaro? This precious child needs all of the love and party invitations in the world! (And yes, he may be an immortal fae, but he’s still a precious child to me, so there.) I would totally love chatting about gargoyles and grotesques with him. X3

#ask me #opinion #twst #twisted wonderland #oh boy here i go #ace trappola #deuce spade #riddle rosehearts #jack howl #jamil viper #epel felmier #vil schoenheit #malleus draconia

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smoochkooks · 5 years ago

Text

—the (un)holy cock-up (m.)

⟶ pairing: park jimin/reader

⟶ genre: smut, angst

⟶ word count: 14.5k

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, profanity, unnecessary amount of biblical puns, some critic on catholic church, this is a heavy read be aware

⟶ summary: there is a quite long list of circumstances, with student loan and rent on the very top of it, that led you to work in the sunday’s spirit editorial department, a newspaper overally known among fellow catholic community of busan, with park jimin as your boss.

when your small cock-up goes unnoticeably out of your hand, you find yourself in a situation painted in all shades of wrong.

or, alternatively: when it’s forbidden, it tastes bittersweet.

a/n: please, before you read this: take the warnings seriously. this is not a light read, it touches some heavy and quite controversial topics. tit also involves a scene where a person in charge exhibits inappropriate behavior towards their subordinate which I do not condone, however it’s all done with consent.

ps. im really proud of this work so give me some love please:(

Fingertips typing furiously on the keyboards, sights focused on the computers’ screens, brows furrowed, minds utterly concentrated and all of this accompanied by angelic voices of various religious songs playing in the background.

This is how a typical day at Sunday’s Spirit editorial department goes by.

The newspaper is a local source of information for the catholic community not only in the city of Busan, but in the whole country. Its history starts in 70s, when Park Min-Sung with his wife started publishing the very first version of the Sunday’s Spirit, selling copies in front of churches. Young activists definitely hadn’t anticipated such a big success, especially due to hard times of the military dictatorship in Korea, but two decades later they have become one of the most affluent families in Busan. The newspaper remains the Park’s legacy till these days, being owned by Min-Sung’s son, with the original founder’s grandson Jimin as an editor-in-chief.

Sometimes you ponder how did you end up in this kind of situation. Sitting at your desk with eyes glued to the screen, working for the catholic newspaper with Mary did you know and other holy songs playing from the Spotify’s Blessed Hits playlist.

First of all, you aren’t quite a Jesus stan yourself. Not a regular churchgoer, Bible reader or a person who lives according to God’s will with Ten Commandments written on your heart and soul.

Someone may wonder, what a young, aspiring journalist like you is doing here? Yes, that’s right.

Money is the reason.

The perspectives of wealthy life as a presenter in the national television or a host in the radio were just a mirage, because after receiving your master degree in journalism you realised that, unfortunately, a bright future was bright only in your unreal dreams.

The case was simple. You needed money. Your bank account was literally screaming at you to get your shit together and figure something out before you end up under the bridge. So you started searching for a job, looking over various offers on the Internet for two weeks straight. A waitress? Nah, too clumsy for that. Jewelry seller? Definitely not, since you are a happy owner of a few pairs of earrings from etsy-like online shop that certainly have nothing to do with real gold. You were almost convinced you’re destined to be a sexworker but then you stumbled upon an offer from the Sunday’s Spirit.

It was your chance. A God himself decided to take pity on you.

In that exact moment the genre of the newspaper wasn’t important. The vision of bankruptcy was enough for you to wear knee-length black skirt, white button-up shirt and a pair of high heels you’ve never worn before and go on a job interview with plastered smile on your face, looking delightful like you have just given birth to Jesus Christ in Bethlehem.

All the Hollywood actresses could be put into shame after your Oscar-winning performance you acted out on the interview in front of middle-aged woman in checked jacket that no one wears since 90s. Your enthusiasm and assurance you live good, catholic woman’s life, along with your master degree and motivational letter (you added a quote from The Letter to Philipians at the end of it to spice it up) was enough to be accepted for the position of Ask and you shall find column creator.

The job itself wasn’t complex or tough. The newspaper on its online site has a page where people can create an account and send asks to the author of the column who responds to them. You did something wrong and you aren’t sure it should be considered a sin? Having problems with regular praying on mornings and evenings? Write to us and we will solemnly help you with the God’s blessing, it says.

This is basically how it works. Each week, the said journalist chooses the most interesting questions and answers to make an article to the Sunday’s Spirit’s next publication. Of course, you can’t answer those questions the way you would like. You must do it according to the catholic laws and God’s plan (the True God’s plan, not Drake’s). A woman who interviewed you even gave you a notebook full of already made-up responses and a list of things you definetely mustn’t write if you still want to be employed.

To be completely frank, you don’t hate your job that much. You actually feel kind of nice, helping other people with their problems. You’ve been doing this for six months now and during this period of time you got used to some things.

A ‘Jesus, I trust you’ framed picture you swore your mother gave you on your 16th birthday standing on your desk. Holy beats blasting through the speakers until you leave the office at 5pm. A big-ass cross hanging right in front of the entrance to the editorial. Lee Chin-sun, the Weekly News column author, rushing to Park Jimin’s bureau every day at different hours in her pencil skirts and high heels knocking on the floor.

There’s only the Pentecost in the middle of the office that could actually surprise you.

“Looks like our Mary Magdalene is going to Jesus cave again,” mutters Kim Taehyung, the newspaper’s main photographer, friend from your desk and, actually, the only friend you have here. Very much gay and just like you, in desperate need for money. “It’s her third visit today. I wonder what it is this time. New prayer to Pope Francis she found?” he whispers and you chuckle at that quietly, looking around if anyone pays attention to your conversation, but everyone seems busy doing their own stuff. “Maybe she’s sucking his dick right now and we all think they are playing Who said it? Bible edition,” he adds in a hushed tone.

You start thinking about it for a while. Is that really possible for someone like Park Jimin, the editor-in-chief of the Sunday’s Spirit to have a sexual relationship with his coworker? The man who has a smaller version of Pietà in his office?

“I mean look at him. I would smash that ass too.”

You roll your eyes at Taehyung words, going back to your previous task but every time you try to concentrate, the face of your boss appears in front of your eyes uncontrollably.

Truth to be told, Park Jimin was a sight.

Blond hair, always perfectly styled and simply parted in the middle, revealing his forehead. Dark, sharp eyes that seem to pierce right through your soul and full, plump lips which could only be described as kissable.

He wears only high fashion brands, wandering through the office in Prada and Tom Ford suits that hugs his sculpted body just right. You think that as for a person who never misses Sunday’s mass, Park Jimin has also nice thighs. And a fine piece of ass, as Taehyung would describe it.

Newest Rolex that costs probably more than you will ever earn in your entire life on his wrist, Mercedes who just got brought out to the international market standing on his parking spot in front of the building, an apartment in the most luxurious area in Busan.

Park Jimin inhales God’s mercy and exhales money.

You spoke to him more explicitly only once, on your first day at work. He greeted you and wished good luck, saying that everything will be fine because you know, God’s good. Since that day, Park Jimin seems out of your reach. You contact him only through email, sending articles for him to check and approve, occasionally receiving some short message from him to improve this and that. He rarely leaves his office during working hours but when he does, it’s either for business meetings outside the editorial or for a lunch at nearby restaurant.

There’s also one, special occasion, every Friday, that’s a sacred time for all the employees. The clock hits 12am and so it begins. The angelic voices stop singing and everybody shifts on their sits.

“Oh, Holy Judas. I almost forgot about my favourite part of the week,” Taehyung sighs, standing up from his desk. And by that, he means-

“Friday’s Bible contemplation lunch break, everyone please gather up at the cafeteria.” Park Jimin’s sweet as honey voice says through the speakers.

You stand up from your chair with reluctance. Taking food with you, you go to the cafeteria, following Taehyung.

That’s actually the next thing you got used to while working at Sunday’s Spirit. Bible contemplation meetings are, as you found out from Taehyung, Jimin’s idea after he became an editor-in-chief almost one year ago. Every Friday all the workers sit together, eat their lunches and listen to Jimin as he reads a certain chapter from the book with true admiration written on their faces. After that, he usually asks some questions holding a discussion among the participants who, unlike you, happily takes part in.

The cafeteria looks rather normal, like any other lunchrooms you see in offices. Painted in bright yellow colors, with a few tables and a typical kitchen set in the back. Except for one thing.

A replica of Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper hanging on the wall.

You decided a long time ago that you don’t want to know how much money it cost Jimin to have something like that here.

The newspaper’s workers, almost like the twelve Apostles, sit together by the tables. Lee Chin-sun at the very front, looking completely mesmerized by today’s Park Jimin’s appearance. He’s wearing navy blue suit that Taehyung swears it’s from Hugo Boss. The place next to Chin-sun is always occupied by tall, black-haired guy named Choi Eunwoo, main graphic designer, hopelessly in love with her since his first days at work. Behind them there’s a group from emendation department, with their leader Min Yoongi and other journalists. You always sit with Taehyung at the back, near the kitchen, not necessarily paying attention to what’s happening in the front.

Jimin, as on every Friday, walks to the small podium, designed to look like a pulpit in the church and opens the Bible. But one thing is odd: Jimin ain’t no priest or altar boy himself and he certainly dosen’t look like one, flipping through the pages of what you think it’s New Testament this time.

From your point of view, you could practically see how Chin-sun sighs with content expression on her face, lacing her fingers together on the lap and straightening her back. Eunwoo, on the other hand, shifts uncomfortably on his seat, sending Chin-sun quick glances full of unspoken longing she never acknowledges, to his dismay.

Then, Park Jimin clears his throat and the whole cafeteria goes quiet.

Truth to be told, you never really listen to what he’s reading. This time is no different. You just chew on your avocado sandwich, occasionally taking a sip of coffee. Your boss’ smooth voice reaches your ears faintly but you don’t pay attention to it, focusing on eating and Taehyung’s hushed rumbling instead.

“Look at our Mary Magdalene, she looks like she might burst a nut just by listening to CEO Jesus,” he says, making you peek at the girl.

Mary Magdalene is a nickname that Taehyung made up for Chin-sun when he started working at Sunday’s Spirit, mainly because of her attitude and relationship with Jimin. It’s rather platonic, at least for now. She looks at him with pure admiration on her face and she literally melts everytime he smiles at her. But Chin-sun’s ‘stalking’ isn’t unreasonable. Her father is a well-known philanthropist in Busan. He donates catholic charities, churches and, what’s the most interesting – he has some connections with Jimin’s father, the owner of Sunday’s Spirit.

And here’s the thing: Chin-sun’s hare and hounds definitely have some hidden reason. Maybe the whole marriage thing that has become a gossip in the office is true. Which makes poor Eunwoo’s situation even worse.

“Sometimes I wonder why has he fallen in love with her in first place,” you whisper, pointing at the graphic designer. “He knows he stands no chance against Jimin.”

“What can I say, you can’t help who you fall in love with.” Taehyung muses almost poetically, shrugging his shoulders.

You hum at that, placing your coffee cup on the table and looking around the cafeteria. It seems like Jimin has ended his reading session for today and now he invites everyone to join the discussion about the topic. He flashes Chin-sun a gentle smile and you could swear the girl is biting her lip.

On the corner of your eye you see Taehyung smirking.

“What?” you ask.

Taehyung takes a sip of his coffee lazily (it’s always caramel macchiato), peering at Jimin. “Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if our boss really wants to settle not only with Chin-sun, but anyone in general,” he says languidly.

You furrow your brows. “What makes you think that? I mean, look at him. He probably waits with sex till marriage.” you snort.

Taehyung chuckles at your words. “Ah, sweetheart, you really know nothing about Park Jimin.”

“What do you mean?”

He moves closer to you, leaning towards your ear. “What I mean,” he whispers, “is that Park Jimin isn’t such a prude everyone thinks he is. At least he didn’t use to be.”

You raise your eyebrows at him with disbelief. “What? He’s secretly gay?” you mock.

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I wish, but no, he isn’t,” he answers with a sigh. “Do you know Min Yoongi from emendation team?” he then asks, pointing at grey-haired man with feline eyes sitting behind Chin-sun.

You nodd your head. Min Yoongi is a hard to read guy. Always suspiciously silent, practically never leaves his office. Something makes you wonder how did Taehyung end up befriending him enough to casually gossip about the boss. You will ask him about this on another occasion.

“So here’s the thing,” Taehyung begins, lowering the volume of his voice. “He used to study at the same university in Seoul with Jimin. They even had been together in the fraternity. Yoongi-hyung told me some juicy details about our boss’ life back then.”

You frown at his words. “And you are telling me this now?!” you hiss.

“I found out literally two days ago!” Taehyung exclaims, maybe a little too loud, so you quickly place your index finger on your lips, shushing him.

“Fine. Continue.” you whisper, looking around to see if anyone pays attention to you.

“Well, Park Jimin used to be a trouble back then. A golden boy of his family in Busan, but a campus fuckboy and obnoxious heartbreaker in Seoul. He smoked cigarettes, drank enormous amounts of alcohol, got wasted on every weekend, missed classes and changed hair colors as often as his girlfriends. By the way, don’t you think he would slay pink hair?”

“Taehyung can you please–”

“Okay, okay. Enough thirsting over Jimesus. So, as you can see, there was no place for Sunday’s mass and Bible contemplation meetings in his life. And here’s the awaited plotwist. His parents somehow found out his son wasn’t living good catholic life on his studies and got extremely pissed off. They simply gave him an ultimatum: if he doesn’t stop his shenanigans, they will cut him off their money and they won’t make him Sunday’s Spirit heir.” Taehyung stops his rumbling for a while, letting you proceed all the bewildering informations about your dear boss he has just revealed.

Your eyes simply widen at the revelations.

Park Jimin, the man who organises Bible contemplation lunch breaks, a regular churchgoer, someone who you always thought has a cross tattooed on his back, was a playboy who slept with a half of the female community in the university?

Interesting.

“Rest of the story is simple. He changed his behavior, got a master degree in journalism and came back to Busan to work here. What is funny, his first position was the same as yours now,” Taehyung ends his story with a light chuckle. “Now you understand why it’s hard for me to believe he really thinks about getting married and having at least three kids.”

You look up at Park Jimin, who’s standing now in the centre of the cafeteria, with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding at one of the journalists words. His gaze is so intense and filled with such an authority that makes you understand why Chin-sun literally squirms when he looks at her that way.

It’s not hard for you to imagine him in much different surroundings.

Him, standing with a cup of beer in his hand in the middle of the crowd of drunken people at some frat party. There’s a leather jacket on his shoulders and he’s wearing tight-fitting pants that hugs his gorgeous thighs much better than his usual slacks he puts on every day before he sets off to work. He scans the room with a mishevious smirk dancing on his features, biting and licking his lips as he looks for his prey for tonight.

He then spots her, his pick for the night. He runs his fingers through his silky locks and approaches the girl, whispering dirty promises to her ear as he sways their bodies to the rhythm of loud music blasting through the speakers. Later that night he has her underneath him, begging him to touch her. He fucks her hard, leaving bruises all over her limp, exhausted body. There will be soreness between her thighs in the morning and a few violet love bites on her neck, a gentle reminder that all of this wasn’t just a dream.

But there’s no warm body next to her she could wake up to, no ‘good morning, baby’ or a second round of love making between the sheets. Because Park Jimin isn’t like that. He waited until her breath slowed down and eyelids fluttered shut, drifting her off to sleep. He left in the middle of the night, a cigarette caught between his swollen from kisses lips. He fumed the poison and smiled to himself, wondering what his parents would think when they found out. A golden boy of his family, future heir of the Park’s legacy, coming back from one of his sexcapeds with girl which name he didn’t even remember.

The Lord himself must have already cursed him and he’s currently planning the punishments for him in depths of Hell. But does Park Jimin look like he really care?

You stare blankly ahead, imagining those scenes in your head. You can’t help but squeeze your thighs because God, yes, Park Jimin is hot, even if he reads Breviary before he goes to sleep. What a shame he has changed.

A smooth like honey voice pulls you out from your airy-fairy slumber.

“Miss Y/N?”

You jolt in panic after hearing your name, glancing around and praying that wasn’t the person you think it was. But this silky, melodious voice you would recognize everywhere.

God hates you though, he knows what kind of scandalous things you were daydreaming about and now it’s his time to punish you.

Looking up, your gaze settles on no one other than Park Jimin, who stares at you with his left eyebrow raised, pursing his lips. He extinguishes the aura of pure dominance around him and you involuntarily blush, squirming under his intense glare. You’re royally screwed.

You clear your throat, trying to calm down rapidly beating heart. Without success.

“Yes, sir?” you manage to answer innocently. Certainly not like you weren’t thinking about being fucked by him minutes ago. You don’t even have time to be surprised he remembers your name.

Park Jimin looks unamazed by your sweet tone; he almost seems bored, but definitely irritated. “I asked you a question and I’m waiting for your response.” he says lowly.

Fuckfuckfuck. God have mercy on you. What was the question? Shit, you don’t even know what fragment he had read before.

In act of complete desperation you elbow Taehyung for help but this little shit pretends he has no idea what’s going on, looking at The Last Supper with sudden interest.

