#someone PLEASE ASK ME TO EXPLAIN MY ORGANISATION SYSTEM

[whereareyouvera]

i'm working late 🎶 (obsessively organising my bookshelf at 1am) cause i'm a singer 🎶 (a bored neurosexy person who needs a project to hyperfixate on)

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

Hey cap :3

miscellaneous meta lore question for OM this time!!

also I need you to know that I can't spell miscellaneous. every single time I have and will type it have been autocorrected it's like my worst enemy

Anyways- prelude time.

Other Magic is like so much fun because of the sheer variety of mythos and magic you incorporate into it. I mean; Alya is a twist on Selkies which have always been one of my favourite scottish folklore stories, there’s this one story about a boy who was a selkie that I read when I was way younger but I cannae remember enough details to find it again. Then you’ve got someone like Kagami who is a Nekomata from Japanese folklore which was super interesting to see and then subsequently do more research on, cause I didn't know they existed before that which was a failure on my part. And then you’ve got the more miscellaneous monsters of vaguely european origins which also fit the specific character themes wonderfully, like Juleka being a Vampire, Nino being a Gargoyle (which btw rocks (pun intended) for the whole protection thing he has going on) and Sabrina being a changeling the list goes on.

I honestly can’t tell if you’re just really good at finding the perfect fit or just such an excellent writer that what you chose feels like the perfect fit for your version of the characters. Probably a bit of both. 

Obviously you know all this, you’re the one who wrote it. What I’m getting at is; how the fuck did you decide how the magic system works?

Is it, like, not a concrete thing? Do you make it up as you go along?

Or do you have a proper magic system in place that fits behind all the crazy variety of sources you’ve pulled the monsters from?

If you make it up as you go along, what are some of the things you have decided are like hard rules of magic? (which do not go into spoiler territory! Perish the thought that I am vying for spoilers. Your response about how time worked in the PN universe without veering into spoiler territory was fantastic. and I'm insane about your drawings of Alix.) 

And if you don’t… how the fuck have you got a system in place for all this? Is it a hard magic system or a soft magic system? Please I beg of thee tell me how it works. 

Deciding on magic systems for things is the bane of my existence. Pokemon types and moves even count as one, so don’t get me started on how crazy insane I’ve gone for the origins of magic and how it works for the planning of my own miraculous fic is. like I need to stop. 

Anyway. The point is. Every single time you introduce a characters monstrous side you inevitably have to explain how that works in relation to the other magic (pun intended) and the fact that you’ve managed that without contradicting yourself or making things seem far fetched or shoe horned in has me clawing at the walls in my cage. Are you a magician. seriously, how did you do it.  

That and I’m curious if you’ll get more into how Miraculous magic affects regular magic (that feels like an oxymoron, as if magic could be normal). Cause obviously we got Little Red and Wicked Witch being akumatised together cause they were both holding the glove, but their closeness even while evilised felt like it was because of the familiar bond. 

This is a super broad question sorry if that’ll be difficult to answer!! however observations and notes on things plus hyper specific questions are coming soon! I simply must organise myself. (and have my 18th birthday tomorrow… so soon may be later than expected, i keep forgetting that’s happening this has changed my plans significantly. fuck)

Magic systems are pretty tough!! I originally made it up as a I went along, but what I did then that I feel like was important was- instead of just doing things and saying they were related, I tried to branch out the system by asking lots of "why" and "how" questions with myself.

So, for example with Alix, my base was; "Wouldnt it be cool if she wrote down spells like Luz and the Kane Chronicals" which is kinda lame. But still, I worked to try and clean it up. "Spells and Runes are like Code commands to magic." became the cleaner base. Then I asked; "Why not just use a wand?" So I asked myself "What makes wands different?" and so on.

I then asked myself if the answers I made could connect and become answers for other things. Which creates an interconnecting system.

Making it up as you go along is natural and inevitable, the only difference between planning and making it up is how long you think about it without touching your keyboard. I asked myself my big magic questions because of points in the story where I had no idea how something worked and instead of trying to fit it with what I originally knew, I tried to figure out how things would accomodate the new thing.

ALSO HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY!!!!

[wordsandrobots]

For the writer asks: 7, 27, 40! Thank you!

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

The same joy I get from any creative act: that of seeing something come into existence.

There's something incredible about taking an idea, fleshing it out and giving it a presence in the world. Be it writing, drawing, baking, building, whatever -- it's just wonderfully satisfying. I tend to do a lot of stuff in my head before I go to the keyboard (planning, scripting, feeling out the words) so it's always exciting to get to the point of actually doing. Because then it's there, on the page, more than just an image in my head.

And that's magic.

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

Heh.

When I was starting on my Iron-Blooded Orphans fan-fic spree (is it still a spree at this point?), I decided I needed a new villain, on account of the previous lower-level villains in the show meeting various ignoble fates and also because no one really filled the niche I was creating. I wanted someone who appeared nice, reasonable and even sympathetic on the surface (that is, showed sympathy to others) but who, not very deeply underneath, only ultimately cared about seeing their work completed.

(I explain this straight-up two chapters into them appearing in the story; it's not remotely a spoiler as I never intended to portray them *as* what they appeared to be on the surface.)