You are purely, loyally, utterly fucked.

You adopt the most charming smile you could muster, knowing that it will have zero affect on Park Jimin and ask, “Could you repeat the question one more time, sir? I’m afraid I didn’t hear you correctly.” Jesus, when has your voice become so high-pitched?

A cruel smirks forms on Park Jimin’s lips. He shakes his head, tsking. Taehyung mutters something under his breath that sounds dangerously close to “It was nice meeting you, sweetheart.” You gulp, waiting for your sentence and hoping Pontius Pilate will be gracious to you.

“My, my,” Jimin muses. It makes you feel like a little girl being scolded by the teacher due to her outrageous behavior. You bite your lip so hard you might draw blood, waiting for your boss’ next words. “Of course you didn’t hear my question, because you weren’t paying attention to our discussion.”

In the corner of your eye you see Chin-sun shaking her head with detestation. What a bitch, you think to yourself.

You take a deep breath then, nails digging crescent moons on the skin of your palms. You don’t like being in the spotlight, you never did, but now you have no choice but face the consequences. “My deepest apologies, sir. The behavior I exhibited was highly inappropriate,” you say, bowing your head. Jimin eyes your figure from head to toe and you might actually feel his burning gaze on your skin. Your cheeks flush in crimson even more.

The editor-in-chief seems to deliberate with himself for a while, turning his head slightly to the side, not breaking the eye contact with you. Finally, after a moment that seems to last an hour, he speaks.

“I think you need a lesson that will teach you to pay attention to our weekly discussions, miss Y/N. That’s why I want you to write a 4000 words long paper about the role of Mary Magdalene in Jesus Christ’s life which we had discussed today but you, unfortunately, didn’t acknowledge it.”

You freeze. Like a scene in the movie, everything stops. The embarassement you felt earlier is quickly replaced by pure anger and irritation. He wants you to write a fucking paper? What is this? University lectures?

Never before in your entire life have you felt so humiliated. All eyes are on you; you could practically sense how they are trying not to laugh out loud. Eunwoo and Taehyung look at you with apologetic faces while Chin-sun smirks, whispering something to Jimin’s ear.

“I apologize once again, sir,” you grit through your teeth with a forced smile. Jimin nods then, not even bothering to look at you again. You’re dismissed, that’s what his behavior is saying.

“Our meeting is over, you can go back to your work.” Jimin announces and walks away from the cafeteria with Chin-sun by his side.

You wait for everyone to leave and the you let out a groan of annoyance, burring your head in your hands.

“Hey, it could have been worse. He didn’t fire you after all.” Taehyung laughs but he quickly shuts up as soon as he sees your glare. You stand up from your chair with a scowl written all over your face, and storm out of the lunchroom.

And may the God help you.

Later that unfortunate day, you sit by your desk again, scrolling through the Ask and you shall find page absentmindedly and waiting for the new asks to come. Everyone has returned to their work like nothing has happened but it doesn’t stop you from feeling all those eyes constantly on your back. Maybe you weren’t fired but the humiliation and embarrassment of being told off by your boss publicly makes you want to disappear and never show up at the editorial again.

“Y/N,” Taehyung’s deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You look up at him and find the man smiling at you lightly. He’s wearing a long, camel coat and a big scarf around his neck with ridiculous patterns that reminds you of Persian diwans. He places his black camera bag on the desk, which means he’s leaving the office. “I’m free of office work for today so I just wanted to say goodbye.” he explains and you just nod.

“Bye, Taehyung. See you on Monday.” you say maybe a little bit to wryly and he feels that, letting out a long sigh.

Taehyung seems to deliberate with himself for a moment before he decides to speak again. He clears his throat audibly. “And I, uhm, I’m sorry. It’s my fault that you are in this situation. I started this conversation and I should be the one writing this stupid paper for Mister Prude.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the new nickname Taehyung gave Jimin. The anger you felt before drifts away from you slowly, and you smile at your friend apologetically. “Oh, God, Tae. I’m such a bitch sometimes, sorry,” you blurt out.”I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at him. Besides, maybe that’s good I’ve got homework. I don’t remember when was the last time I wrote some-”

Your words are interrupted by a loud laugh that resonates through the office. You look in the direction of the voice just to see Chin-sun with her manicured hand on Jimin’s chest, throwing her head back from the laughter, too dramatically for your taste. She seems to have changed her clothes, a black pencil skirt long forgotten and replaced by a red, bodycon dress. Her dark hair is also styled differently, curled and loose. She looks beautiful, matching Jimin’s appearance perfectly.

“Where are they going?” Taehyung whispers to you, furrowing his brows. You shrug your shoulders, tearing your eyes of Chin-sun and Jimin. “Maybe our Mary Magdalene’s plan to win Jesus’ heart is working. Poor Eunwoo,” he sighs, looking at his watch to check the time. “Anyway, I gotta go. I have to drive all the way to some shithole near the city to take photos of an old lady who swears she saw saint Francis or other dude with halo speaking to her,” he grumbles and you giggle at his words. “Good luck with your paper, sweetheart.” he leans and places a small peck on your cheek.

“Bye, Tae.” you say, watching him leave the office right after Jimin and Chin-sun.

You let out a long, tired sigh, counting the time to leave the office and finally be back home, with a bottle of red wine and new season of Game of Thrones that are waiting for you to watch the whole week. Then, when you’re about to stand up and make yourself another coffee, a new ask pops up in your inbox with the title ‘Sex S.O.S’.

You raise your eyebrows because honestly, what kind of title is this? Curiosity wins the battle with a hot cup of an americano and you click the show more button. You put on your prescription glasses and start reading.

Dear Sunday’s Spirit editorial,

My name is Kang Seoyeon. I study medicine at the University of Seoul, I’ve got an amazing group of friends and a loving boyfriend. And here’s where the actual problem begins. I’m from the catholic family with long traditions, and as you can guess, he isn’t.

We’ve been together for almost 2 years now and since my parents don’t want me to live with him before the marriage, there’s also no sexual life between us. I was actually surprised they agreed I can date a non-religious person in first place, so the rules weren’t that horrible at the beginning.

My boyfriend always seemed to be understanding about the fact that I’m catholic and he has never had issues against it because I stated this on the start of our relationship, but lately… he’s been distant. We meet up less often and I feel like simple kissing after 2 years isn’t enough for him. I even thought about initiating something that wouldn’t necessarily involve the real intercourse but I’m too inexperienced and shy for that. We are slowly drifting apart.

I don’t know what to do. I love him so much and I don’t want to lose him just because of some stupid rules I need to follow. I’m scared he will leave me for some other beautiful girl who wouldn’t have anything against sleeping with him, especially after considering the fact that he isn’t virgin unlike me and he experienced this kind of pleasure before.

I hope you will help me.

Yours faithfully,

Kang Seoyeon.

You blink once, twice. Read the message again and then, something snaps in you.

To Hell with these stupid, old-fashioned rules straight from the Middle Ages. To Hell with celibacy till marriage, masturbation prohibition and living according to God’s will. To Hell with Park Jimin and his ridiculous moral code (and his Bible contemplation lunchbreaks).

Unofficial eleventh commandment: If a girl wants a dick, she deserves to have it.

And that’s exactly what your response to the girl is in a nutshell.

Your blood boils in your veins with anger as you’re typing furiously on the keyboard, not even bothering to check if your sudden outburst makes any sense.

Dear Seoyeon,

It’s Y/N here, the journalist who you wrote this message to.

I don’t know what kind of response are you expecting from me but honestly? If you think I’m going to recommend you some praying to Saint Rita then you’re wrong. I’m done with this shit.

Let me make this straight: if you want to fuck your boyfriend, do it. Maybe God wouldn’t approve that but don’t worry, he won’t send you to hell because of some dick in your pussy.

They are plenty of worse things in this world than having sex with the person you love. Look at me. I’m literally writing to catholic newspaper while using words like ‘God’ and ‘Fuck’ in the same sentence. And that’s not even a small piece of what I’ve done in my life.

So you go girl, suck your boyfriend off. Make him beg. He will never leave you after this. You have my blessings and Jesus is giving you metaphysical thumbs up from above. Sex is amazing thing and you don’t have to wait for it until you say ‘yes’ in front of some guy in black cassock. Just go with the flow.

May the God help you!

Love, Y/N.

P.S. Watch out that guy. He seems suspicious. If he’s been really sex deprived for two years he will die after you give him a head.

Sent.

You exhale loudly, staring at the screen. You did that. Six months into working in Sunday’s Spirit and the time when you lost your temper has finally come. You should probably feel ashamed or have some type of conscience pangs but actually you aren’t even near this state.

Grinning to yourself, you delete the message you had sent to the girl from your inbox and check the time. It’s almost 5pm and it looks like you haven’t even realised you’re the only person at the office right now. Since it’s Friday and Jimin has already left, seems like everyone has decided to set off earlier too.

You turn off your computer, packing your things to the bag. Wrapping a scarf around your neck tightly, you leave the building, welcoming the coolness of the early Spring evening in Busan.

When you’re about to cross the street, your phone buzzes in the pocket of your coat. You stop for a moment, smiling to yourself when you read the message.

[04:23pm] from Tae: hey

[04:23pm] from Tae: i know you are probably planning an evening with mary magdalene n jesus but

[04:23pm] from Tae: wouldnt u want to go for drinks with me tonight?

[04:23pm] from Tae: same place as usual

[04:24pm] from Tae: as a wise man once said: nothing helps better for the writer’s block than vodka

[04:24pm] from Tae: so what do u say?

You don’t need to think twice when you quickly type a response. Game of Thrones and wine can wait till another time.

[04:26pm] from me: how could i say no to kim taehyung and vodka?

[04:26pm] from me: see u there

Kim’s is a place like no one other in Busan.

You wouldn’t even know about its existence if it wasn’t Taehyung who took you there first when you started working at Sunday’s Spirit, solemnly promising free drinks. Who would you be if you didn’t agree to that?

When you arrived at the bar, it eventually turned out the alcohol was costless hence it’s his family business since over thirty years and his brother Namjoon is a bartender, not because Taehyung willingly decided to pay for you.

Kim’s is located in rather industrial part of the city, sandwiched between factories and huge housing estates, not looking really inviting at first glance, but the place has its own, unique charm. There are some stories, shrouding the building’s history in mystery. Some people say it used to be headquarters of the most dangerous mafia in Busan, some even believe it served as the secret arsenal during the Korean War.

But what’s definitely true, it’s the fact that Taehyung’s parents bought this place in swinging times of 80s for a small amount of money and turned the place into disco bar which had become a must-go spot for young people in Busan.

Kim’s on the outside, with its large red neon sign hanging above the entrance, looks more like a night club than a bar, but on the inside the magic of kitschy 80s still remains the same (Taehyung swears retro is in fashion these days and that’s why he didn’t let his parents redecorate when they wanted to).

You always feel like you’re traveling back in time when you visist Kim’s.

The place is quite big, with a large dancefloor in the middle and red leather sofas strewn around the place along with the tables. Walls are made of brick and colorful, vibrant neon lights are shimmering on them. Oh, not to mention the huge disco ball on the ceiling. Everything accompanied with the quality music provided by Namjoon.

There are few billiard and foosball tables in the corner of the bar, always occupied by the same group of middle-aged men on weekdays and university students on weekends. But the thing that attract attention of the customers the most, is the bar with Namjoon behind it.

When you enter the place, you spot Taehyung and his blond mop of hair immediately. He sits on one of the bar stools, talking to his older brother. He’s wearing beige pants and floral button-up shirt that seems to match colors with his pinkish-looking drink he holds. You notice a new pair of sapphire earrings and a huge ring from the same collection on his forefinger. Classy, as always.

Taehyung grins broadly when he sees you. He puts his drink on the counter and stands up to greet you. His breath smells like strawberries and vodka when he leans to place his usual, small peck on your cheek. “Hi, sweetheart,” he says with his signature smirk plastered on his face, scanning your figure. “You look gorgeous. Last time you did this kind of make-up you wanted to get laid.”

You rolls your eyes at his words, sitting on a stool next to him. “Hi, Taehyung. Thank you for appreciating my efforts to look like a decent human being but no, I’m not planning on getting laid tonight.” you answer, waving to Namjoon who makes drinks for a group of girls a few meters from you. He smiles bashfully at you, showing his dimples.

“I’m not saying you want a fuck, calm down. I just assumed since it’s not everyday that you put eyeliner on,” Taehyung explains himself. “So let me do that again,” He takes a deep breath, placing a hand on his chest in a dramatic manner. “Y/N, you look absolutely breathtaking. I could stare at you for hours and I wouldn’t mind that even a bit. My homosexuality is at risk right now.”

You ignore his exeggarated outburst, rolling your eyes. “I’m not using eyeliner everyday because there’s something called dresscode in our work, you know?” you say. “Besides, my mum says you should look good on every occasion because you don’t know when you will meet the love of your life.”

Taehyung puts a hand on his heart and sighs with relief. “Thank God I always look good.”

You chuckle and then your eyes wander for a moment to Namjoon, who seems busy listening to whatever the pink-haired girl is telling him with polite smile on his face.

“Here,” Taehyung nudges your side, bringing your attention back to him. He hands you the same pinkish drink as he was drinking when you arrived. “Hyung told me it’s their new specialty or something. It’s called Flamingo’s Beach,” he says and you take the glass in your hand. “I have no idea what Namjoonie-hyung put here but as long as it looks good, it’s good. Cheers!” Taehyung sips his one and watches you with raised eyebrows as you’re taking a generous gulp of the drink. “And…?” he asks.

You lick your lips, humming to yourself. “Not bad. Tastes like strawberries.”

Taehyung opens his mouth to say something but he gets interrupted by his brother. “Y/N, hi. How are you?” Namjoon approaches you with two beer mugs in his hands.

His hair is back to his natural brown color now, purple strands long forgotten since the last time you saw him. It looks like he’s been working out lately, his posture more bulky and it makes his black shirt stick to his body tightly. Namjoon’s good-looking, you always knew that, but he seems to be even more handsome now.

“Hey, I’ve been good, thank you,” you greet him with maybe too much enthusiasm for your liking. You always had a weak spot for him. “How’s the bar going?” you ask.

“Busy, as you can see,” he replies, chuckling to himself. “I would love to talk to you more but I have some work to do in back room, so…” Namjoon trails off sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

“Oh, it’s okay. We can catch up another time.” You smile at him and you could swear his cheeks flushed.

“I’ll be going. See you.” Namjoon stammers out, not even waiting for your response before he disappears from your sight.

The pregnant silence sets in between you and Taehyung, something heavy hangs in the air and you feel it, tapping your fingers on the counter to the rhythm of one of the ABBA songs, waiting impatiently.

Taehyung looks like he’s debating with himself in his head. You narrow your eyes. He’s adopted a face you know pretty well, too well even. He looks everywhere but keep avoiding your gaze. He wants to ask you something, you’re sure of it, but he doesn’t know how.

Finally, after a moment of awkward quietness, Taehyung finally opens his mouth. “So, here’s the thing,” he starts and you wait for the bomb to drop.

Last time when he approached you like that, he asked you if you would be down for a threesome with him and some guy he met on Tinder. Your eyes almost popped out of your head when you heard his blunt proposition. You were eating lunch at cafeteria and the words casually slipped from between his lips as he chewed on his egg sandwich, like he didn’t just propose you having sex with him and instead asked for a lift to home after work.

Taehyung begged you for a whole week, pleading and convincing it’ll be fun. When you eventually agreed (sex draught make people do stupid things), the other guy didn’t show up. You ended up drinking tequila shots with Taehyung that night in his apartment, and you can’t quite recall how it happened, but somehow you found yourself unzipping your friend’s pants and the rest is history. He passed out right after he came. Now when you think about it, you feel a sudden urge to ask him if he remembers that.

You will do it next time, you promise yourself.

Taehyung though doesn’t ask you about having a threesome or robbing Park Jimin’s house this time. His intentions are pretty much different.

“See, Namjoon split up with his girlfriend few weeks ago,” he says and you prick your ears. “He’s not in good condition right now, as you can see. It was a nasty break up, he found out she’s been cheating on him,” He lets out a long sigh. You bite your lip, imagining Namjoon’s disappointed face when he discovered the truth. What a bitch cheats on someone like him? “So, I thought maybe you could… cheer him up a little bit?” Taehyung ends hesitantly, with a glint of hope in his eyes.

You frown. Cheer him up? Did he just imply what you think about?

“Look, I get it, he’s sad and angry, but what the fuck, Taehyung? What do you want me to do? Do you want me to be his rebound? Make him forget?” you exclaim. Taehyung quickly shakes his head but you don’t let him say anything. “I feel sorry for Namjoon but I’m not going to take advantage of him when he’s literally still hurt.”

“No, it’s not like that!” Taehyung rushes to explain. “Well, maybe it sounded like that but I swear, I didn’t mean that!”

“Then what should I do? Wipe his tears? Tell him a joke? Or maybe-”

“Of course he wants you to suck his brother’s heartbroken dick, doll.”