Additionally, I drew on ideas around assimilation and integration as a key part of their deal. They deliberately cultivated an 'acceptable' persona in the face of institutional elitism to get the power required to achieve their goals. There's a whole mass of reasons that plays on my mind generally (short version: I'm English) but I thought that, in context of this show, it would be an interesting thing to explore.

And you'd think they'd stress me out because I decided to make them non-binary and emphasise how deliberately appearing exactly androgynous was part a deeply performative and manipulative personality, as a means of stressing the way hierarchical organisations both allow space for people to game the system by playing into the signifiers of 'properness' and enforce those signifiers as the barrier to entry, and oh gods and muses I hope I haven't accidentally dropped into bad tropes about queer people, they can be bastards too, argh, argh, doubt, doubt, look they're not the only NB in my story, their gender isn't why they're like this I swear!

Except then I decided to write an entire fic from their point of view.

Writing close third person for a character whose view of the world is extremely cynical and selfish while also trying to convey to the reader that it is wrong is, when you do it for 10,000 words straight, rather exhausting! It's not just that they're a nasty piece of work. I *like* writing villains, especially the horrible ones; it's fun to show why the villainy makes sense from the other side. But *this* villain and this specific brand of 'I am always right, my goal is all that matters, anyone who disagrees is an idiot' was actively taxing to write.

Maybe it was the length, maybe it was the ways it struck closer to home in the middle of the giant robot fiction, maybe it was simply that their brand of betrayal and self-aggrandisement is ultimately kind of miserable. All I can say is, by the time I finished Of Obsessions and Erotemes, I was kind of burnt out. Constructing their headspace took a toll like nobody else I've ever written.

I'd do it all over again, obviously.

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

Argh, no, poetry, my one weakness!!!

OK, one of my weaknesses!!!

But in seriousness, me and poetry are ships in the night. I have known some lovely poets and been awed by their ability with words, but I've never really sought it out, so what I do know is mostly thunderingly obvious snatches of my ambient culture.

However, and though I suspect it's not entirely in the spirit of the question, for a poem about which I can say, this matters to me, Sassoon's The General sits somewhere near the heart of the great swell of anger I feel whenever we get to Poppy Fanaticism Season over here in Blighty. The fecklessness and callousness of our leaders during World War One has a through-line to the present that my own writing is likely always going to be in conversation with.

"Good-morning, good-morning!" the General said When we met him last week on our way to the line Now the soldiers he smiled at are most of 'em dead, And we're cursing his staff for incompetent swine. “He's a cheery old card,” grunted Harry to Jack As they slogged up to Arras with rifle and pack. But he did for them both by his plan of attack.

The General [Siegfried Sassoon]

For an ask game

[rangergurlgleek1211]

One Line Any Fic

Tagged by the lovely @ravens-words.

Rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! then tag 10 people.

A bad Day To Break Down (Tarlos)

As soon as Nancy hangs up, Carlos is dialing TK’s number, cursing in Spanish as TK’s voicemail kicks in. Trying two more times and still getting TK’s voicemail, Carlos quickly gets dressed, grabs his keys, and even takes his gun from the safe in their bedroom.

A Shock To The System (Tarlos)

“No, Mijo, this isn’t your fault. Please don’t be so hard on yourself,” Andrea soothed him, her motherly voice surrounding him like one of those warm embraces his mother used to give when he felt like everything was collapsing around him. That tone had always meant family, home, and safety to him, and TK had been sure he had lost it with his mother’s death. Until this moment. “He’s strong, my Carlitos. He would never leave this world knowing you were right here waiting for him. He has to be fine,” Andrea continued, her words sounding so sure, giving him the strength he needed. “Pray with me, Mijo.”

I Could Really Use A Hug (Tarlos)

TK doesn’t know how much time has passed when he notices his dad and Tommy come into the bunk room, hesitantly standing at the door but not approaching. They're having a quiet conversation he can’t hear. His dad eventually begins to start toward him but Tommy’s hand on his shoulder stops him as she nods to the left, looking at something or someone outside the room.

That first night TK,That night i told myself seeing you at the bar. "I'm going to Marry him." (Tarlos)

“Yeah babe, that night while I was leaning against the bar, I noticed you smiling and laughing with your new crew. I was in awe. I never thought I would find someone in Austin. I was at a loss for words until I walked up to you when your friends went dancing. I knew then I just had to ask you to at least dance with me........"

Actually TK He is My Ex-Boyfriend (Tarlos)

“Oh just spit it out!!, it can’t be that bad, He mess up your organised desk, or has done something to disrupt you being a control freak ” TK replied sarcastically, laughing as he finished.

Why Can't things ever be simple? (Tarlos)

“My team has, I’m so happy I found you and your both okay. Or just about. What happened here, mate.” Tk asks as he crouched down in front of the injured boy.

“ We ran into a coyote, we tried to run but max fell. I think he broke his leg.” Chris explained.

We're a family, we will always have each others backs! (Tarlos+Firefam)

“How the heck did I miss that memo Strand” Captain Jacobs booms from behind them.

Everyone jumped at his sudden appearance.

“ That explains everything much clearer now, especially since you struggle to do your job correctly,” Samuels exclaims.