A sudden, low voice interrupts your conversation. Your eyes follow the direction when it comes from, looking to Taehyung’s left where not even a meter away a very familiar grey-haired man with feline eyes sits.

“Min Yoongi,” you say matter-of-factly.

The leader of emendation team from Sunday’s Spirit editorial raises his hand in which he holds whiskey, greeting you and Taehyung. “Hello, doll. Hello, Taehyung,” he says, not even bothering to look at you.

You elbow Taehyung searching for explanation but he shrugs his shoulders, turning to face the man as well.

“First of all, since when do you call me ‘doll’? We have never spoken a word to each other. Secondly, how long have you been sitting here and listening?” you ask Yoongi.

He snorts, smirking. “Long enough to know how Taehyung comforts his brother after break up.” he simply answers and Taehyung’s cheeks blush in crimson at his words.

“You come here often? I’ve never seen you here before,” you continue, crossing your arms over chest.

Next to you Taehyung lets out a sigh. “Yes, he does. Albeit I haven’t seen him for a while here,” You look at him in confusion. “Yoongi-hyung is Namjoonie-hyung close friend from university days.” he clarifies.

You raise your eyebrows at that. “So Namjoon went to the same school as Park Jimin?”

“Not the same. We met under different circumstances.” Yoongi cuts in.

“They’ve been together in underground rap group, or some shit. Didn’t like each other at first but eventually stuck together till the end of studies.” Taehyung ends and grey-haired man nods.

You can’t help but chuckle at that.

“What’s funny in that?” Yoongi scowls.

“Nothing. I just imagined you and Namjoon in snapbacks, rapping about the unfairness of social hierarchy,” you say, grinning at him.

“Well, you may believe me or not, but we even made a mixtape.” Yoongi reveals proudly, taking a sip of his whiskey.

Your eyes widen in curiosity. “Then what happened? Why aren’t you in Seoul now, still producing music? Why do you work in this stupid newspaper and Namjoon’s a bartender?” you ask interrogatively.

“Life happened, doll. We didn’t have enough money to publish our works so we decided to quit it.”

“Oh,” you breathe out.

You could see the nostalgia written across Yoongi’s face. You feel sorry for him, for Namjoon. Everything is always about the money. That’s why you’re working in Sunday’s Spirit even though it was never your dream in first place. Even though you have much higher ambitions than being Ask and you shall find column author.

Ever since you were little, you loved writing. You never complained, not even once, when your teachers in school assigned you to write something. They kept saying you have an extraordinary talent and it would be a shame if you didn’t do anything with that.

During your high school years, you were the leader of school newspaper’s team, still writing your own works every time you didn’t have something different to do. After that, you got to the university in Seoul, your another dream came true. You got a master degree, an apprenticeship in the Korean version of highly popular, world-widely known magazine. And then, nothing. No job applications available. No newspapers or publishing companies wanting you, dismissing you right away because they didn’t have any vacant places.

This is how Sunday’s Spirit, even if that’s not your dream job, happened. And quite literally saved your ass.

“I’m sorry.” you say after a while.

Yoongi smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t be. What’s in past, stays in past.” he ends the conversation, drinking the rest of his whiskey.

You find this as a perfect possibility to do what you’ve come here for: get wasted, forget about this prick Park Jimin and his stupid assignment. You turn around on your stool to face the bar again, calling for the red-haired bartender named Hoseok who’s substituting Namjoon right now. You order a round of tequilla shots and quickly pours two of them in one go.

“Easy, tiger,” Taehyung teases, still sipping his pink drink as you wipe your chin with the back of your hand. Taehyung has stated a long time ago that he enjoys only casual drinking, which makes you and you lightweightness snort at him.

“Loser,” you mumble under your breath, deep down knowing you’re oh so much going to regret this after.

You focus your attention on the dancefloor now; technicolor lights glittering as the crowd of sweaty people bounce to old Madonna hits. You feel like your spirit might actually experience new kind of awakening during the chorus in Like a Virgin. You mouth the lyrics, the vodka already half-way to your bopping head. Your drunken self almost asks Taehyung and Yoongi if they would agree to be your backup dancers.

You eyes scan the room carefully and then, you spot him. He’s sitting in the corner, his arms splayed over the backrest of the red couch. A devil himself. A black horseman of the Apocalypse. A man who looks like every girl’s next mistake. Taylor Swift’s ‘we are never ever getting back together’.

A true sin.

Jet-black hair parted in the middle, onyx eyes and lucious smirk written across his lips as he bites them purposefully. He’s wearing a leather jacket and you wonder for a while if you would find inked tattoos on his body. He cocks his head to the side, his eyes glued to the same spot as he waits for something, or rather someone.

“Who’s that?” you ask, not even hiding your curiosity at this point.

Taehyung turns around as well, his eyes glancing to the dark-haired man briefly. “Ah, this, sweetheart, is Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin’s best friend.” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You raise your eyebrows, watching as Jungkook’s face expression immediately changes when waitress approaches him. He says something to her that makes her roll her eyes. She tightens her grip around the tray she’s holding, asking him for his order.

“Don’t worry. You are not the only one thirsting over him. I would let him top me too,” Taehyung whispers to your ear and you flinch.

“I’m not thirsting over him! I came her for drinks, not to get laid, I told you.”

“Okay, okay, loosen up a little. Tequilla makes you aggressive. Besides, it looks like he’s got his pick for tonight.”

Jungkook stretches out his hand and fixes the waitress’ glasses that seem to rode down her nose a little. The girl frozes in place because of his action and he grins, calling her cute.

“He’s trying to ask her out for two months,” Yoongi interrupts suddenly, again. It looks like he has nothing better to do tonight. “I’m serious. He’s here every Friday. Normally, he would have given up after the second time she had rejected him but there’s might be something in this girl that makes his dick hard and his heart soft.”

Jungkook’s eyes girl’s body as she bends to pick up the glasses from other tables and maybe that’s the alcohol swimming in your veins but you could swear his face lights up when she sends him another irritated glare when he calls her name.

“Does Park Jimin comes here often as well?” you ask before you could stop yourself.

Both Taehyung and Yoongi shake their heads.

“I don’t think so. Jeon comes here because he lives nearby in this huge ass apartment complex. His father runs a chemical factory and he works there.” Taehyung explains.

Jeon? Chemical factory? Something clicks in your brain. Right, you know who his father is. The King of Washing Powder. Another rich as fuck Busan’s snob.

“God, I hate him. I fucking hate him. What a prick. Douchebag. Asshole of the century,” The string of profanities leaves poor waitress’ mouth as she walks to the counter with tray in her hands. “How’s your day, love? You look beautiful today, love. Fucking leave me alone, love!” she mutters to herself, taking the beer mugs from Hoseok abruptly which makes the bartender raise his eyebrows in confusion.

“How’s your assignment about Mary Magdalene going on, doll?” Yoongi asks then, startling you.

You roll your eyes at him. “I literally got it today, Yoongi. I haven’t started yet.” you answer, gulping another shot.

On the corner of your eye you see Yoongi’s smirking. “I’m surprised, to be honest. You aren’t the only one who doesn’t pay attention to shit Jimin’s says,” he trails off. “I work for him from the moment he started this ridiculous Bible lunch breaks and I swear, he’s never called out someone like that before.”

“What do you mean he’s never called out someone before?” Taehyung joins in curiously.

“Look, I slept through the majority of these sessions and Jimin knows it, but he has never lecture me about it,” Yoongi remarks. “Maybe you’re an exception. Or he’s become more strict because of this bitch Chin-sun.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. You know Chin-sun has been making heart eyes for Jimin for a long time but what why it might have an influence on his behavior?

“Lee Chin-sun? What the office’s Mary Magdalene has to do with that? Besides the fact that she’s drooling for his dick every time she sees him,” Taehyung snorts.

Yoongi chuckles lowly. “Oh, so you two really know nothing about what’s going on between them right now,”

“What’s going on right now? Spill.” Taehyung says abruptly. You sigh when you see the way his eyes flicker with mischeviousness. One thing Taehyung loves more than photography and fashion is gossiping (and dicks).

“First of all, Chin-sun is a fucking bigot. And well… she might be closer to being miss Park than we thought.” Yoongi muses.

Taehyung eyebrows practically disappear in his hairline. You’re sure you mirror his expression right now.

Yoongi asks Hoseok for another glass of whiskey and continues. “My friend Seokjin’s wife is Jimin’s personal assistant and secretary. She heard this and that, quite juicy things I must say,” he says in a lower tone, like he’s revealing government secrets to them. You lean closer into his direction along with Taehyung. “Chin-sun’s father recently bought the claims to the most popular, conservative TV station in whole South Korea. But, what is more interesting, it looks like Park senior has some shares in it as well.”

You’re astonished. You knew there’s something looming in the air but you didn’t expect this. A TV station? Even your slightly drunken brain can calculate it’s very interesting.

“So the marriage between Chin-sun and Jimin would be pretty convenient for their families, especially after considering the fact that Jimin is the heir.” Yoongi adds, gulping the first sip of his new whiskey.

“Poor Eunwoo,” you whisper to yourself.

“But why so soon? Why do they want to legalize their relationship so suddenly?” Taehyung asks.

Yoongi lets out a heavy sigh. “There’s a rumour going around that Jimin’s father isn’t in good condition right now. Seokjin-hyung mentioned something about the heart disease. So, if that’s really true, you have the answer why he wants his eldest son to settle down already. Everything’s about the money, I told you.”

Taehyung whistles. “Woah, so Mary Magdalene is really about to be CEO Jesus’ wife soon!” he exclaims, clapping his hands. “Brilliant. Finally something spicy is happening in this boring editorial.”

“I wouldn’t be so enthusiastic if I were you, Taehyung. This kind of business never ends well,” Yoongi says coldly, placing his glass on the counter and standing up from the stool. He glances at his watch and throws a few bills next to his empty glass. “I’ll get going. It was nice talking to you, doll.”

“What about me?”

“Shut up, Taehyung, you’re not pretty lady.”

“I feel offended.”

“And I don’t care,” Yoongi mutters. Maybe that was alcohol swimming in her veins but you saw Taehyung lifting the corners of his lips in amusement. Weird. “Good luck on your assignment, doll. See you all on Monday.” Yoongi glances to your way one last time, adjusting his jacket.

“Bye, Yoongi.” you wave to him and a small, even sincere smile appears on his face when he as well raises his hand lazily and leaves. “Why didn’t you tell me he’s actually nice, Tae? I was always too scared to start a conversation with him because I felt intimidated.” you say after a while.

“I’m sorry, should have I set you up for a date with him?” Taehyung mocks.

A groan escapes your lips. “Could you please stop insinuating things?”

“You need to get laid, seriously. Like soon-soon. You get easily irritated recently. You need a d i c k,”

“I don’t need a dick!”

“A cock, Y/N,” Taehyung emphasizes. “A penis in your precious vagina.”

“Shut up!”

Several shots and a few drunken dances to Cindi Lauper and Bon Jovi, you’re pretty much wasted. And maybe, just maybe, you need a dick. And Taehyung, like a dipshit he always is, thinks that’s actually funny.

“Don’t wanna homff,” you slur, supporting your weight on Taehyung’s arm that shakes with laughter at your drunken antics, as well as his whole body. “I wanna danfce witfh somebodyyy,”

“Holy Mother of Jesus, you must be really drunk if you started referring to Whitney Houston’s songs. And you smell like booze,” Taehyung mutters under his breath and you whine, tugging on his arm.

“TaeTae, Taehyungie, pffleasee, can we go back?”

Taehyung ignores your grumbling completely. He exists the bar, walking (or rather dragging) you to the cab. As he tries to push your body to the car, he sees in the corner of his eye Jeon Jungkook, standing in front of his black SUV. The waitress from earlier accompanies him as well. It looks like he’s trying to convince her to let him give her a lift to home. The girl shakes her head at first but eventually gives up, stepping into the car. Jungkook grins to himself then, clenching his fists in gesture of pure triumph.

“I fuckin’ hate Park Jimin and his stfupid newspaper,” you mutter incoherently as you bury your head in the crook of Taehyung’s neck in the back of the cab. Old, korean songs are playing in the radio when you’re driving back home. Taehyung smiles to himself, hearing your light snores. But then, he falters.

Ah, yes, he almost forgot. It is going to be a long way to the third floor of your apartment building.

Next day, you wake up in the middle of noon with raging headache and an abrupt need to throw everything up. Frankly speaking, you had worse hangovers during you university days but it doesn’t change the fact that the state you’re currently in still sucks.

“Oh, good God, what have I thought?” you mutter to yourself while standing in the shower, letting the water cool you down.

Truth to be told, a drinking escapade when you have a whole ass paper to write in two days wasn’t the smartest idea you could come up with. You know that for sure, when you’re sitting down in front of your laptop with prescription glasses on your face and a cup of tea in your hand.

There’s a blank document opened on the screen, with only your name written in the corner and the title in the middle. You feel pathetic and useless, staring at it for 30 minutes straight. If you keep sitting like this, you might actually call Park Jimin right now and beg him not to fire you due to your incompetence.

“Get your shit together, Y/N.” you say to yourself, clenching your fists.

At first you fought about making some mind-map, outlining the most important parts of your essay, as you always used to do when you were studying. But there’s a huge difference between what you’re working on right now and what you usually did during academic days. Above all, at that time you were writing about things you had more knowledge about, not about Mary Magdalene and her role in Jesus Christ’s life.

“Ah, fuck it.”

You open an online Bible page and quickly type ‘Mary Magdalene’ in browser. All fragments when she’s mentioned shows up in front of your eyes. You fix your glasses and before you could stop yourself, you whisper, “Let’s get it.”

You don’t know how much time has passed since you started reading, but when you glance a the clock it’s nearly 7pm.

You went through every single page in the Bible when Mary Magdalene appears or when for some reason her name comes up in conversations. You read two thesis in which you found quite interesting facts about the heroine of your work. Also, you watched some conspiracy theories on YouTube about her, in which people claim that she was actually Jesus’ wife. You were bewildered, even in your post-hangover state.

And after all of this researching, you have settled a plan. You’re a journalist for God’s sake, you’ve been writing your entire life and none assignment will break you. So you start typing on the keyboard, filling the blank document pages with words, hoping that Park Jimin will approve your efforts.

On Sunday, you look like a ghost.

You’re a mess, cured from hangover but still in bad shape, especially after spending the whole night writing in front of your laptop. There are bangs under your eyes and you hair looks like you could cosplay a scarecrow. Your eyes are sore from staring to the screen for so long and you feel like you might collapse anytime if you won’t drink coffee in five minutes.

In between writing next paragraphs, you answer a call from Taehyung.

“How’s your assignment going, sweetheart?”

You let out a long, exhausted sigh. “It’s fine, I guess.” you respond to him.

“That’s lovely! I knew you would slay this, babe,” you hear him saying.

“I’m not done yet, Tae. I still have like a half to write,” you mumble and then let out a yawn, closing your eyes for a brief second before you speak again. “I would love to talk to you more but I really need to get this shit done as soon as I can, so I could have some decent sleep before Monday. I don’t want to look like an old witch when I hand in the paper to Park Jimin.”

“I know, I know. You got this, sweetheart. I’m sure you will make Mister Prude’s dick hard because of this.” Taehyung assures you.

You crack a tired smile even though you know he doesn’t see you. “Thank you, Tae.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” he says and hangs up.

You take another gulp of your coffee and start writing again.

It’s a little past midnight when you’re, with your last amounts of force you posses, typing the last words of the paper. As you look at your laptop screen, eyelids half-closed, you dream about nothing but going to sleep.

You did that. You really did. You wrote this stupid paper for Park Jimin and you’re actually proud of it. You carefully save the document three times (to be hundred percent sure) and as soon as you close your laptop, you pass out.

Little did you know what is waiting for you in editorial in a few hours.

You stare at your reflection in small mirror you hold, thanking God that he has enlightened the person who discovered make-up. You won’t say you look stunning but, after five hours of sleep you had in last two days, you would risk it all and say you appear much more than decent looking. You’re wearing your new black jumpsuit that makes your legs look longer and you even used a different shade of lipstick, painting your lips in crimson red.

And all of this for nothing, because when you stormed into the Sunday’s Spirit editorial to give the paper straight to Park Jimin’s hands, his secretary with polite smile said he’s coming to work later today.

You pursued your lips and handed the woman your blood, sweat and tears (you’re actually sure a few tears rolled down from your face on the keyboard while you were writing it), wishing you saw your boss’ face when you place the printed pages on his expensive desk.

“I changed a little bit the topic of my work while I was outlining it,” you tell Taehyung as you both sit together by your desks later that day. “I focused more on a role of Mary Magdalene character in world ruled only by men. I showed how a powerful woman she was, standing at Jesus’s side even though the church for the centuries referred her to whore,” you explain.

“Wow,” Taehyung muses. “You turned Mary Magdalene into feminism icon fighting against patriarchy.”

“It’s not like that!” You hit him in the arm. “You may laugh as much as you want but I actually got into her story.”

Taehyung smirks. “Looks like being scolded by Park Jimin wasn’t that bad.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up. I got humiliated in the middle of fucking cafeteria. I still hate him. And also, I don’t know what he thinks about my essay.” you say with a sigh.