Am I Not Good Enough? (Tarlos/2x06 Coda)

“Hey” Carlos tips Tk’s chin up to look at him “If it’s got you this upset, it’s not stupid”

Pulling away from Carlos, Tk looks back down and spills everything that has been on his mind all day. What his father said, what happened at the minefield and how he found the bottle of wine in the bottom cupboard while making dinner.

Why Does It Always Happen To TK? (Tarlos)

Not hearing Matt Talking to him, Tk interrupts “Sorry Matt, but I really need to get back to my table my boyfriends waiting for me”. Looking a little shocked at matts closeness Tk took a step back. Realising the predicament he’s now in, Tk tried to look for any kind of escape. Watching everyone around them having a good time, TK realised he needed to sort this out by himself, so TK moved around Matt to walk away from him.

A Blast From The Past (Tarlos)

Tk’s vision slowly started to come back into focus and the words around him became clearer. Tk felt tired. It had been years since he had a panic attack that bad. New York, Tk’s mind registered. Remembering it slightly and realisation dawned on him as he slowly looked around at the crowd who had gathered, looking for the cause of his panic attack.

Well that was more than a sentence. But i couldn't just choose one line from each paragraph lol. hope you enjoyed these snippets and want to read more.

Tagging : @sapphire11,@chaotictarlos, @detective-giggles, @noxsoulmate, @tarlos-spain. @beautifulhigh.

[marvelhero-fics]

Snowman

Series - Chapter One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re a HYDRA assassin that’s worked closely with the Winter Soldier, to each of your dismay you’re reunited with Bucky after the blip. 

A/N: I haven’t posted in like 300 years, but I hope you guys enjoy this new series! This follows parts of TFATWS so expect spoilers! (Also I’m sure all the Russian is absolutely wrong, if you’d like to correct it please send me a message!)

Word Count: 1,815 (future chapters will be wayyy longer)

Snowman Masterlist || Full Masterlist

New York

2023

“So tell me about this-” the therapist looked down at her notes briefly, “(Y/N).” She finished.

Bucky paused momentarily, “No.”

“James, for these therapy sessions to be effective, you need to open up to me. I can’t help you if I don't know what’s wrong.” His therapist responded, laying her pen carefully on her small notebook.

Bucky thought for a moment, taking in the ambience of the room. What would he even say about (Y/N)? He hadn’t seen her in years. Bucky was kicking himself for accidentally bringing her up in his session last week. “I- uh-” he stammered, shifting his weight on the couch, “I met her in 2011. At least I think it was 2011. Date’s get kinda fuzzy sometimes, with all the cryo.” Bucky’s hand pressed against his head, feeling dazed as he tried to think back. “It was at the big HYDRA base outside of Moscow. We had to go on a mission together-” he was cut off,

“Did she work for HYDRA?” Dr Raynor interjected.

“Yea. She was an assassin too. She went by the alias the Viper.” Bucky pretended not to notice his therapist tense up. Anyone who knew anything about HYDRA knew who the Viper was. She was one of the most prolific assassins after the Winter Soldier.

“Tell me more about when you met her.”

“We were instructed to take out a terrorist organisation forming against SHIELD. Which was ironic because we were working for a terrorist organisation. But at this point SHIELD was being run by HYDRA and they couldn’t risk any slip ups, so they put 6 assassins on the job. HYDRA usually didn’t have their assassins working together, we were all too volatile. But we had to take out over 70 people in one night. It was (Y/N), a few assassins from the Red Room, and a few agents that HYDRA had trained personally, and me.” Bucky stopped.

“Where was (Y/N) trained?”

“At a secondary facility run by HYDRA. She was trained from a really young age. It’s all she’s known.” Bucky seemed somber. But his therapist continued,

“What happened on the mission?”

“Nothing. It went exactly to plan. The targets were taken out and we all left without a trace. But (Y/N), she- she kept trying to talk to me, or get to know me. I was the Winter Soldier. No one in their right mind ever tried to ‘get to know me’.”

“Why do you think (Y/N) did that?”

“She told me she was bored.” He replied bluntly.

Moscow

2011

The poorly lit conference room was filled with a myriad of assassins and officials. The only illumination came from old LED lights hanging from the concrete ceiling. The mossy green paint on the walls looked as if it hadn’t been patched up in years. The only new-ish part of the room was the large, oak conference table, surrounded by black, leather seating. It was difficult not to notice the red HYDRA symbol holding a spot on almost every piece of clothing in the area.

“TITAN terroristicheskaya organizatsiya, formiruyushchayasya protiv nas. (TITAN is a terrorist organisation forming against us.)” Kuznetsov spoke, “Izbrannyye budut otpravleny segodnya vecherom v Ukrainu dlya vypolneniya postavlennoy zadachi. Uberi ikh. (The chosen ones will be sent to Ukraine tonight to complete their given tasks. Take them out.)”

That was all it took. You stared at the file in front of you. You had read through it multiple times, going over every single name, every single skill set your targets had. You were more than certain you could complete this job on your own. But you had no choice on the matter.

Your eyes darted around, taking in the faces of the assassins that were to accompany you on your mission. Two youthful females, dressed in black leather sat next to each other. The older, grimacing woman behind them was Madame B., the head supervisor of the Red Room. You moved your gaze to the two agents in dark green uniforms and red, soviet berets. Neither looked particularly menacing.