“Don’t worry. He’s probably having an epiphany right now while-”

A voice from the speakers that certainly doesn’t sound like gospel choir interrupts him.

“Miss Y/N, please report to the Park Jimin’s office immadietly.”

“-or he isn’t.” Taehyung ends.

Once again, you’re frozen in place. It’s okay, you tell yourself, maybe he just wants to talk about my essay. But what if he didn’t like it? What if your sudden feminism outburst about Mary Magdalene was too much?

“Holy fuck.” you blurt out quietly.

Taehyung gives you an encouraging smile but he doesn’t look much convinced in positive intentions of summoning you to their boss’ office, he just doesn’t say it aloud. “Well, maybe it won’t be that bad! Maybe he wants to congratulate you,” he tries to comfort you, without success. You look horribly pale and scared to death.

“I repeat: miss Y/N, please report to the Park Jimin’s office immadietly.” Jimin’s stone cold voice pierce through the silence again. You shiver. The journalists in the editorial send you impatient glares.

“Whatever happens, remember that I love you.” Taehyung whispers, squizzing your hand, which makes you even more nervous. He gives you thumbs-up and you take a deep breath, trying to calm your trembling body. A whole Sunday’s Spirit team follow your movements with their eyes.

You stands from your desk on wobbly legs and walk to the door with golden sign hanging on its surface.

Park Jimin

Editor-in-chief

You take the knob in your shaking palm and twist, stepping into the lion’s den.

The atmosphere seems to shift when you walk into the room. You could hear your heart rapidly beating through the dead silence that lingers in Park Jimin’s office. “You wanted to see me, sir?” you ask after closing the door, subconsciously cursing yourself for sounding so weak already.

“Yes, have a seat,” Jimin says. “Give me a second. I need to finish something.” he adds when you sit down, not even bothering to spare you a look.

Jimin sits behind his desk, eyes glued to the computer screen. His hair is pushed back from his forehead, his jaw clenched. Oh, great, he looks pissed, you think to yourself.

He isn’t wearing his suit jacket like usually, which surprises you. His white shirt’s sleeves are rolled up, revealing a glimpse of veiny hands and his Rolex. This is the first time you see him like this. He looks so… unlike him.

Strange.

You use the time you have to take in your surroundings. Jimin’s office is painted in fair tone of grey. The rumors were actually right, there’s a smaller version of Michelangelo’s Pietà standing proudly on of the drawers. Behind the desk, on the wall, hangs a wooden cross with gold-plated figurine of Jesus Christ, and just underneath it there’s a framed picture of Lady of Fatima, which he once proudly showed to the whole editorial team on one of the lunchbreaks, saying his grandmother brought him this from her pilgrimage.

You focus your attention now on the wall filled with numerous diplomas and certificates, all of them signed with Park Jimin’s name.

You had read some of his works before you started your job in Sunday’s Spirit and you must admit: Park Jimin is a talented, smart journalist you aspire to be one day. It’s actually sad, you think, that he can’t pursue his career, wasting his abilities by working in catholic newspaper owned by his father. And as you know from Yoongi, his situation isn’t going to change soon. Maybe he was right after all. Money really does rule this world.

After a few minutes that seems to last forever, Jimin breaks the silence. “Do you know why are you here?” he asks, finally averting his attention to you. He stares so deeply into your eyes that you feel you might faint from the intensity of his aura.

You clear your throat, and then respond. “I do believe it’s about my paper I handed in to you this morning.”

Jimin raises his eyebrow at that. “Your paper? No, everything’s fine about it. I read it and I must say, you did a great job,” he says and you furrow your eyebrows. So if nothing’s is wrong with your essay then what does he want?

“Then… why did you call me in, sir?” you hesitantly ponder.

Jimin laces his fingers together and leans closer over the desk. “Well,” he begins, “Maybe you forgot or you really didn’t know about it, but I used to run the same column as you do now,” You nod your head, recalling what Taehyung told you recently. Jimin continues, “I was actually the one who created it. That means I am still, for this day, its administrator. Which leads to another conclusion: every single ask that is send to our editorial and your responses to them can be monitored by me.” he explains, gauging your reaction. You still don’t have an idea why is he telling you that, so you just sit still and wait.

Then, Jimin reaches for the paper that lays on the left side of his desk and hands it to you. “Could you please tell me what is this?” he asks, pointing at the paper.

You glance at it briefly. “These are the questions I got last week and my responses to them.” you reply straightaway.

Park Jimin doesn’t seem much satisfied after hearing your words. He then takes another paper and gives it to you as well. “And this particular one, Y/N? Could you please read it and tell me what is this?”

Ignoring his forego of ‘miss’, you take it to your hands and start reading.

Dear Sunday’s Spirit editorial,

My name is Kang Seoyeon. I study medicine at the University of Seoul, I’ve got an amazing group of friends and a loving boyf-

You gasp and immadietly put a palm over your mouth. Under Seoyeon’s ask there’s also, clear as day, your much inappropriate response to her. In which you persuade the girl to suck her boyfriend off.

Holy fuck. Jesus Christ. Shitshitshit!

Jimin said he monitors everything that people send to the editorial along with the responds. Of course he had to read it. Why have you been so dumb? How could you believe that simple deleting from your inbox would be enough? Why can’t you do something properly for once?

You gulp, trying not to cry because good God, he’s going to fire you. He will kick you out and write a bunch of negative letters to your future employees, in which he will explain in details how disobiedent, reckless of a worker you are.

“Did you also forget how to speak?” Jimin asks. You almost cry out right away from the coldness of his voice.

You muster up a courage and look at him, and that’s a huge mistake because as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re lost for words.”I-I don’t know what to say, sir,” you stammer out. “I have nothing for my defence. I can only apologize for my irresponsible and inappropriate behavior I exhibited.” you say, bowing your head down.

Jimin pursues his lips. He stands from his chair and walks to you, leaning his body on the desk. He takes the paper from you to his hands and starts reading. “If you want to fuck your boyfriend, do it. Maybe God wouldn’t approve that but don’t worry, he won’t send you to hell because of some dick in your pussy,“ he quotes your response to the girl and your cheeks flush in red; you wish nothing more than to disappear and never see your boss again. But he’s relentless and continues reading, spilling the crude words, humiliating you even more. “So you go girl, suck your boyfriend off. Make him beg. He will never leave you after this.“ Jimin chuckles to himself darkly and you shut your eyes. “Look at me when you are spoken to,” he demands. You quickly oblige, lifting your chin a little to meet his intense gaze. “Is that really how a good, catholic girl should act?” he asks in a mocking tone.

You shake your head. “No, it isn’t.”

Jimin clicks his tongue. “Do you think he really won’t leave her after this?” he asks out of the blue.

You furrow your eyebrows. What kind of twisted game is he playing now? “I don’t know, sir.” you answer honestly.

Jimin smirks. Devilishly, sultry and completely illegal. He then licks his lips and leans closer to you. You could swear his eyes are darken than before. Something has shifted in his demeanor; he looks daring. “Why don’t you show me then, how this poor girl should suck her boyfriend off, Y/N?” he whispers lowly.

Your eyes widen. Did he just-?

He didn’t. He can’t. Maybe you misheard him, maybe you started imagining things that aren’t real. Oh, sweet Lord, the look of absolute seriousness written on his face tells you very much different.

Park Jimin, your boss, the man who goes regularly on masses and reads Bible, wants you to give him a head. In his office.

May the God help you.

You should probably slap him in the face for his immoral proposition. You should save your dignity, leave and never come back again. But then, you clear your mind from all those twisted thoughts running through it and you realise that you’re walking on a very thin line. Line which is called unemployment and bankruptcy.

You think about your landlord who praised you recently for keeping up with rent every month regularly. You think about your student loans that you still need to pay.

And fuck, you hate Yoongi because he was damn right. Money wouldn’t buy you happiness, but it can provide you that.

That’s why you put away the humiliation, the what ifs. You shut your mind screaming at you and listing the future consequences. Maybe Jimin just tests you, but the way he looks at you denies it. He wants to see you on your knees in front of him. Perhaps he only wants to play before he fires you but you put that thought aside.

You at least need to try.

Jimin searches for any kind of protest in your eyes and when he doesn’t find it, he’s back to his domineering self. “What are you waiting for?” he asks, his voice an octave lower. “Get on your knees.”

He has a calm expression on his face and you wonder for a moment how many times has he been in similar situation before. Having a woman on his mercy and using her the way he likes. And now you know. All those stories you heard about, are actually true. Park Jimin isn’t a prude. He’s dirty.

You fall to the floor with a light whimper. Maybe it’s the last chance for you to leave, but the confidence that emanates from Jimin doesn’t falter your movements. You hate yourself for that but God, you want to see this man being a mess for your touch. Even if that’s fucked up.

And it’s wrong, so, so wrong, when there’s a cross hanging behind you, when he’s your boss who claims to be a good catholic, when you do that because you’re too afraid to lose your job. But in that moment, the morality doesn’t exist.

Jimin stands up to take his belt off, looking at you from the above as he slowly, purposefully pulls it from the belt loops. He doesn’t encourage you or say anything, he just waits. You gulp when he yanks his black slacks down, along with his underwear.

For a few, solid seconds, you just stare.

You aren’t a connoisseur of dicks. Dick is a dick, but Park Jimin’s length is just as perfect as the rest of him, semi-hard against his lower stomach. Your hands move to his sculpted thighs, running up and down, tracing the prominent lines of his toned abdomen. The muscles tense underneath your touch.

You don’t remember when was the last time you’ve gone down on someone. Maybe it was Taehyung few months ago when you were both too drunk to care? You can’t quite recall. Every move of yours is uncertain, but Jimin doesn’t mind. Maybe your uncertainty turns him on even more.

He watches as you take him in your palm hesitantly, hot and already stiff, stroking him several times until he hardens in your hand. The sight is purely erotic, filthy, and you lick your lips before placing a light kiss on his tip. Jimin hisses. That’s a warning. No teasing.

You pump him, trailing a thumb over his slit, spreading precum all over his cock. Jimin doesn’t say anything but from the shuddering breath he lets out you assume he likes it. You take a deep breath, wrapping your lips around his dick and swirling your tongue around the head.

Jimin groans, a guttural sound resonating through his whole body and you take it as a sign to continue. You ease more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head up and down around his length obediently. Some twisted and fucked-up part of you wants him to praise you, call you good girl with your lips around his dick and throbbing core. He does none of that. His hands tangle in your hair as he withdraws, and you know exactly what’s coming next.

It’s an unspoken question on his lips and your jaw falls slacks on command.

A forceful push of his hips and he’s burried deep inside your mouth till he hits the back of your throat. Tears brim in your eyes and you gag, breathing heavily through your nose. It hurts a little, a dull ache but the content sigh and fucked-out expression on Jimin’s face is worth it. So you let him fuck your mouth the way he wants, let him pull your hair harder, wreck you a little more. It’s so easy to submit to him, to let him overwhelm you in every sense possible.

Your eyes fall shut and Jimin stops his movements, pulling from your mouth. Drool dribbles down your chin and you wipe it with the back of your hand. Jimin lets out a shaky breath, staring down at you so intensely it makes your insides tighten, even if you don’t see him yet.

“Look at me,” he rasps and you do, how could you not. The sight of your boss’ flushed cheeks and sweat forming on his forehead will be imprinted in your mind forever.

You curse yourself for wanting him to fuck you senseless right against his deck, with a hand around your throat muffling your screams, fuck you so hard you won’t remember your name anymore, no matter how wrong it is.

“Good girl. You’re so pretty like this, letting me fuck your mouth,” Jimin nothing but purrs, filling you to the brim again, until there are tears forming in your eyes and running down your cheeks, until he hits the base of your throat again and again and you fight back choked gags every time. “Just like that, fuck-” he moans, lowly and beautifully, head thrown back and mouth parted.

He’s close, you could feel that, so you take him deep once again and when your throat tightens around him one last time, he lets out a gutural groan and comes. You swallow every drop of his bitter release and when he pulls out from your mouth, you nearly fall forward.

Jimin catches you, placing his hands on your shoulders, balancing your exhausted body. You look at him through your half-lidded eyes. He looks so young now, so innocent, his cold demeanor’s gone and replaced by pure bliss written on his face. For Park Jimin, cheeks rosy, disheveled hair and loosen tie, you would do it all over again.

He then does something unexpected. He reaches for your face, brushing your tangled hair away and placing the strands behind your ears. This is a loving gesture, something exclusive he definitely shouldn’t be doing. You’re frozen, you can’t move a muscle while he wipes your cheeks from the reminiscences of your tears. He trails his thumb over your swollen lips absentmindedly, faltering there. For a moment he looks like he might say something, but he quickly shuts his mouth, regaining his previous posture.

You take this as a sign to leave. You get up from the floor, your knees sore from the uncomfortable position you’ve been in. You walk to the mirror that hangs on the wall of Jimin’s office. You sigh, seeing your current state. There’s no way someone would believe you that you haven’t just sucked a dick.

Your cheeks are flushed in pink, there are smudges of mascara under your eyes and your lipstick is smeared in the corners of your mouth. Not to mention your hair is still a mess.

You are painted in all shades of wrong.

In the reflection of the mirror you see Jimin buckling up his belt and straightening his tie. He runs a hand through his blond locks and looks up, catching you staring at him. You quickly look away.

“Don’t worry. No one will notice anything. Everyone should be off for their lunchbreaks by now.” he says. He sounds so pathetically normal, yet there’s still a slight rasp in his voice.

You glance at the watch on your hand and check the time. It’s a little past 12. You brush your hair with your fingers quickly and proceed to leave, but you stop, remembering you have to ask about one last thing. You turn around to face him.

“Are you going to write a bad opinion about me to my future employees?” you ask, flinching at the hoarseness of your voice.

Jimin raises his eyebrows. “Bad opinion? No, absolutely not,” he answers, shaking his head. “I was never going to fire you in first place.”

You fight back the shocked expression that threatens to appear on your face. You quickly rush to leave this damn office and never look in his eyes ever again. What were you even thinking?

“And Y/N,” Jimin’s voice makes you stop with your hand hovering over the door knob. Single tear rolls down your cheek and you gulp. “I’m sorry.” it’s all he says.

You don’t ask him what he meant by that. You don’t deliberate if he was sincere or not. You leave the office as soon as you can, running to the nearest bathroom, closing the door behind you and leaning on it.

He wasn’t going to fire you. He just wanted to use you, demand to get down on your knees and please him the way he wants. It was all a game for him, and you became his plaything.

“I’m so stupid,” you mutter to yourself, burying your head in your hands. “God, I’m so stupid.”

You feel sick, used, but at the same time you can’t get away with creeping feeling that you enjoyed it, wishing he wanted you just as much as you wanted him in that moment.

You sigh, closing your eyes. You’re probably foolish for thinking it won’t have any consequences. You’re just about to face them.

The coldness of early Spring hits you when you exit Sunday’s Spirit editorial. You hug your body tighter with your coat, standing in front of the building awkwardly. You take a few deep breaths, trying to clear your mind, but nothing really works. There’s a vacant space inside your body, like your soul has drifted away and left nothing but emptiness.

You feel hollow.

You don’t know how long have you been standing there, inhaling fresh air and waiting for your blood to start circulating properly in your veins again. When you’re about to head to the underground station, on the corner of your eye you see Jimin’s black Mercedes. You probably shouldn’t stare but you helplessly do.

Probably if you didn’t, it would hurt less.

He approaches the car, looking perfectly fine as always, which you couldn’t say about yourself. And he isn’t alone.

You recognize dark curls of Chins-sun’s hair, contrasting her beige coat beautifully. The corners of Jimin’s lips lift when he sees her. You don’t know if it’s a honest smile or a forced one. You wonder for a while how does he look like when he’s truly happy. Maybe he’s happy now, when Chin-sun is by his side.

What you are really sure about Park Jimin, is that he’s a man of many maybes.

Something which definitely doesn’t look forced are his palms, cupping the cheeks of Chin-sun’s flushed face. He starts tracing circles on her skin in intimate gesture and murmurs something. Maybe he asks her how was her day. Your lips still tingle where he trailed his thumb over it bitten, swollen surface. Maybe he still remembers how they felt around his cock when he was relentlessly bringing tears to your eyes and stabs to your heart.

The way he leans and kisses Chin-sun’s cherry colored lips is purposeful, perfectly measured. Maybe he sighs into her mouth with content, a beautiful sound you have witnessed with your own ears, as you were working him to his climax. Jimin’s hands grip Chin-sun’s dark locks but it isn’t the similar manner he did to you earlier, as he laced his fingers through the strands, when you wished him to do nothing more than pull harder and harder, until the pain in you scalp was replaced by dull ache, until a whimper fell from your lips and eyes squeezed shut. He kisses Chin-sun lovingly and there’s no roughness in that. It’s gentle caresses and soft murmurs.

After a moment he breaks off, soothing his palms over Chin-sun’s shoulders. She sends him a smile and opens the passenger’s door, getting into the car. And then, when you swallow a lump in your throat, when you decide to turn around and go, run as fast as you possibly can, when you dream about nothing more but never seeing him again, you catch eyes with him.