You finally landed on the last assassin. His dark hair fell like curtains around his face. Gloomy blue eyes searched their way through the room. His sharp jaw seemed tense through his stubbled cheeks. He was large, extremely built. Covering his frame was an amplitude of black clothing and gear.

“Play nice.” Your mentor spoke softly over your shoulder, breaking you from your train of thought.  

“I always do.”

~

Your padded snow boots ripped through the thick snow covering the ground. The six of you had hiked your way to the set point on your GPS systems, the clouds of snowfall covering your vision held the illusion that there were absolutely no structures nearby. A large helicopter had dropped the group a few miles out from the hideout to ensure nothing was compromised. The trek was in utter silence, fighting against the harsh temperature in mid February.

The waypoint became closer on your map, a tiny building slowly appeared in your vision against the foggy downfall. It was a small, wooden cabin. Everyone hustled their way through the unlocked door. It was barren, it held no furniture, no blankets, no means of any life. There appeared to be a few doors that led to small, empty rooms. The entrance only held a small fireplace, filled with old cut down logs that had been eaten by bugs.

The group quickly dispersed, you headed to one of the rooms alone, throwing down your belongings onto the floor. The bag you carried was mainly filled with weapons and ammunition, along with a very warm sleeping bag. You knew too well you wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, but you would need the extra heat for now.

There was no chatter anywhere in the house. Your mission would begin in 6 hours. Everyone was likely putting together their artillery. You decided to cozy up in your navy sleeping bag for a moment of comfort.

Someone had lit the fire in the lounge. A warm, orange light crept through the cracks in your door. The ambiance was strangely calming for a shitty cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Snow continued to fall against the tiny glass pane of your room. You weren’t a fan of assassinating in the snow. It was low vision, harsher climates, and it lessened the ability to move. Snakes weren’t creatures of the cold. Conveniently you’d been grouped with someone who called himself ‘The Winter Soldier’. I’m sure he loves the cold, you thought.

You’d heard a lot about him. Everyone had. He was the perfect assassin. He never failed a mission, his body didn’t reject cryo, every form of enhancement HYDRA had used on him had been a success. He was what every assassin had aspired to be.

Without thought, you grabbed the glass bottle laying next to you and walked off to the room the Winter Soldier had claimed for the night.

“Privet (Hello)”. You announced, pushing his door open with a creak. His head didn’t turn towards you. He sat on the floor, the sound coming from him indicated he was sharpening knives.

“Khochesh' vypit'? (Want a drink?)” You asked, motioning the bottle towards him.

He stayed silent for a moment. Finally he turned, looking up at you from his position on the floor. “What is it?” His dark tone asked back. The amber light from the fire crashed against his features. His strong jaw was covered with a dark stubble, his brunette hair tucked behind his ears. His most obvious feature was the hauntingly blue eyes that sat in sunken sockets, he looked drained.

“It’s vodka.” You stated, honestly. You were surprised to hear he wasn’t Russian, he sounded… American?

“You’re drinking before a mission?” He queried.

You shrugged. “Alcohol doesn’t freeze.” You sat down next to him. “Plus it takes the edge off.” A faint clinking noise announced as you placed the bottle on the floor between you two. He stared at you for a moment, before quietly going back to his knives.

“Wanna play 20 questions?” You interrupted the silence.

“No.”

“What about truth or dare?”

“I’m not 14.” the soldier replied, his eyes not leaving his handy work.

“How old are you?” You shot back,

“Why are you trying to get to know me?” He dodged your question.

“I’m bored.” You shrugged, taking a deep swig of the vodka. “And by my calculations,” you peered down at your watch, “we still have 3 hours and 27 minutes until the mission starts.”

He gave a shallow sigh, “93.”

“What?”

“I’m 93. How old are you.”

“93?! You were born in 1917?”

“Mhm. How old are you.”

“25. You look great for 93.” You chuckled.

“You look old for 25.” He jabbed back. His knife sharpener still grinding across a 6 inch blade.

“You flatter me.” You replied sarcastically. “So what’s your story? How’d you make it to 93?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Why would I ask if I didn’t want to know?”

Bucky looked over at you. “I’m telling you, you don’t want to know.”

“C’mon old man,  I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” You smirked. He once again, went back to his knives. It almost seemed as if he was trying to threaten you, pulling out larger knife after larger knife.

You huffed, opening your mouth to speak, “I was born in Hungary to a drug abusing mother, and an absent father. I was kidnapped and sold to HYDRA when I was 6. I was placed under the care of the Kraken. Not sure if you’ve met him, he’s this large guy-”

“I’ve met him.” Bucky stated, interrupting your spiel.

“Right, well, he trained me for years. Eventually HYDRA got involved again and I was tested on, experimented on, messed with, ya’ know, all that fun stuff.” You explained.

“Are you enhanced?” Bucky asked, almost as if he was actually interested.

“Yea. I have this whole snake venom trick. It’s great for up close combat. The experiments really should’ve killed me though. But maybe that’s what makes us so good-” Bucky looked over at the woman next to him, her bright eyes stared back at him as she spoke “ya’ know, the best assassins are the ones living off borrowed time. Because we’ve met death before, so we’re not afraid to do it again.”

Bucky quickly grabbed the Barrett M82 rifle next to him, his metal arm making faint whirring noises. “I’m going to scope out the base.” He stated bluntly. And with that, his large black boots walked him out the bedroom, and out the door.

You let out a faint sigh, creeping back to your room to sort out your weapons. You were sure it was something you said that scared him off. I guess at 93 you have to be living off too much borrowed time, you speculated. You absentmindedly set up your pistols, your mind not being able to wander from the Winter Soldier. Maybe annoying the Red Room girls would get your mind off it.

[chazukekani]

Previous // Next

Here comes the summary of Code:02 (chapter 2) of Stormbringer. Enjoy!

p.s. Please beware that it was just a summary so some part is skipped.

Recap: The flags were dead.

Adam was walking on the street. He was holding a big bag in front of his body. What's inside were chocolate, hard candy and gummy bear. Adam bought it all for Chuuya because he knew humans need sugar in order to live and to stay happier.

'Good morning!' Adam shouted. He was in a church with a hundred participants. Youth choir was singing hymns and attendants were all wearing black clothings.

It was a funeral, with five coffins placed in the center.

'Chuuya-san, I am here to pick you up,' Adam said.

'Quiet! The funeral is in progress!' Chuuya said impatiently.

'There is some new information about Verlaine,' Adam replied.

Hence, shortly after, Chuuya followed Adam to go somewhere else which was quite far away from the church. Adam asked for Chuuya's permission to override his own command authority. By command authority, Adam explained that this was something written into his system, where he had an order of priority of certain people that he could listen to their commands. The first priority was always following the command of the investigation authority, and the second is Dr. Wollstonecraft. However, Adam wanted Chuuya to be the first priority for now.

Chuuya agreed, and the priority was then alternated, which Adam now called Chuuya as Chuuya-sama. The teen was slightly embarrassed by the new title.

'Can you change the way of how you call me?' asked Chuuya.

'Yes I can. This is just my default,' Adam answered, 'But you will no longer be my first priority.'

'What? That's so annoying. Nevermind then. Don't you have something about Verlaine to tell me?' said Chuuya.

'Yes I do. But may I take a gum before I do that?' Adam said. The robot seemed to like gum very much.

Adam pointed out that Verlaine probably hired a third party to assist him entering Japan. There were only very few illegal smuggling services which were not under the control of the Port Mafia, so it was actually fairly easy to find out which organisation helped Verlaine. Adam said he hacked the database of the police authority, and found the exact personnel who was hired by Verlaine.

'I am glad to know that you can actually do something,' Chuuya mocked.

Apart from hiring people to provide assistance on smuggling, Adam pointed out that Verlaine also asked those people to order three things for him.' The first one is four branches of white birch. Adam explained that there was also a white birch founded in the billiards bar, so he believed that the birch was actually a signature of Verlaine after completing a murder. Hence, there were supposed to have three birches left. Meanwhile, the other two things were entry licences of a car factory and an old fashioned blue colour flip phone.

'I know where he is,' Chuuya acknowledged something, 'Let's go,'

'Where are we going?' Adam asked.

Chuuya didn't answer. He grabbed Adam's final piece of gum, and put it into the mouth. Chuuya blew a bubble from his mouth, and Adam was shocked.

-

-

Inside the car factory, there was a teen working. He was grabbed by his manager because he wanted to invite him to have a meal after work. However, the teen was then brought to the meeting room. The teen saw someone.

'Chuuya...' the teen spoke.

'Shirase.' said Chuuya

-

-

Chuuya explained himself to Shirase because he knew Shirase was Verlaine's next target. Shirase was the reason why Chuuya joined the Mafia (as recalled from 15 years old). If Shirase was killed, then Chuuya no longer had a reason for staying in the mafia, such that Chuuya could leave with Verlaine.

Chuuya asked Shirase to help him, but Shirase refused because he hated Chuuya, and he did not want to be a bait either. He escaped by riding a bike so Adam and Chuuya chased afterwards. While Shirase was escaping, he was stopped at a police checkpoint.

'Shirase Buichirou! I am going to arrest you for keeping weapons illegally!' A police officer, roughly around his 40s and wearing a dark green outfit, said. Chuuya ran forward because he knew this officer.

'Hey- How are you Chuuya? Did you eat properly?' said the officer, 'You can't grow if you don't eat well.' They chatted as if old friends.

'I suspect you may be the accomplice of Shirase, so please come to the police station with me as well.'

Chuuya suddenly realised that such an arrest was not a coincidence. It was the factory manager who had plotted them.

-

-

Adam, Chuuya and Shirase were all in the police station. Apart from Shirase being detained, the rest of two were staying in the investigation room inside the station.

'Chuuya-sama.'

'...'

'Chuuya-sama.'

'what...'

'It's your turn. Our game of '"Discovery of human's uniqueness".'

Chuuya didn't answer.

'Then it's my turn,' Adam said. 'Hmm, I think what's special with humans is, they will be embarrassed by sounds that were made apart from their voice, such as the groans of their stomach.'

'Huh?' Chuuya was confused.

' "Huh" right? Thanks for responding to me,' said Adam.

The game continues.

'Shall we ban gaming next time?' said Chuuya.

'Is this an order?'

'Yes.'

'Understood, I will no longer play the game of "Discovery of human's uniqueness".' Adam answered.

'Why you look super sad...' Chuuya noticed the disappointment on Adam's face.