Jimin looks pathetically apologetic. There’s something in his dark brown orbs you can’t read. Maybe it’s guilt, maybe regret. Park Jimin is a man of many maybes, yet he stares at you with expression you could only mistaken for sadness.

You wonder if he sees the way your eyes stare at him blankly. You wonder if he knows how he nearly wrecked your body and made you feel things you shouldn’t. If he hurts the same way as you do now. However, Jimin quickly diverts his head away from you, closing the door to his car behind him as well. You laugh quietly at the ridiculousness of this situation. A bitter laugh that escapes your mouth and deepen the hollowness inside you.

A hand touches your arm and you don’t even flinch, knowing already who it is.

“So you know the news,” Taehyung says, looking at Jimin’s car leaving the parking lot. How long has he been standing behind you?

“What news?” you ask, turning your head to look at him.

“Chin-sun is really going to be miss Park officially,” he replies. “Jimin proposed to her this weekend. The wedding is in may. But that’s not important right now. How’s your conversation with him, sweetheart?”

You feel sick. You excuse yourself, mentioning something about needing to catch earlier train and texting him later. Taehyung calls after you but you don’t listen. You start running.

You run until you couldn’t breathe, until there’s a soreness in your throat from the coldness of air. You run until you reach your apartment, stumbling into it on wobbly legs. Your back touches the wall and you slide off, sitting on the floor.

You don’t cry. The tears don’t strain your eyes. It’s only this damned, dull hollowness.

There’s written in the Bible that a guilty person is the one who broke God’s law, who committed a sin. The said person will be judged by their actions after their death. Because every human being has a conscience, the thing that sets the line between good and bad, so when we did something wrong, we should feel remorse.

When you sit on the floor and stare blankly in front of yourself, you know you have sinned.You both did. You wonder if he, trailing patterns of tender touches on his fiancee’s skin, feels the same as you. You wonder if guilt eats him up as much as devours you. Maybe there’s hollow ache in his chest, just like in yours. Maybe he doesn’t feel anything.

And may the God help you both find your redemption.

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swtltlmrvlgrl · 5 years ago

Text

Is it Real? (Part 5)

Summary: Bestfriend AU. This chapter will deal on what Tom did to Y/N and why Y/N is affected on Tom’s return. This will also deal with the dynamics of Steve and Y/N’s friendship.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Warning/s: This chapter is going to be angsty. There will be implicit descriptions of panic attacks.

A/N: Y/N = Your Name. Enjoy reading! I don’t proofread so I apologize in advanced for any misspelling other awkward grammar here. If you know beta readers out there, I think I might need one now. Heh. I don’t know the whole beta reading process so please teach me too.

Number of Words: 1,959

Part 1 - Part 2- Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

5 YEARS AGO

Steve was on the process of fixing the drain of your kitchen faucet when he lifted his head to look at you in response to your statement. “You’re going to work at a university?” He then slowly pushed himself up from the ground to check if you weren’t joking.

“Yep.” you responded nonchalantly while typing on your laptop.

“I thought you wanted to work at the daycare?” Steve moved closer towards you.

“Yeah, but Tom told me that being a daycare teacher is too mediocre. There are more opportunities for career development if I work in University.” You looked at Steve and stretched. “Plus, we can work at the same school too.”

Steve reached for your laptop and closed it.

“What the - ?!” You stopped and looked at Steve, whose eyes were glaring at you.

“You should stop this.”

“Stop what? I’m just finishing my application form, I have to pass this tomorrow.”

“Why are you letting him dictate your life?” Steve’s voice wasn’t loud, but it sounded frustrated with a little touch of disappointment.

“Steve. I love Tom.” you answered plainly.

You stood up and went to the sofa. You assumed hat you answer was enough for the discussion to end. You grabbed the remote control and attempted to turn on the TV, but Steve got in the way and stood right in front of you.

Agitated, you put down the remote control. “Can’t you just support me?” your voice came out louder than you wanted it to be. But Steve got on your nerves and you’re kind of hoping that your louder voice would stop Steve from nagging you (It only made the situation worse).

“Support you?” His voice was a little strained, yes, but he was CLEARLY angry. “First, he stopped you from eating pizza, and ‘encouraged’ you to eat salad instead.” Steve started walking around. “Then, he stops you from wearing jeans, because, I quote, ‘dresses and skirts looks better on you’. Every single thing you’ve been doing, he’s ‘trying to improve’.” Steve stopped and looked at you. “He’s trying to control your life!”

“Better opportunity? Career development? Mediocre?! What happened to wanting to make children happy Y/N? What happened to making the children smile even for a short while? What happened to protecting the children/s dreams? Are you throwing them them all way for someone you just met 8 months ago? This isn’t you Y/N!”

“Then who am I Steve? If this isn’t me, then who am I?!” The heat in your body started to rise and you feel your stomach churning. The words that you heard from Steve were aggravating. For you, Steve clearly crossed the line.

“That’s the point Y/N!” Steve responded, equally agitated. “You don’t just go around and let other people define who you are!”

“You know what?” You walked towards Steve. “Maybe it’s time that you,” you pointed your finger on Steve’s chest, “Stop pretending like you know me, and start accepting that I am not the person that you think I am!”

It felt like time has stopped. Steve fell silent, but you can faintly hear his deep breaths as you gaze upon his clenched fists. It might’ve been a minute but it felt like a full hour to you.

“Fifteen years.” Steve sighed. “We’ve been friends for 15 years. You have flaws and annoying habits and I know them more than anyone else. You’re not perfect and I don’t think that you should be. If you could just...see yourself the same way that I see you.”

Steve’s voice was softer, sadder. “You have this light that I – and I … I can’t just let some guy dim that light.” If you listened closely you could hear his voice shaking.

The distance between you and Steve became bigger. Every step that Steve took, felt like knives stabbing in your chest. But I love Tom, you thought. If I can’t fight for Tom now, then I can’t fight for him at all. But you stood your ground. Despite the excruciating pain that the distance gave you, you didn’t even attempt to look at Steve as he slowly opened the door.

“ ‘Who am I?’ you asked me. I can’t answer that.” He continued. “But I know that you’re not happy and I’m not going to just shut up and accept that.”

He left.

The absence of Steve made the room seem bigger. You tightly grip your chest as a poor attempt to put together the broken pieces of your heart. Tears start to flow through your cheeks.

You wipe your tears and tried to relax. Breathe in. Breathe out.

“This is probably the best for us.” you muttered. You try to convince yourself that this is just something that the two of you had to go through.

You shifted your focus to your dinner date with Tom and decided to prepare for the night. You laid the red dress on your bed and you lined up the necessary skin care and make-up and then took a long shower.

---

You were waiting for the Uber when you saw Steve cross the street from your grocery. He momentarily met your eyes but he immediately looked away. You reciprocated the gesture and looked away too. Steve walked past you and it didn’t feel right. Ignoring Steve didn’t feel right. You impulsively turned towards his direction and reached out for his hand but you were stopped by the sound of a car horn. Your Uber driver had arrived.

The traffic wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be, you arrived at the restaurant five minutes before 6:00PM. You sat down and messaged Tom to let him know that you’re already in the venue. His lack of immediate response was a little off character for him – he usually answers promptly. Maybe he’s busy, you thought.

At this point, you’re trying just trying to convince yourself that Tom is busy and something urgent must’ve come up. He hasn’t been responded to you for more than thirty minutes and it’s making you anxious. You tried calling Dot and Nat too, they didn’t know where Tom was. He didn’t answer to their calls too.

You were in the middle of dialing Tom’s number when a waiter (or maybe the manager) approached you.

“Excuse me. Ma’am Y/N L/N?” He inquired.

“Yes?” You answered.

“Someone dropped by earlier and told us that if we see someone in red dress with the name of Y/N L/N.” He handed over a neatly folded piece of paper. “We should give this letter 30 minutes after 6:00PM.”

“He also paid for the food in advance so If you want, we can serve it to you now.”

Dumbfounded. That’s how you would explain your feelings as you take the letter from the waiter’s hands. “I’ll call you when I need anything.” You told the waiter.

“Okay. Ma’am. Just call me when you’re ready.”

Everything didn’t make any sense. You held on the paper as tightly as you can with the hopes that it will explain everything that’s happening. With your shaking hands, you slowly unfolded the piece of paper.

I can’t do this anymore.

-Tom

What?

To say that you were surprised was an understatement. It felt like the world stopped spinning. Breathing became more difficult. You tried to comprehend what just happened, but you were overwhelmed with too much emotions that you’re mind just turned blank. With all the strength that you have left, you stood up and leave the restaurant.

Despite walking in a busy street, you couldn’t hear anything. You couldn’t feel anything. You didn’t even realize that it started raining. You’ walked aimlessly - through the crowd, the rain, through the pain – desperately trying to escape.

Did I do something wrong? Did I say something wrong?

You try to breathe properly, but you can’t. You tried to look around for Tom. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding? Maybe –

Then, you started to run. You fall down a couple of times but you still ran. You’re angry. You’re frustrated. You didn’t know what to do.

Am I not good enough?

You stopped in front of your apartment building, where Steve saw you soaked and barefooted.

Steve dropped everything that he was carrying and ran towards you. He was holding his umbrella on top of your head with one hand, and desperately trying to take off his jacket with the other. He guided you inside the apartment and covered you with his jacket.

The whistling of the kettle enabled you to come to your senses. Steve placed a cup of tea in front of you. Beside the cup of tea, you noticed a change of clothes which you took and brought with you to the bathroom. Steve’s clothes were big, but it was comfortable. It wasn’t as restricting as the dress that you wore earlier, it made you feel more relaxed, more…

Free.

With your hands on your chest, you tried to breathe and pull yourself together. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

One emotion at a time. You tell yourself. Y/N, process one emotion at a time.

The first thing that you learned to do when faced with an overwhelming amount of emotions, is to acknowledge the things that you can’t and can control.

The reason why you’re confused is because you didn’t know what Tom meant. But you can’t control Tom’s emotions. No matter how hard you try to understand him, all of it will just be assumptions. These assumptions will only lead to an endless spiral of overthinking You’ve been through that spiral before and you didn’t want to go back.

You take a deep breathe again as you focus your thoughts on what you can control right now – acknowledging your pain. You’re in pain and that’s acceptable. You love Tom, and being left just like that should painful.

I am in pain, and that’s okay.

Inhale.

Exhale.

It’s okay.

Your breathing became less erratic. With your heart beating steadily, you stand up. You open the door of the bathroom and as you step outside the door. You see the image of Steve laying his bed cushion on the carpeted floor beside the sofa, He placed one pillow and a blanket on the sofa.

A tear fell down from your eye and you ran towards Steve as fast as you can. You embraced him as tightly as you can.

Tom needed five words to break you.

Steve doesn’t need words to comfort you.

It took a while before you broke the silence. “I forgot my umbrella.” was the first thing you told Steve.

Steve chuckled and caressed your wet hair. “You forgot your shoes too?”

With your head resting on his chest, you nodded.

“You should’ve called me, you know.” Steve remarked.

“But you were angry at me!” You retorted.

“I’m angry Y/N, not heartless.”

Steve stopped caressing your head, and patted it two times. “Drink your tea before it gets cold.”He broke free from your embrace. “It’s your favorite. Chamomile.”

You made your way to the kitchen and Steve sat down on the sofa skimming through the channels on the television. The aroma of the tea as it entered your mouth made you feel more calm. You take another deep breath.

I’m in pain. You repeated. And that’s okay.

I’m not alone.

You never really talked about the incident in detail with Steve. You didn’t have too. Occasionally, he and Bucky would ask what happened to Tom, who suddenly stopped coming to your apartment. You would smile at them and answer, “He got away.”

Five years had passed and everything that happened, are just memories of the past. That’s what you thought, until one day, you received a call from Nat.

“Tom’s coming back.”

Part 6

A/N: I’m so happy I updated this probably a week after uploading the previous part! WIth that, I’m so proud. *pats myself on the back* The next chapter will probably take longer since I had to do other stuff, but I’ll try to upload it as soon as I can!

FEEDBACKS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED! If you have anything to say about the story, any reactions whatsoever, feel free to comment here or message me! Thank you :D

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers x you #steve rogers self #steve rogers series #marvel imagine #steve rogers au #steve rogers bestfriend au #mcu imagine #marvel fanfic #is it real?#swtltlmrvlgrl

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greatestdecoy · 5 years ago

Note

give me hinata unpopular opinions idk wtf it says im anonymous im legit signed in. im so confused help

sorry you’re on your own there but i can try and give some unpopular opinions. i don’t interact much with fandom though so i don’t actually know any unpopular opinions HAHA but from what i’ve noticed reading fic...i can give this nods

i don’t think he cared for being the ace anymore after his first year. well - scratch that. i don’t think his goal / focus was on being the ace anymore after his first year. we already get to see that he has his sights set on rio when he becomes a second year because he wants to get better at everything in volleyball. he grew out of his selfishness a lot regarding positions and play style because of his 1st year karasuno team, and learned that there’s a lot more to love about volleyball than just being the ‘ace’. i think he really grew up after his first year, and it shows in the flashbacks and in the 1st years as 3rd years art, where shoyo is seen teaching the new 1st years how to receive. he fell in love with all parts of volleyball. he didn’t feel the need to be what is considered the strongest player on the team because he found satisfaction in more than just that, and didn’t feel the need to prove himself in the desperate, selfish way that he did in his first year.

he wouldn’t date anyone on his team. he wouldn’t date anyone really, especially not during his time at karasuno. i just don’t see shoyo as the kind of person who’s interested in romantic relationships, especially when he’s a teenager. he has a single track mind and the only thing on it is volleyball. considering he knows he has so much to improve on and learn, and that he wants to constantly be better and better and win more and more, to the point where he spends practically all of his time in the gym practicing and adjusting his lifestyle to be able to play volleyball? relationships are the last thing on his mind. he doesn’t have the time or the brainpower for that. i really don’t think he’d ever date anyone on his team either because that would just be ... incredibly weird for him, i think.

not a fan of the ‘hinata shoyo is sunshine’ trope...or the whole ‘everyone loves hinata’ opinion. i mean, sunshine is a cute word and all, and i know it’s a positive tag, but the fanon interpretations and stereotypes attached to that trope is ... lacking. i feel like it pits shoyo in this box of how he should be portrayed or pushes certain traits of his to the extreme - naivety, ‘cuteness’, etc - that he becomes incredibly one - dimensional. and then there’s the fact that all of the characters around him also become warped and unrecognizable because their personalities are changed to be ‘in love’ with shoyo and they do a lot of out of character things ... it’s just very 😬. not to mention the fact that they make him so cutesy-wutesy and this ‘adorable sunflower’ who never gets mad ... when he can have a very short temper and his personality is not very cute at all. he’s upbeat and loud and charismatic yes, but he can also be incredibly annoying and stubborn, blunt and jealous.

he’s not a total ditz / he isn’t a withering flower. i feel like a lot of people portray shoyo as this complete coward, and he was definitely easily intimidated in his first year - and i feel like he’s somewhat intimidated even in rio, given his reactions to people sometimes - but people play that up to the extreme and make it so that he has no backbone whatsoever, for anything. which ... is not the case. even when he was intimidated or scared in his first year by bigger, ‘scarier’ players - oikawa, aone, ushijima - and would cower behind tanaka or someone else, he’d still try and verbally ‘puff his chest out’ so to speak and ask if they wanted to fight, LOL. that, or directly and purposefully stand up to them and hold his ground - like with ushijima at shiratorizawa. not to mention the scene with terushima and kiyoko, where even when shoyo was incredibly intimidated and nervous at the thought of stepping in or facing off against a bunch of tall players on the opposing team, he still did it. got right in between them and kiyoko. he can stand up for himself and he knows how to and isn’t afraid to. he doesn’t mince his words either and isn’t this super gentle, ‘it’ll be okay’ guy with his words ... he isn’t rude or mean but he’s not one to lie or to say pretty words to make people feel better. he’ll help his friends but he’ll be very honest in doing so -- how he helped yachi is a very good indication of this, and his conversation with yamaguchi about tsukishima during the training camp too.

HE CAN BE MATURE!!! this one really gets me ...... it’s like all i see shoyo as is this happy-go-lucky, silly, dumb kid who never grew up and can’t take a hint to save his life, or doesn’t know how to function as an adult and needs all the help he can get. even when he was in high school he clearly knew when it was time to be serious and to have serious conversations with people - when he needed to be mature and not goof off. he’s very socially aware and adept, and very emotionally mature. just because he can act like a kid as far as joking around, being silly and such, doesn’t mean he’s actually a kid ... people really write him like’s he’s five years old or something. :/ he can give advice, he can own up to his faults, he can have adult conversations and think things through logically when he wants to.