Chuuya proceeded to ask whether it was possible for Adam to ask for help from his own organisation, but Adam denied this possibility because the EUROPOLE was bound by a regulation of 'non infringing country's sovereignty' when the organisation was founded in the post-war period, so this strategy didn't work.

-

-

[Change in perspective] Here was an abandoned area, a piece of land that was forgotten by everyone. Different kinds of garbage was thrown here, regardless of transportation container or corpses. In the middle of this area, was where Dazai lived. He's living in a container, with basic furniture such as a fridge, fan, table, chairs and bed equipped, together with a small light bulb.

Suddenly, someone opened the door of the container.

'You are really living in an interesting place, Dazai-kun,' that person greeted, 'My god, why are you living in this place? To avoid tax or something?'

'I am afraid of you, Verlaine-san,' Dazai replied without a single emotion.

'Lie,' said Verlaine, 'I was trying to kill you two days ago, and you didn't feel anything back then.' Verlaine touched some documents on the desk, and those were the top secret of the mafia.

'Two days ago, I didn't kill you because you promised to give me these documents. I don't think you handed me this because you wanted my spare you right?' said Verlaine.

'It's simple,' Dazai said, 'I just want to see the Mafia burns.'

'Why?'

'I'm fed up,' Dazai looked at Verlaine for a second, 'I found nothing after all,' Dazia then murmured to himself.

'I see, I understand what you mean,' Verlaine, 'thanks for your cooperation, Dazai-kun.'

Verlaine flicked a coin, and boom, it exploded. All the surroundings apart from Dazai's container were blown up and gone, and Verlaine was about to leave

'Where are you going?' Dazai asked.

'You should have known right? To the police station,' Verlaine answered.

-

-

Chuuya was called into an investigation room to be questioned by that police officer, his name was Murase. The officer proposed an idea which he could set Shirase free, but in return, Chuuya needed to expose some secrets about the Mafia.

'Are you telling me to betray the Mafia?' said Chuuya.

'Just tell me and I let you and your friend go home,' the police officer was writing his report.

'Give me your pen,' Chuuya said calmly, then wrote 'eat shit' on the signature spot of the report.

-

-

Adam was somewhere near Shirase's detention. He hacked into the database of the police authority, and acquired the detaining number of Shirase, and successfully deceived the guards. Adam found Shirase, and was about to bring him away from the police station, but Shirase didn't look happy at all. Adam told Shirase that there was actually no need for him and Chuuya to protect him, but Chuuya wanted to protect him. Adam explained what happened during one year ago and revealed the reason why Chuuya joined the mafia to Shirase because Chuuya wanted to protect him.

Suddenly, when Adam and Shirase were about to leave, the teen said something.

'You... where have your left leg gone?' said Shirase.

Adam realised that the part beneath his left knee was gone, and he immediately fell down.

'Robot investigator is surely a tough job isn't it?' said by a voice.

'Verlaine...'

Adam could not handle the attack from Verlaine because he was using gravity control which made Adam not able to move.

'Don't... don't come near me!' Shirase was horrified.

'Shirase-kun, I have done research on you. You have known Chuuya for the longest in this city. Shirase-kun, please tell me, how was Chuuya when he was a kid?'

'We are... the founding members of The Sheep... and we thought Chuuya was just an orphan. He was the one who spoke to us first: "What's that brick?" Chuuya said that.'

'It was bread, we answered,' Shirase continued, ' "Do you wanna eat that?" I asked, and he said yes. The moment he wanted to move, and fell down and fainted. He was very thin and almost dead by then. Despite there were some members who objected to my idea , I found some food and water for him and brought him back to The Sheep.'

'You are Chuuya's brother right?' Why do you want to kill me? There was no one apart from me saving your brother! Is this how you return your favour?' Shirase yelled at Verlaine, but he didn't say a word.

'I understood, there is no common sense in this world. I am killed because I saved someone. Now, hurry up and kill me,' said Shirase.

Verlaine stepped forward and walked closer to Shirase. Adam calculated, and deduced that there were 168 possibilities, and among all of them, Shirase would be killed either way. It was impossible that the 169th possibility would occur.

Yet, Chuuya was here and kicked Verlaine off horizontally, and that's the 169th possibility.

A fight broke out between the brothers. Chuuya hit Verlaine harshly and violently, which made Adam think it was probably his first time seeing how a person could beat the assassin king that severely. The wall and the surroundings were destroyed by the battle.

'It has been a while since I last saw my blood,' Verlaine's voice sounds dry.

Chuuya aimed for Verlaine's arm, and punched it. He hit the wall as if touching the water surface and broke through it. That was unbelievable, Adam thought. Outside the wall was the car park of the police station, and Chuuya was hit by a car that was coming for him, and there were more cars incoming. Chuuya finally stopped attacking.

'Chuuya! Are you alright!' someone shouted from the back of the car park, it was Murase officer.

'Officer-san...why are you here? Don't come!' Chuuya yelled.

'Finally you are here,' Verlaine whispered.

Verlaine came forward to Murase-officer and grabbed his neck.

'Stop it!' Chuuya shouted, but it was too late. Murase officer was dead. Adam came forward to the body, and found a cross that was made by white birch. Chuuya was holding the body of the officer, and he found something inside the pocket. It was an old-style blue colour flip phone. That was the exact model that Verlaine acquired before he came to Yokohama.

Chuuya realised, the target of Verlaine was always Murase officer, and never was Shirase.

But why?

-

Code:02 Ended

[roversrovers]

could you talk more about time zone abolition please? im not sure what it really means

Yes of course! Thanks for asking! I tried to be as in-depth as possible but if there is anything you still don't understand feel free to ask, I will then try to find a way to explain it more clearly (maybe visualize it if that would help).

Disclaimer: I am not an expert or activist in this field. This is simply something I find personally interesting and this is just my personal opinion. I'm not trying to forcibly change something or make someone think a certain way. (You might laugh now but you'd be surprised at how angry people have gotten at me for this before).

So just to clear up some basics: Time zones are artificially drawn zones (based vaguely on the Earth's longitutes) that were originally invented during the rise of the railroad in the US to help with the train schedules and were quickly adapted across the globe with the rise of globalisation and capitalism because they necessitated more standards for time measuring.

These are our current time zones:

As you can see, most of them don't go straight down following the longitudes. They're adjusted (often crossing over other longitudes) to contain for example whole countries or states within one time zone.

You should be pretty clear on all this to understand my position.

Argument number 1 for why time zones suck, maybe the weakest one: Time zones are confusing. Scheduling global online events often results in confusion, flights across time zones leave people confused about the flight time or time of arrival, crossing time zones unknowingly can cause confusion... I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that everyone has had at least one moment in their life where time zones left them confused. So right off the bat, not a super system for such a globalised world. But I understand it might not be enough to convince you that they're not the best system out there.

Argument number 2: Time zones are, unfortunately, a source of political tensions. One fairly well-known example is Xinjiang time, a time zone followed mostly by the Uyghur people in China, but not without issues. Conflicts like this have been around for as long as time zones have existed and that is such a stupid and unnecessary thing to cause such problems.

Argument number 3, my main one: As mentioned before, time zones rarely just follow the longitude straight down. This is good for political and organisational reasons, but bad for humans. Because as much as we like to deny it, we are just animals, and like most animals we have a circadian rhythm. Simplified, our circadian rhythm is dictated by the motion of the sun across the sky. If left to their own, natural devices, our bodies like to wake up around sunrise and get sleepy a little while after sunset. Simplified. But that's logical, you probably think "Obviously" because yeah, duh.

The problem is, time zones do not follow solar time. But our bodies want us to.

This is a map that shows you how far off places across the globe are from following solar time. Meaning, how many hours difference is there between noon solar time and noon in their time zone. (check the creators blog for an explanation of the map)

Most places don't follow solar time. Shockingly many are hours off. This means that most people don't (and can't) follow their local solar time according to their circadian rhythm, which results in numerous health problems that are associated with insomnia and sleep deprivation like a higher risk of heart attacks for example (Note, this is still being researched so this isn't a "100% yes, these health issues definitely arise because of this" thing, this is a "things seem to point toward this connection but there's unfortunately many factors that play into health so this is hard" thing). And I think a lot of people can attest to the fact that bad sleeping habits can have horrible effects on mental health. And boy do time zones cause bad sleeping habits.

This is where a lot of people get real angry at me: What is my personal idea of a better system? (I'm not saying this is definitely the best, just my personal favourite)

One universal time + local solar time.

How does it work?

Every clock in the world follows a single 24 hour time, a Universal Time. Which means that 5am or 6pm or 3:30pm is always the same everywhere in the world. This time zone is only used for organisational reasons. Schedules, appointments, opening hours... all this is noted in Universal Time. Which means if an event that is hosted in India says "Tomorrow at 4pm" you know exactly when that is because it is also going to be 4pm for you, because all clocks say the same thing.

But this doesn't mean that everyone in the world has to get up and go to bed at the same time, regardless of whether it's day or night for them. The time on the clock is essentially meaningless. It could just as well say "Orange" instead of "One". It's just about having something that everyone knows and understands. In fact, we already do have that in a way. All time zones are based on the Coordinated Universal Time. We know what the time is because our clocks were based on this time, we just added our respective time zone. (A small note I don't wanna get into too much: Military, air traffic, the ISS and more already do follow UTC because it avoids confusion and is always the same for everyone no matter where they are.)

And how does the solar time play into this? The solar time is for you, your neighbourgood, your town or city. With time zones abolished, people are free(er) to follow their local solar time. For example, business are no longer under pressure to open at the same hour that a business 4 hours away (but in the same time zone) opens.

A hopefully helpful example:

Let's say 9am solar time is a comfortable time for a business to open and workers to start working because ideally, they might get up at 8am solar time for work (let's says that is around sunrise, a perfect time to wake up for our bodies). Right now, with time zones, that business is 3 hours away from the longitude that their time zone is based on, so they're 3 hours away from their local solar time. All businesses in this time zone open at 9am. However it isn't 9am local solar time for this business- it's 6am local solar time. So people have to get up at 5am local solar time, far away from what their natural circadian rhythm would like. That is the reality for plenty of places (as seen on the map). Now if there were no time zones, this business would have no reason to open up at the same time as a business 3 hours away. They could simply look at their local solar time and say "Okay, we open at 9am local solar time, because people get up around sunrise at 8am solar time in this area." So if anyone wants to know when this business will open (or when to start working) they can check the business hours and find a Universal Time. So for this place 9am solar time might be 5:38pm Universal Time. They might round that to 5:30pm Universal Time. And everyone in the world will know when this time is. So people working at this business might set their alarm for 4:30pm Universal time, almost 8am local solar time, just around sunrise.