#Anonymous #i tried #this is just what ive noticed :/ i dont keep up w fandom sry #udemaes

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illfoandillfie · 4 years ago

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.......don’t be shy........ show us the comment 👀👀

lmao i will show you but only because i’ve already responded to it. I don’t want anyone to be mean to the commenter or make their own responses or anything like that. I’ve got no problems with people critiquing my work or offering suggestions on how to improve and she was very polite about it. It’s just that I didn’t agree with some of what she said lmao

okay so this comment was left on the prequel to Interloper (Snapshots From Before)

I usually don’t comment a lot in here (tho i do give lots of kudos) and the first part of this was so awesome that i’ve read it many times! However, this second part felt kinda... sexist? I think you gave this the wrong approach and ended up with the boys being a little mysoginistic, specially Roger telling y/n “if you are that hungry for dick you can ride me” (i’m not actually quoting the exact line but it was like that). I would’ve love to see at least one scene where you show some after care and the boys actually caring about y/n so we could see that their relationship is a healthy one. Without this, it just seems like she’s bassically a human sex toy. I get it, it’s the whole “she’s just holes to fill” and that’s great, i respect people who are into that, but even then there has to be some caring and empathy from both parties. Also, orgasm denial is hot but regardless, having sex has to be rewarding for both participants and Roger just sorta fucked her and asked her to leave? In a very non polite way? Sex is about both parties reaching to climax and equality for both lmao.😅 I know it’s a one shot but i would’ve like to see the non sexual part of y/n’s relationship with the boys other than post coital conversations. Again, i loved the first and third part, i think you have so much writing potencial within you and you should embrace it. These are all constructive critics and i do not wish to make you feel bad or offend you. I actually enjoy the whole mecanics of these raw, awesome, hot, sexy sex scenes but even though its fiction (which i know) and this whole slut kink is actually something people like let’s not forget to narrate healthy, caring relationships. Again, this seems like some eassay for a thesis but im just expressing MY point of view and i do not intend harm towards you as a writer or someone else as a reader. And yes, probably i need to “chill the F out” cause it’s just an ao3 bloody fic but still. Expressing an opinion that can help the writer improve is good! I think. Better than spreading hate. Hope you can see this note as friendly and respectul advice. Thank you so much for writing this. Have a great day! Stay safe xxx

and this was my response

Hi! Thanks for taking the time to comment, it really means a lot!

I will definitely keep in mind some of your criticisms as I continue writing, however there are a couple of places where our opinions differ, so I’d like to offer an explanation or two as to why I wrote it the way I did.

Firstly, I have to disagree with your statement that sex is about both parties reaching climax. It’s not. Not always anyway. Taking aside any kink related aspects like orgasm denial, sometimes sex just isn’t about finishing. It can be super rewarding and fun even without the orgasm. So much of an orgasm is related to a person’s mental state that little things like their mood or stress level or if they feel pressure to cum can have a huge impact on how easy it is to orgasm. And women especially can have trouble reaching climax. For some people, mostly women though it can affect men too, the sexual disorder anorgasmia makes orgasm physically impossible no matter how much stimulation they receive. So to say sex is about everyone getting to that end point isn’t totally correct. A lot of the time it’s less about the orgasm and more about feeling good during the rest of the act and/or strengthening a connection with a partner. Expecting everyone to orgasm every time is unrealistic and can in fact make it harder. Of course, that’s ignoring people who enjoy the kink side of it, intentionally stopping orgasms. A lot of people take tease and denial beyond just the length of a single sexual encounter, instead stretching it to days or weeks or months or even years of not being able to cum (fully).

Now, in regards to the fic itself. This chapter came about because I’d asked people to request concepts theyd like to see me write as a blurb or short one shot. I neglected to include the actual request in the summary or author note but the request was for a smutty prequel to interloper flashing back to when Reader was a groupie. At the time of writing I had a lot of requests I was trying to get done within a short amount of time so I was trying to keep things as brief as I could while still giving an entire story. The non-sexual aspects of the relationships didn’t feel important to include in this chapter because that wasn’t what was asked for. On top of that, the entire concept of the story hangs on how the sexual relationship dynamics change when the non-sexual relationship dynamics change and I wanted to make sure that wasn’t affected by the prequel. My goal was to establish a connection between the reader character and each of the guys and to make it feel as if there was history there, so I focused on flirty banter that led into sex scenes. And then, at the end of each scene, implied more would happen between the characters “off page”. I added in the Freddie section at the end as a way to solidify this chapter as a prequel and give a little explanation for how the main part starts (of course, at that time there was no third chapter). Plus, as Freddie doesn’t have a sexual relationship with Reader, his non-sexual relationship with her is very different to her relationships with the others, much closer to a friendship. (Which of course paves the way for how he’s on better terms with her at the beginning of the first chapter.)

One thing you imply in your comment is that as an author I should be writing healthy, caring relationships. I love writing those sorts of stories and relationships but I don’t believe I /have/ to write just healthy, caring relationships. I have a total of 38 fics posted on AO3 and I think most of them deal with “healthy” relationships. I make it a point to write aftercare scenes and to establish trust and safe words between my characters in most of my smut writing. And even if I’m exploring heavier kinks like extreme bdsm or hypnosis and bimbofication I do my best to stick to the rules of “safe, sane and consensual”. But, it is not my job as a writer to create morally perfect or role model relationships. I am well within my rights to explore relationships that don’t adhere to what is traditionally considered healthy, be that through ignoring safe words or foregoing aftercare or just having two characters be manipulative and mean to each other. If you want aftercare and “healthy” I have 37 other fics for you to look at. But this chapter doesn’t have to be that for it to be publishable.

And finally, I feel I have to defend Roger a little bit. I can definitely see how he could be read as sexist and I think part of the problem was just me trying to keep it short which meant I didn’t give enough space for Reader’s reactions or enough descriptions of emotion. But to me, as I was writing it, nothing Roger said was intended to be misogynistic or rude. I was playing around with one of my personal favourite kinks, degradation in conjunction with the orgasm denial (another favourite lmao). Everything he said was specifically to humiliate and degrade her, just because that’s what I find hot. Calling her desperate, telling her she sounds pretty begging, talking down to her, implying he’d /use/ her again later, all of that is part of the degradation kink and I intended for it to be a form of dirty talk. Similarly, the part where he says she can leave wasn’t meant to come across as rude. He calls her a good girl and brushes her hair back from her face first (a softer moment, contrasting everything else that happens between them) and then says she can leave, which plays into the denial kink and the idea that it could last longer than the time they were in bed together. Personally, I’m very very into extended denial, especially if it’s treated as a threat of punishment or something like that, and that was the inspiration behind Roger’s section of this chapter.

Thank you again for the comment, it really did make me think about how I’d written this particular chapter and my intentions behind it. And I fully agree that comments like yours can help writers improve! I’ll definitely keep in mind what you’ve said as I work on my next fic and hopefully avoid some of the unintended sexist overtones in future. Have a great day!

#lowkey feel kinda weird posting this here #but i know some of you would be curious enough to go looking for the original comment #and i really don't want it to go any further #which is also why i didn't screenshot the comment with her username or anything like that #constructive criticism is good and helpful #and i know there are things in my writing that could be commented on #and i don't want to discourage her from leaving comments in the future (be they criticism or praise)#i just thought she missed the point on a couple of aspects of his fic #Anonymous

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mrsjokerphoenix · 5 years ago

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CH. 1 Primed for Sin

Notes: This is my first fanfic so it’s probably not so good LOL its a bit personal and inspired by my own story of losing the love of my life. I was also listening to Slow dancing in a burning room by John Meyer to set the mood. Im open to constructive criticism so I can improve and make chpt 2 better. Enjoy

Ch. 1 primed for sin

This was your final walk down this hallway in Arkham hospital. The same hospital you came to a year ago looking for adventure and to escape the rut of all the daunting paperwork. When you were first hired by the CIA 6 years ago you naively thought it would be like a oo7 movie or spies you see in Hollywood movies. You couldn’t be more mistaken. A chuckle escaped your mouth as you signed in the sign in sheet. You could start to feel your legs getting heavier and heavier with every daunting step you took.

“Is Dr. Quinn in there? You asked the guard. Taking a drink of your black coffee. Bad idea your anxiety was already Moments away from becoming a panic attack.

“Yes, she’s waiting for you.” He answered in his usual bored monotone voice.

“Thank you, once she leaves bring in Arthur please and then you’re free to go as well until our session is over.” Quinn was Arthur’s state psychiatrist. You had paid her off so you could meet with Arthur privately. It had been a year and half since Meeting with Gary about a possible operation. Get his “lad” as he like to call Arthur, out of Arkham. Your specialty was arms deals but something in you wouldn’t let you turn it down.

You were able to pull some strings and be assigned as Arthurs new Doctor with the help of his current one. As a rogue agent you naturally distrusted her. Luckily she didn’t want the case and You were able to pay her off so she would leave during our sessions. Today would be the last one and by tomorrow Arthur or rather Joker would be a free man. You could feel your throat closing up. That lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. No matter how much water you drank or coughing you did it persisted, reminding you just how much you had helplessly fallen in love. There was a chance you will never see each other again. It took every ounce in you to keep it together and not breakdown crying. You broke your most important rule “never fall in love” and now there was no going back. The realization of this left you breathless.

“ good job y/n” you mumbled sarcastically while setting everything down on the old warn down table. Arkham desperately needed to refurnish.

“How do you manage to get more beautiful every time I see you?” You had been so deep in thought, organizing your paperwork, and fighting back tears you didn’t notice Arthur walk in.

“Good morning to you too Arthur.” You grinned from ear to ear as he made his way to give you a hug. “are you ready for tomorrow?” You asked looking up and admiring how beautiful this man was. His salt/pepper hair slicked back leaving his features highlighted. The way his full brows made his green eyes so intense you could get lost in them forever. You had to look away. Never before had you seen eyes that held so much beauty and danger.

“Lets not talk about that kitten, I want this hour to be special. It is our last time meeting you know.” He said shooting you a half smile that made you weak in the knees. But you could see the sadness that decorated his face. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Arthur was so worried about you. Sweet Arthur if only others could see the real you. They would love you as much as I do.

“Look at me please” he ordered. “Youve been crying haven’t you?” Shaking his head

You wanted to lie, deny the whole ordeal, brush it all under the rug but you couldn’t lie to him and you fell into his arms. “Im going to miss you so much. I love you and I feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest. I know we cant be together right now but it hurts. It hurts so much I cant breath.” Body wracked with an onslaught of sobs and tears.

He pulled you into his arms. His warmth would seep into your being and he comforted you without ever opening his mouth. You felt one of his tears cascade down your shoulder.He was intoxicating and every cell in your body craved him like an addict craves his fix. “Im sorry doll” his voice was heavy with pain, the same way guilt weighed down upon his shoulders.

“I know and i will be ok as long as you are safe, that’s all that matters to me Arthur” you replied forcing your voice to sound as normal and not break in the same way your heart was shattering with every second that passed.

He held you tightly. Hands on the small of your back while you wrapped your hands around his neck and face resting on his chest. The two of you danced with grief in the tiny white room in Arkham. Where it all begin. Unforeseen by you meeting him for the first time was like coming out of a hibernation you didn’t know you were in. His eyes green like spring breaking through winters snow. The same room where you had laughed, cried, and talked about the future together. You felt so complete in his arms. He took away the emptiness that like an abusive partner threatened to never leave and you a patient with Stockholm syndrome Obeyed finding comfort in it. You wanted to melt into him and become one so that nothing could ever tear you apart from him.

“We will see each other again I promise.” trying to not only convince him but convince yourself as well.

Arthur started humming the tune of one our favorite songs we slowly danced in a burning room. He whispered those dark silly jokes he was so proud of and knew would get a chuckle out of you. Oh how you prayed time would stop this instant and you could keep experiencing his velvet soft touch. Arthur was your home and soon you’d find yourself homeless once more.

A knock on the door jerked us back into reality. “Its time to take Mr.Fleck back to his room” you heard from across the door.

“Yes gives us a minute please!” You shouted resentfully. It wasn’t the guards fault but you had to take it out on someone. Grasping at any sense left of control.

“Time flies when you’re having fun” he said taking a seat across from your desk. It would be the last time he would sit in that chair. The chair that was a witness to our love story. Once comfortable he gracefully put a cigarette in between his lips and lit it. You found yourself Getting lost in his graceful confident movements. The opening of the box. The click of the lighter. The slight tilt of his head. Crisp burning of a cigarette. First small inhale. Exhale not letting it reach his lungs. The lift of his neck. Long drag. Exhale. It was as if time had slowed down. almost as if the universe was gifting you this so you could take it all in only for it to be preyed away from hands. Only leaving with you those haunting memories of what no longer is. Grieving for what will never be. Oh bittersweet universe. You cruel bastard.

“Yes, sorry” you said. You could feel your cheeks turn cherry red.

“You can stare at me all you want doll.” He insisted.

“Cocky arent we now.” We both broke into laughter. It seemed to lighten the air in the room. Thank God, those sinister white walls felt like they could collapse on you at any second.

still standing leaning on the desk. you turned to pick up the folder on the desk. You had gone over the plan several times and you were confident things would run smoothly. “Gary did a great job putting a team together for you” You advised.

Arthur reached to grab the folder not saying a word. “All the documents to your new properties, weapons bought. Also the names of politicians, law enforcements and agents that will be working for you are also included. Just incase they want to cause problems.”

“I love you y/n always remember that” he finally said.

“I love you too Arthur, Good luck tomorrow everything will work out as planned.” Arthur leaned in for one last tender passionate kiss. His honey sweet tongue dancing with yours to a tune only you two were privy to. Suddenly the guard barged in to take him.

“Im sorry to interrupt but its time” walking towards Arthur. If looks could kill you would have killed him a thousand times over.

You watched as he was handcuffed again and lead out of the room. Arthur never taking his eyes off of you. As soon as the door closed your legs betrayed you as you feel to your knees. The pain flooded every inch of your body like a dam unable of being contained any longer. Tears stinging as they made their way down your cheeks. “Comeback please!” You tried to yell in vain. Unable to find the strength to let it out. “Why do you always take from me God, everything I love gets taken” you cursed at the sky. You had not felt such intense pain since the passing of your mother. Finally finding the strength to pick your shaking limbs off the floor, you noticed a folded note on the desk.

“I was never really insane, except on occasions where my heart was touched.” Go with me doll, i cant do this alone. meet me at the warehouse. We leave at 9. Joker

#joker fanfiction #joker #joker 2019 #joker x reader #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #joaquin phoenix #joaquin pheonix joker #fanfic #lovers

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sunlightnmoonshine · 6 years ago

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Ep 15 (should have been titled bloodbath or the most intense ep I've ever watched)

I cant even seem to collect my thoughts to attempt to write anything on what this ep was. But I shall try because this ep deserves so much analysis.

I think it's almost clear just how much I love Eunseom and wait for scenes with him but this ep managed to hit me even though we probs had less than five minutes of him in it.

You want cold blooded murder? Yeah arthdal chronicles is the show for you. I've always known tagon is trash and nothing short of a whiny brat but even I couldn't predict that he'd react the way that he did (maybe because I hoped that he'd be respectable trash yknow guess that doesn't exist though)

I knew this ep was going to be a bloodbath but I really didn't see all that happened coming. From tagon slashing every single person at inception to that wahan trash beating people by the end of this ep. I did not expect all that they delivered. Jeez tagon I cant wait for eunseom to beat the shit out of you (something tells me though that this will not be his end). No one can ever try to justify what tagon did. It was cruel and uncalled for. I can understand although I do not condone him killing asa ron and the children of shahati or those of white mountain peak but the ministers?? What the hell. He really said screw ya'll I'm about to have a temper tantrum and went at it. Like I've been saying since ep 1, tagon is nothing but trash desperate for attention and he's going to get that one way or the other. Him whining about how he's tried to be good all these years lol I actually laughed out loud because it was the most ridiculous shit I'd ever heard. The guy is beyond delusional and I hope he meets an end truly befitting.

Im actually surprised that they managed to keep hidden the fact that he's an igutu. Does tagon really think the daekhan forces would keep supporting him if they knew? What a pathetic fool. He legit just used his igutu abilities to kill people and then went back to pretending like he's some hero shoving his igutu nature aside. I'd at least think he'd be able to salvage something about his worth by owning up to the fact that he's an igutu but nope, tagon really needs to start carrying a board that reads "I am trash" because that is all he is.

Regardless I enjoy watching his madness. Its amusing to say the least and tagon and taealha share a deep love. No show has portrayed one quite like there's and there's so much to praise of it. I'm glad we got to see taealha fight although the choreography of the fighting was quite good I do think shows need to understand that when jumped by a group they don't attack you one by one because this obviously makes it easier for the individual. Nevertheless they managed to cover it up but there's room for improvement.

All things said and done taealha is most certainly going to go down quite bitterly with tagon, one that she is most deserving of so when the time comes I'll bid the two of them good bye with a happy heart. I've hope that arthdal chronicles will deliver with their ends because THEY SURE AS HELL HANDLED MUGWANGS DEATH FANTASTICALLY.

I've been waiting for this moment since ep 1 and it has finally arrived. Better yet it was completely worth the wait. I'd certainly been wondering how tanyas prophecy for him was going to play out and I think we'd all kind of understood that it was a neanthal who would be killing him but what better person for the task than nunbyeol!? I can't even begin to explain how ecstatic I was during that scene. I was yelling "kill him kill him" quite a bit, the neighbours might think I'm crazy oh but who cares when his death was delivered so well.

I was sad that Harim and his wife had to die... They didn't deserve it at all and neither does chaeeun or nunbyeol deserve having to go through that. Taealha really knows no compassion to none but Tagon. Harim saved the one she loved and she really ordered him dead. And since mugwang stupidly followed such orders he got the end he most certainly deserved. I gotta tell ya hearing that hiss and nunbyeols "retreat? You are too late" has gotta be one of the greatest moments in this show. What's so perfect about panning it this way is that it really ties everything together. The flashback we get of mugwang and mubaek and yet mugwang choosing to ignore those words even though he had absolutely no idea what Harim knew, hell Harim hadn't done anything at all he'd just saved his leader and yet. And yet, he still chose foolishness.

What adds to perfection is that it's nunbyeol who kills him. The very person mubaek chose to spare. She had every right to kill mugwang no doubt but the question that stands now is what will mubaek do? His little pathetic brother just died at the hands of a neanthal he spared. What's even better is that nunbyeol is completely one of a kind being the only sword bearing neanthal. I guess she might end up going back to the neanthals. The last ep already depicted that she might after all. Now chaeeun and nunbyeol have further reason to want tagons demise. Really tagon gains all this hate solely by his own actions, his lack of pro activeness will be his demise. Mugwangs death was completely satisfactory. I'm still extremely excited about it.

On a side note, what's with yangcha? And his change involving Tanya. Its one thing to follow Tagons orders but he also instantly reacted to tanya being in danger. They also shared that psychic moment WHERE WE FINALLY HEAR HIS VOICE. All I got from that scene however was Tanya saying "my eunseom" my heart combusted at that. But it was good to finally see something of what tanya truly feels especially the flashback she had when looking at yangcha and the change in expression. You can tell she's behaving this way only to gain power. Had saya heard what she has to say though....

I was kind of put off by the fact that she just stood there while the wahan rat beat people up to though(I can't remember his name, I barely care about his existence). But I think the show is clearly depicting that Saya is evil. His kindness exists only as far as things are his way. He's a lot like Tagon but at least he's proud of who he is unlike Tagon the wimp. Seeing his smile though as wahan rat beat people up, things were going his way and it's sad that this is the way he wanted. Saya has always wanted a tyranny situation where the throne would one day be his. I'm stil hoping that he'll make some right choice, I still love him very much and I wish him happiness although he might not be quite deserving of it.

But the tyranny has begun. If only the people knew the wimp that sits on that throne. What's interesting is this tyranny has started with Tagon as a saram while Saya wanted Tagon the igutu. This has interesting implications because it allows one to know that it will never be Tagon who changes how people can view igutus and that's why this show is so wonderful. It's about identity and all that it means (but that's for a different post, probably at the end of the series)

I was disappointed that we got such little of eunseom and the writers are pathetic at handling his situation but I understand why it's being done. We'll finally learn something about Ipsaeng and the preview honours the idea that ep 16 will finally give us answers about the prophecy and I'm ecstatic. The pieces are coming together and maybe we'll get a better explanation on why saya is part of the prophecy when he seems to be a bad influence. It also makes sense why this show chose Mubaek as its narrator and ah I love the poetic nature of this show. Its not without its faults but its wonderful regardless.

Three more episodes to go, and I'm so not ready for this epic finale that's coming our way.

#arthdal chronicles #kdrama #Eunseom #Tagon #Saya #Tanya #Yangcha #Mugwang #Mubaek #Neanthal #Nunbyeol #This episode was about so many characters #Arthdal chronicles does well and I say it every week so I gotta say it this week too #Every one not watching is missing out

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spacejew · 5 years ago

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oops accidental personal post I guess

It's weird that I almost feel the need to go here to personal blog again because of a handful of irl friends following what was supposed to be a private personal Twitter in theory, just for like, idk, internet strangers and friends I made online not those imported from meatspace. Also those character limits... Suffocating.

Anyways yeah things are kinda stable but dissapointing lifewise? I'm definitely in a rut and stuck somewhere I'm desperately trying to get out of. Also like. idk. Gender shit. I think I really fucked myself over hard when I made the decision a few years back to conviously bottle up all my dysphoria and trans feelings and bury them and repress them hard and just live as a very gay and feminine bi boy and like. hm. I think I've been happy since? But im thinking now that maybe. Because that's still a part of my psyche that haunts me every day. I might actually have been mildly depressed this whole time and like, still struggling to make important life decisions because of the anxiety of that. Idk. Maybe if I got a therapist and realistic attention to that all those years ago and it turned out to be very real n legit and i got to make tough choices and live my truth, I would be equipped now to actually be joyful and able to fully focus on hard work and taking risks and putting myself out there and being successful and shit. Idk idk idk. I just have to wonder if all this time I've actually been quite unhappy and filling the void with dumb shit and a good deal of dissociation and complacency. Idk. what I'm saying is maybe I made a big mistake there lmao and could've started transitioning, if that's right for me, 4-7 years ago maybe, who knows. Haha so fun. Fuck me. Big Regrets, lads. But also I still don't know if that's right. Which probs means it is who am I kidding. Oof. But it's ok life is a journey I'm full of wise shit and I know it's not the end of the world. It just kinda. Makes me so sad on behalf of the old me who would cry so much because of dysphoria and living in this body in this life. She knew. I don't know why I buried her alive like that. Anyways.

I spent all year struggling to make an animated short (which ended up being kinda long tbh like 10 minutes?) by myself mostly, just me and my mental blocks and executive dysfunction and shit, but I was v passionate about it and worked hard and got to actually bring a whole vision to life, with basically nobody to tell me what to do, just give me feedback that I wasn't obligated to follow. It came out pretty nice and I'm very happy that I got to tell exactly the story I wanted and try a cool new look and I just wish I gave myself more time to work on the actual animation part but I put my heart and endless weeks and months of refinement into the storyboarding and script and every little detail and I really feel accomplished and like it paid off -- and I even got to do a private screening at my summer camp job that I was called in to do one more time at the last minute right when I finished my film, it was a miracle and so perfect, everyone cried and truly loved it and felt touched by it. And then I went to animation festivals! And all this cool shit! But... I haven't been able to figure out a public screening thing yet. And I feel like all my excitement is gone now. And I really wanted to polish the look and some backgrounds a little, just some very quick rerendering and comp, but. I feel like too much time has passed, i just feel dissapointed. I haven't put it online yet cause I haven't done my public screening, cause of my stupid anxiety about little details and overall idk imposter syndrome I guwss I feel more ashamed of it than proud of it even tho it's probably good, and like I feel that everyone was excited to support me but probably nobody cares anymore.

Basically I had all the wind taken out of my sails. Oh and right when I was trying to get it off the ground I guess and push through, my grandma died. I'm so heartbroken I loved her so fucking much and. She never got to see the film cause of my stupid bullshit. I feel so bad about that. So so bad. Ugh. And it's a film very very hilariously blatantly directly based on me and my feelings and my real family history, ultimately besides other main themes it's about talking to your grandparents and family about the past and your current feelings. And in it the main character, a girl, cough cough even though it's basically me, cough cough go figure, gender shit, anyways the climax is her going back in time to talk to her great grandma, and it's very emotional and my best friend of like almost 10 years now composed and recording a music for that scene for me. And now when I eventually screen this, my entire family and also myself is gonna get torn to shreds by this scene more than intended because my own fucking grandma, who I was excited to show this film to more than anyone on earth, passed so unexpectedly without seeing it. Fuck. Why didn't I send it to her when she was in the hospital? Obviously cause if I did that that would make it real and she wouldn't get better and all I do is live in denial. Ugh. Anyways yeah. The point is I'm stagnant and in a rut right now and just want to move forward and focus on making new work and just get a real career relevant job already. Tough year hit a well needed high and now petering off back into misery. Not to be dramatic. I'm ok tbh I have a part time I'm slowly getting sick of and a loving supportive partner and some very good friends, tho not as many as I used to see regularly and that's kinda sad too. That's your 20s babey.

I just need to move on and make big changes. My pattern rn is like. Work fri-sun, if I'm lucky I get to hang out with friends or lovers, usually at least with my partner. on monday I recover from working. on tuesday I have dnd and usually get some stuff done but honestly just catch up on warframe with my clan friends. wednesday my partner and I got to the park and library for half the day and eat and draw and talk. on thursday I mentally prepare for work again and usually we go out to play another roleplaying game with her roommates friends. a lot of that free time that's been left unmentioned is spent being over at bae's sometimes so I don't have the ability to get much work done. Lately I've spent most of my time planning a dnd campaign which is fun but also too stressful on account of obviously I'm not playing it yet so like what's the point, sorry friends who have patiently waited for months for me to be ready to start the game for them. And also like. Yeah idk. just sad and confused and resting my weary heart and body after a very rough month after my grandma passed. But! I did accomplish a very crazy deep cleaning of my room. I threw out 14 bags of shit at the least. I wish I weighed it all, it was a lot. I feel so much more organized and cleansed from that. For the record I didn't have any trash in my room, nor was it every a mess. Just every single cabinet and drawer was crammed full of stuff and I guess I hoarded a lot of shit. I was able to throw away a lot of things I held on to be cause of sentimentality and I'm proud of myself for growing that way. So like. Idk. It's not all bad, baby steps. I still feel like I'm constantly improving as a person! I'm positive, optimistic. Just tired, anxious, and feel bad.

Also I finally got a new phone and because of my hubris I dropped it without a case and it shattered only two weeks in. The day I was gonna buy a case. But it's ok. Story of my life I guess. I can't keep everything pristine and polished forever, one day shit falls and breaks but it's still usable. It has character.

I wasn't expecting to dump everything like this, sorry yall. Thanks for reading I guess. Also I forgot how to do a read more on mobile lol sorry

#personal #capn whitey #tw death #i guess

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v-le · 6 years ago

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Ktravels / Klife: After a year in korea Final Thoughts

Foreword: Surprise, surprise, procrastination got the best of me for quite some time. But im back. And for the last time. At least for the last time regarding my year-long study abroad experience in Korea. Here lies the last bits and pieces of my heart that left behind such a wondrous lifestyle in such a complex country.

I guess this will be the last of my “Korean” writings for a while. I think I kept holding off on this because I didn’t want to solidify the fact that my journey abroad is officially over. I guess even being home and everything still doesn’t make me accept reality. All I can keep thinking these days is that exactly a year ago, I was sitting around every day, waiting for my summer to end & for me to hurry up and end up in Korea & I kept asking myself over and over and over and OVER, ceaselessly: “I wonder how my life will change once I live there. I wonder what my life would be like over there”.

And what’s crazy, is that even though I kept desperately trying to grasp that fact so intensely a year prior to today, I still don’t have the answer as I sit here in this seat. I still don’t think I can properly express what my 10 month-ish experience was like. I feel just as contemplative as I did a year ago.

I think ive been holding off writing this mostly because I don’t even know what to say. Why don’t I have anything to say? Hmm.. or more like, I have so much to say that I don’t even want to begin. Because once I do, and then once I wrap it all up, everything will truly be all over. It’ll solidify the fact that my year abroad is all done for, never to come back to me ever again.

I think my final post of my study abroad IG account, the one I posted every single day for, enclosed my immediate, final thoughts and feelings really well. I mean, I literally wrote that on the plane flying home, sooooo…

Maybe I should start with addressing my goals I set for myself before I left, and how those goals panned out upon my return. Very vaguely, one of my main pursuits was to “become fluent in Korean”. Even to this day, im not exactly sure what that constitutes and by my standards, I don’t really know to what extent I wanted to improve based on that statement…. But, I guess I just really really really wanted to practice communicating more and essentially feel comfortable speaking, reading, writing, and listening in this completely foreign language. And I mean even prior to arriving, I had already known how to read Hangul for like 8 years. So in terms of reading, I just got to practice a looottt and just brush up on my speed & precision, I guess. Listening has also never been too much of a struggle: years of pure absorption and drowning myself in Korean in every form possible has taken me this far, to be quite honest. It was never anything intentional, I just held onto more and more words as the years went by. And quite frankly, I’m pretty damn proud of myself for that. I guess my point is that I unknowingly wanted to focus on improving my writing and speaking. Which sounds a bit futile, because what was the ultimate purpose in expanding on these skills? When I cannot even use them outside of Korea? Hm… I didn’t think that far. I just knew I wanted to improve. Or no, I don’t even think I had any real basis before arriving anyway. I just wanted to get exposed to that side of the language and make some sort of progress. Because I enjoy it that much.

I didn’t even know how to write the strokes of Hangul characters properly. No one had ever taught me. For years, for the small words or phrases I might’ve scribbled down for fun or doodled my notebooks with, I just wrote what I knew, like pictures. I still, to this day, don’t know the proper strokes lol. It kinda makes me feel noob, but o well, ive made it this far nonetheless. In terms of speaking, of course, I had absolutely no background. There had never been a chance to practice this skill… in fact, if there were one, if I did speak Korean at some point before going to Korea, I feel like that would’ve been really weird anyway… I wasn’t learning it formally in a classroom or anything, so if I were to try…. To god-knows-who…… I dunno, that doesn’t seem right to me. There was just never a proper place and time for me to use any sort of spoken Korean, and that made sense. Because I had such a wide range of “skills” under my belt when it came to this language prior to arriving, none of it was… “official”? None of it was ever proper…..? I am not really sure which word fits best, but the fact that I had known everything I knew at that time from pure Korean media absorption, it bothered me a lot actually.

I wanted to learn formally. I wanted to learn properly. So, I didn’t hesitate to take the intensive Korean language course at Yonsei, one that was 4-6pm every day, Monday-Friday, for the entire semester. What I did hesitate with though, very greatly, and a little regretfully, was the level in which I started learning formal Korean. A part of me is regretful, but I think I know in my heart it was the better decision. Speaking Korean with the teacher on the day of the placement test was probably my first time ever really speaking full sentences aloud to someone else & I can sorta recall it with slight embarrassment. Okay not even slight, like a ton lol I was such a nooooobbbb… I still ammmmm….anyway, based on that day’s tests, the teacher deemed me as able to start in level 2. But I rejected him. I told him I wanted to start at level 1. Because ive never learned properly before, I felt the need to start from the beginning. He told me that level 1 would begin with each Hangul character, pronouncing them one by one, etc. He asked if I’d be okay with going over all of that, and I told him it was fine.

My level 1 class ended up being more of a level 1.5 & we went much faster than all the other classes and didn’t even start with the basics that I was originally warned of. But still, quite frankly, level 1 KLI was butts easy and I didn’t even need to study for anything to do well. For that, im pretty proud of myself. I’m not trying to brag, but I’m actually just very glad that my skills I arrived with were at least up to par enough that I could complete 1 without much struggle. What I was most grateful for was that I got out of KLI was a lot of grammar basics. A lot of these structures I recognized and have probably used on my own before, but I didn’t know the rules properly myself, until I finally learned them in KLI. So really, if I didn’t take level 1, I really think I would’ve lost out on that basic foundation needed for learning more advanced things. Granted, I probably could’ve covered a lot of those things in my own time if I searched for the proper resources and had a stronger motivation. But I never did that by myself. So, I sorttttt offfff, “wasted time” in level 1.

The next semester, level 2, was also not too difficult. Some concepts were definitely a bit more challenging and less intuitive, but nothing impossible to understand. Overall, my semester 2 at Yonsei was when my Korean grew to the heights that I had hoped for. If I improved about 10% during semester 1, then I would say I improved 115% in semester 2. I don’t even know what that means myself, but my point is that I had many many manyyy more real life, application opportunities to use Korean. The biggest factor being my participation in Powers, the badminton team at Yonsei, that semester. Aside from the 2729017 other things that Powers influenced that semester, language was a big thing. At some point, many of my teammates considered me the “American that is really good at Korean”, but like, the over-exaggeration is real. Although one dude consistently talked to me in only English for the longest time, once I met beloved ��안언니, that English-only image of me died and I communicated with everyone else the same way they already communicated with each other: in Korean. I know that sounds….like…. idk, not a really big deal. Like wow good for you, you could communicate in a foreign language with these people. But my biggest deal with it was that if it weren’t for me being in Powers, I would not have practiced speaking or expanded my vocabulary or just LEARNED as much as I have. ESPECIALLY meeting 익안언니 was such a blessing. Although she is from Taiwan, she is a grad student studying Korean language and culture which already implies that she is basically fluent in Korean. And me, knowing absolutely no Chinese but at least having half-assed Korean skills, we only ever communicated in Korean from day 1. Since the day we met, the day she came up to me and asked if I wanted to warm-up with her and asked if I was a foreigner or not, and then revealing that shes actually a foreigner, too. That made us automatically click, because we realized we could both speak without feeling wary of sounding dumb or making mistakes in front of a REAL Korean person. Granted, other teammates always heard a lot of our conversations and sometimes joined in, too. The main point was that speaking Korean in that sense, was the best experience I could’ve asked for. Others may think the most ideal would be, y’know, a real Korean person. But, why be picky when the point is that I got to practice.

By the end of semester two, I had a kinda random idea, fueled by a conversation I had with a KLI classmate. She mentioned how she was studying for the TOPIK 2, the intermediate-advanced Korean fluency test for foreigners, and she decided to take it in Korea versus America because she heard it was easier and the 65th one would be held in Korea while she was there anyway. Upon hearing this, I only vaguely knew about this test, I didn’t think it to be that big of deal, yet in my head I knew I was always impressed with foreigners when they would say something like “yeah I placed level 6 (the highest mark) on the topik”. And so, I looked more into the test myself, and I was like hmm maybe I should try it out myself. 익안언니 mentioned that she actually needed to (re)take it too because her score from her last test is expiring soon. So very last minute, we decided to take it together. It costed money, but that was expected. I debated a lot in the beginning whether or not to take TOPIK 1 or 2, aka easy vs hard, but I decided to just fuck it, I just gotta make sure I study for reals and have more faith in my skills lol.

Im glad I made the right decision. I didn’t study as effectively for the test as I would’ve liked, but I did what I could given my circumstances. I was shooting for level 3. I at least wanted a LEVEL out of the test, not a blank score, which is what would be given if you can’t even manage the minimum level 3 out of the TOPIK 2. That test seriously HURT my brain LOL. As you get towards the end of each section, it gets ridiculously hard and there were 2475830 words I did not understand at all and the mere rows of sentences eventually turned into huge walls of text that filled the paper all the way to the edges and o gosh, just imagine how brain frying those sorts of exams can be HAHAHAH.

In the end, I placed level 5. I was 8 points away from level 6. I was honestly very shocked and to this day, I think I just owe my score to me doing a good job at guessing correct answers, not my pure skills LOL. But above all else, I definitely underestimated myself. I really wanted to take the TOPIK to assess my Korean skills once and for all, definitively. But even after receiving my score, I still feel lost on how to accurately describe my skills. Does level 5 even cut it? Do I even have the right to call myself level 5? I got it though, right? Having drowned myself in Korean for 8 years & taken level 1 & 2 KLI, I was able to be lowkey fluent, I guess.

That’s pretty damn cool. Im pretty damn proud of myself. And yeah, idk, that’s that. LOL. Im not trying to brag about myself or anything. All of that was purely my journey with the Korean language, particularly in the context of studying abroad in Korea for a year. And in regards to my goal, I think I did a pretty good job. I can write long chunks of text without too much problem, I can speak a good amount, maybe not 100% flawlessly, but I can hold conversations, I can go weeks with only speaking Korean, and I think that’s pretty awesome progress that I made towards my goal. If anything, I may have surpassed my anticipations. Cool. LOL

Another one of my main goals was to travel outside of Korea. Or not even that, just outside of SEOUL. Because as amazing that city alone is, I also knew that there is sooooo much to explore throughout the rest of the country and even in other nations. For second semester, I went to Tokyo in Japan, Bangkok in Thailand, Taipei and Tainan in Taiwan, and Busan, Jeonju, Jeju-do, and Yeosu in Korea. I was very blessed to travel to 3 other countries and hit a few beautiful areas outside of Seoul in Korea, too. Although it was a tiresome experience, I wouldn’t have traded it for anything else. Balancing school and travels and other commitments was ridiculously tough. Ive repeated this a lot but: all my snaps and ig updates may have looked like fun and games, but the burnout was real. Traveling with friends isn’t all fun and games.

I learned SO MUCH through this experience: planning logistics thoroughly, dealing with money & currency exchanges strategically, balancing school work, moving things around as necessary, utilizing transportation in various different settings in an effective and efficient manner, familiarizing oneself with the GEOGRAPHY of a place (a really important one that I feel people don’t really talk about), researching attractions from different perspectives & using multiple, varied resources, knowing where to go for help, preparing proper lodging accordingly & communicating with hosts/staff, researching FOOD, too. I could go on and on.

But when it comes to traveling, especially while on a budget bc we are broke ass college kids, the amount of proper communication & discussion & preparation with other members of the group that needs to go into it is no joke. It’s not fun and games, it’s making sure that we know what the fuck we’re doing in a foreign environment so that we can explore, see things, get around, eat, and ENJOY our time safely and efficiently.

SO in that sense, I’m also pretty proud of myself & my friends. Special shout out to Sabrina Sooyoung Wong who was my ultimate travel buddy for (almost) everywhere I went. I already miss the amazing time we had together :’(

Continuing where I left off, I have realized that this writing is taking way too long. The day that marks one year since I left for Korea has already passed (August 21st) & I realized that I was gone for exactly 11 months: Aug 21 - July 21 (w/ a break in bw ofc) bc I literally landed back in America on the 21st of July, not realizing that the day I left was exactly the 21st as well. And my birthday is on the 21st too. Of Sept..:0 that’s whack. ANYWAYYYYYYY…………

What more do I have to say about this trip, hmmmm……. Ive already talked about my growth through the language and through traveling all over the place…These days, ive truly been trying to relive & recall the worries that shrouded my mind a year ago before I left.

I remember so clearly, constantly asking myself “How will my life change once I go and live there? Will I even be able to make any friends?” People around me also kept telling me that I would “HAVE SO MUCH FUNNNN”, but I recall constantly shutting them down and being pessimistic & telling everyone that I “would just be a normal student studying all the time, just in a different country lol” To address all these predeparture worries, I’ll say simply, thinking back on it now: My life changed SO MUCH, that it feels like nothing even happened at all (ik like wtf??? But lemme explain…), I made friends that I know will last a lifetime, and HONESTLY, I worked really hard studying when it came down to it, but I also made sure to have as much fun as I could. I did my best to balance everything (especially 2nd semester..)

So like, how tf could my life have changed so much that it feels unreal? Well, it’s exactly that. My daily life, the way I went about my daily routine, the lifestyle that I honed, the world that I wrapped myself in, the things I did, the food I ate, just about EVERYTHING about my life in Korea was so drastically different than my life in America, that returning home actually just makes it all feel like a dream, as if it were all a lie. My Korean lifestyle and my American lifestyle are incomparable. They are two completely different worlds. And for that…. I….. yes, I miss the Korean one like crazy every day, but that affection and sentiment for what I had makes my experience all the more precious and just… dear to my heart. Oh so dear to my heart, 나의 유학생활…. I think I kept asking myself the “how will it change” question countless times before I left because I was trying to prepare myself, trying to make sure I don’t throw myself off in the heat of it, make sure I stay grounded in the reality of my circumstances. And although nothing could’ve prepared myself enough for all those specific changes in my life, I think I definitely stayed rooted in mindfulness and never lost sight of the privilege I had.

If I look back on my first semester writings, I always repeated the words “thankful” & “grateful”. I really did my everything to remind myself of those feelings. Same goes for the friends that I met. Particularly my first semester gang, my days spent with them were infinitely bright. I feel like we were all so lost in the wonders of Korea (and Taiwan) and the beauty of just being there, spending time together, having valuable conversations, but also some very dumb ones, and really just bathing in the precious company of each other. It is not every day you meet an amazing group of people as the ones I did 1st sem. I gave yall a shoutout before, but thank yall again for taking care of me, the youngest of younglings out there, and making me laugh & smile more than I could ever recall doing with anyone else. Even my blessed friends from 2nd sem too, sooyoung, antony, Vicky, & 익안언니, I could not have imagined what my life would’ve been with them. My point in all of this? I was so worried about “making friends”, but miraculously, luckily, AMAZINGLY, it all worked out in the end. I am so grateful for that. I got close to some frking really cool people, who I still talk to today, who I still think about a lot, whom I owe a lot of myself to. Even if our collective time spent together was not the longest, even if the timespan of my other friendships are significantly more extensive, the friends I made through studying abroad are infinitely valuable and precious to me at the end of the day. Only stunning memories remain. Our friendships wont end there. They only started in Korea, but I have faith that they will transcend timezones and the years to come.

In terms of just balancing LIFE in korea, I can definitely recall many instances where I felt completely overwhelmed and burnt out. Those days were bound to come from the start. There were many days were I lacked a significant amount of sleep because I was so busy, there were days were I felt perpetually stuck & I could never overcome my problems (the things… a foreigner in Korean cannot do without a phone number…. Gg I felt soooooo shitty at that time)… there were also, ofc, days where I felt frustrated with many different people, there were days were I was so stressed out about whether I was doing the right thing (my 2 tutoring gigs…) or if I deserved anything I was receiving…., there were countless days where I studied hard and stressed about academics, as always (but I managed to get all A+’s 2nd sem & im honestly so proud of that…) …there were plenty of days where I would feel Korean societal standards weigh down on me & I felt painfully inclined to fit in in any and every way possible,.. I also struggled with deeper questions about the kind of toxic community Koreans can foster in various contexts (political, nationalism, etc..)… and the biggest of adversities, the one that broke me down the most, and to this day has left me empty & lost… was watching my singer get torn apart and disappear before my eyes.

I have written about this specific topic very extensively in a different piece, and…. It is definitely a pretty heated, passionate, painful piece. I had many many many many things to say about all of it, and I actually still have countless words to say, honestly. For sake of concision, for sake of keeping my sanity in place for at least this piece of text, for the sake of my world that has crumbled apart far too much for me to ever pick myself back up again… I’ll just say… I miss him so much and I pray for the day I can listen to him again. I won’t even be greedy and say “see” him again. I know ive seen him more times than I ever deserved too. But I want to listen to his voice again. In a new light, in a reassuring way. In some form, I want to hear him again… just once at least… please…Knowing him, listening to him for years, holding onto my life with his voice & music… I know that he needs to do music and nothing else. It breaks my heart every day to think about how this light has been lost from him.

One day… one day……….. I pray desperately every day that one day, he will come back to us. Please.

Its honestly pretty difficult to talk about my hardships during my time in Korea without mentioning that stuff. It has taken such a big toll on me, life became so taxing because of that one situation, that even today I sit here, half a year after it all fell apart, without much improvement on the state of things anyway. But enough of the negative stuff. I hope that’s enough. Despite all the pain & highkey trauma I acquired from it all, I know that at the end of the day I learned valuable lessons and that I am still grateful for every experience nonetheless.

I still wouldn’t be who I am today or where I am today without those tough times, too. It sucks that I lost my light along the way, I lost sight of my world that so ironically always gave me healing when I needed it most.

Another thing I should mention is how I am also very grateful for that fact that I never got sick while in Korea, or just while abroad in general. I usually catch a cold about once a year, even my first year of college, I definitely had that small period of time where I was dead sick from some sort of virus. But not once, did my body ever falter while abroad. It’s ironic because usually being in foreign countries, especially the not-the-most-sanitary ones like Thailand, Taiwan, etc, one would normally be much more susceptible to a stomach bug or heat-related complication or whatever. One would think that my body would be especially vulnerable abroad. But nope. I stayed strong all throughout. I’m pretty damn proud of that too. I tend to take my health for granted, but looking back on it now, I guess I held up pretty well despite all the odds against me.

The most important question I should be asking myself now is… How have I changed since I’ve studied abroad? Some basic changes would be my outer appearance. My makeup has definitely changed, my clothes do not exactly look like the rest of my friends’, and my eyes are sometimes slightly different colored LOL. But, mentally? Emotionally? What has korea done to me? I thought that once I returned from being abroad, I could be this strong, amazing, fearless, bold person. Maybe in some aspects, I do feel that way. But quite frankly, being away from some beloved, close friends for so long has left me more insecure and unsure than I would like to admit.

No part of my confidence has significantly skyrocketed or anything. I am still too much of a pessimist for any of that to be possible. I actually feel kinda reluctant, vulnerable, skeptical… when it comes back to reconnecting with the friends I haven’t seen for over a year. So in this way, Korea has changed me in which I do not know how to reconvene with the life I originally left.

Korea also….. made me fall in love with the “Asian lifestyle”. I say this a lot in person, but I think I genuinely love Asian culture & way of living better than America’s. Especially after coming back & coming to terms with how normalized some illegal stuff are among kids my age are now, I cant vibe with any of that. I know well enough that both cultures have their pros and cons and but I think I can safely say I prefer one over the other. I have grown up in the same exact house and neighborhood my entire life and I very ironically chose to go to a school that mirrors this familiar environment almost perfectly. Therefore, I easily lose sight about what is new, what is enjoyable, what keeps me grounded here.

So to be honest, nothing keeps me grounded in my hometown. Not my parents, not really my hometown friends, nothing special. It’s a fact that I felt more attached to Korea than America. I don’t know. It just ended up that way.

I traveled to and studied there for a year because I felt like my heart belonged there. And after coming back, I think I finally can contest to that statement.

One more thing, as I try to run out of things to say… I dislike K-pop and I wish it wasn’t such a definitive part of Korea itself. I know for a fact that the way in which K-pop has blown up over the years is an inherent loss for Korean culture because now the world has been misguided, misinformed, and misinterpreting Korea as a whole due to K-pop. I hate how, if I were to speak to someone ive never met before about me studying abroad in Korea, they would most likely assume that I like K-pop or make some sort of connection to my experience, with K-pop. That presumption needs to end. I do not relate my experience to K-pop in any way. There was so much outside of that. So like, no, I did not meet so-and-so. No, I did not see that group on the streets. No, I did not go to that concert. I admit I went to plenty of concerts, but those people were basically NO NAMES compared to actual K-pop artists… So please… I wish there was a distance between Kpop & Korea.

I have come to cherish Korean culture way outside of K-pop. Sure, its what exposed me to it all in the beginning, but I very quickly, very NATURALLY, grew out of that mindset & perspective. Sigh. That’s that. A real shame.

I haven’t been able to wrap this up for an entire week now and I think, right before I head back to school for good at UCI, this would be a good time to close it up for good.

What I meant to talk about throughout this entire “final journey” chunk was how studying abroad changed me, and what that might mean for my future.

These days, while ive been lowkey wallowing away at home, avoiding my responsibilities and waiting for everything to come crashing down onto me once I return to Irvine, one of the biggest things ive been really missing is Yeosu. My spontaneous 2 day, 1 night trip to Yeosu with Sabrina was probably one of the best spontaneous adventures I ever chose to do.

Yeosu held some sort of beauty that is so impossible to explain, that pictures don’t even do justice for, and is really just a hidden gem sort of place that I am so so so blessed to have visited and fallen in love with. Even if it was just for two short days, Yeosu treated us SO well. It will forever be one of the best memories I’ve made in Korea, because of all its combined natural beauty, open air, wonderful weather, breathtaking views, exciting and undying street pojangmacha street life, and FOOD! Amazing, home-cooked 한식…..it was really, honestly, great.

Another thing I thought of: I feel like I took so many airplanes that I lost count and I even lost that exhilarating, enthusiastic feeling that used to be associated with taking airplanes at some point. I am not trying to BRAG that I had that sort of privilege, but I just wanted to…. Reminisce on that missing emotion. Now, going through that entire check-in, security, waiting, boarding process feels sooooo draggy, and if anything, even a waste of time….. :( but I at least appreciate airplanes for being able to take me everywhere…

OKAY FOR REALS, last thing im going to address: my current perceptions on sharing my journey abroad with others. If im going to be completely honest, I really hesitate to talk about how I studied in Korea for a year. I am pretty damn paranoid about what people would think of me and I am reluctant to really tell my story because I feel like all of it is very important and special and dear to my heart that it’s not as simple as “yeah, it was chill, I had a great time”. In response to the question of “omg how was it????”, ive literally made a script for myself: “honestly, like my life in korea and my life here in America were so totally different that it feels like it didn’t even happen… it went by so fast and there was so much going on that coming back here feels pretty weird…also, reverse-culture shock is real”

That is the best spiel I can muster up if I were to briefly talk about my experiences abroad. But in reality, I would want to talk about why korea & the Korean language mean so much to me, how grateful I am for all the places and people and things I got to see, how convenient day-to-day life was. And most of all, I would want to address the all the negative things I discovered about Korea. I would want to talk about how for nearly half of my time there, my world was, and still is, crashing down onto me, and how that entire happening has affected my viewpoint of Korean society greatly. I would love to go on about the nuances that make Korea a very toxic social environment, how many aspects that make it well-known and well-received globally also contribute to my disliking for Korea. My experience was so eye-opening. It really was. With all the beauty I discovered along the way, I feel like I faced some extremely terrible shit, too. But of course, as I have been repeating ceaselessly, I am thankful at the end of the day. I always am.

I think at this point, I don’t have much more to say. Despite how much I miss Korea on a daily basis, for now, I think its best to let go of it. I am proud that my daily Instagram will stay as my detailed, thorough testimony to the countless experiences and stories I thought were worth sharing, or remembering at the very least. 286 days. To be exact, I was abroad for 286 days. Not a year exactly, but sorta close. I did my best. I did everything I could. I was independent as I could be, I saw all the things I could see, and I just appreciated it all at the end of the day.

I am really excited to go back one day. It’s at the least the one thing keeping me a little bit optimistic for the future.

잘 있어줘, 한국아. 모든 걸 고마웠다.

#korea #yonsei #klife #study abroad #its officially all over #twas a good run #thank u for everything #to all the ppl that made it worth #am forever grateful

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