So you'd only have to know your local solar time if you want to. You would essentially fall into the same rhythm as everyone around you. Think of it like the time before time zones: Time wasn't very standardised, so everyone just eyeballed what time of day it was. And you will always know what the Universal Time means. You will know what 3pm is for you (maybe for you it's the morning) but if you don't wanna, you don't have to know what solar time it would be for you. You'd just know "Oh yes that's the morning" or whatever. The same way that right now you know 6am means morning.

Time zones have only been around for around 150 years. In the grand scheme of human history, this is a joke. We came up with a system that seemed pretty straight forward at the time but through politics and whatnot we've bastardized it to the point where it's bad for us. And if, back then, we all managed, globally, to accept time zones, I think it's not utopian to believe we could, in theory, adjust to something else in the future. Especially something that comes so fundamentally natural to us as following solar time and our circadian rhythm.

Additional reading:

[blockgamepirate]

Hey, I just saw someone saying that Syndicate is kind of similar to a government because they are forcing their will onto others. You know about anarchy, can you please explain to me why it is not the case? (If it really isn't) I can't think of a reason myself.

I mean idk if I have any better answers than other people have already given?

Okay so I think what they want to say is that the Syndicate has power and is abusing said power. That's my charitable interpretation because honestly the whole government thing is just nonsense. Their entire MO is just get rid of government and then leave. There's no "governing" involved. They're not trying to govern people, they're trying to get the people to govern themselves as autonomous individuals.

I'd say you can criticise their tactics but we literally haven't seen their tactics in action. They just went to scout out Snowchester, decided that it was fine, and left it alone. There's no way of knowing how they'd approach a target that they deemed not fine, because they haven't done that yet.

We don't even know if they'll use the same tactics as Techno and Phil did on Doomsday because the Syndicate isn't just Techno and Phil, and Techno and Phil aren't static characters either: they've been talking about trying to improve the image of anarchism in the eyes of the rest of the server. And this time they presumably wouldn't be driven by revenge since nobody's hurt them since then.

Okay so do they have power? Yes, they have their skills and their gear and they have their organisation. What they don't have is institutional power. They have no legal system or law enforcement to back them up and they don't control things like citizenship either. They have power in the same way that revolutionaries and freedom fighters have power.

Is there a chance that they'll misuse that power? Possibly, I made a post earlier about how it's counterproductive to save people who don't want to be saved without even asking them first, even if it would be in their own interest in your opinion. Which is something to look out for. But that's a hypothetical situation, the Syndicate hasn't actually done that. We don't know if they would or not.

They could also use a disproportionate amount of force, but they haven't done that either.

But yeah, you can't actually dismantle power without using some form of power, that's kind of just how it works. It's like force in physics: you can't negate a force without an equal opposing force.

The trick it not to seize power afterwards.

Anyway sorry for the late response, hopefully it helped? Ngl im very sleepy rn

[cinnamon-medical]

Ruth's Random Rambles - Weeks idk

May 20th, 2022

I am back!

This few weeks were difficult, I am sorry about leaving you here. But I hope you will forgive me my absence.

I passed all of my credit tests, now, there are only 2 exams left. Both in one week.

I could use this as a summary of the 2nd semester at medical school. Summer semester was a bit calmer than the previous one. Even though we got new subjects, anatomy became more difficult, but still, I think I enjoyed it as much as possible.

Anatomy lecture on monday morning. Still in online form. But the professor promised next semester lectures will be in present form in university aula. I like it there, the atmosphere, memories from taking entrance exam....aaaah. This semester we studied internal organ systems. GIT, respiratory tract, urogenital tract, muscles etc. I liked it more than limbs. They were way too complicated. I must say our teacher at practicals in dissection room was great! I am already praying she will be with us next semester as well. She explained and showed us everything we wanted to know, told us what is necessary to remember, what they usually ask at credit tests and exams.... One thing I didn't like during lectures was that professors examined us, asked us many questions. For someone else it might be fine this interactive form, but I prefer to study anatomy at once, not by parts. So I do not prepare, study for every lesson, but I study after 2 or 3 lessons everything at once so I have it more compact.

Medical English. I think it was waste of time. If we studied medical vocabulary, terms, it would be much more useful. But the way the lessons were presented, to me, it felt like English for elementary school. We played games, the tests were a bit too easy. The only "productive" thing we did was presentation. The topic had to be anything medical. At least I passed with A, so I don't have to deal with this anymore.

Medical Informatics. Another waste of time, but this time, the teacher and whole department was too strict and tried to make informatics centre of our studies at faculty. We took 3 tests, the last one I didn't pass, so I had to retake it on Friday. Really, who wants to retake test on Friday?! Also, another presentation during week 14. 5 slides were enough so I could "slack" it a bit. But it was nightmare.

Mondays evenings were all about sports and body forming. So I wouldn't miss 2 credits, I had to take sports. It was fun! Even though mornings after were hard, but really, the trainer was great and fun to be with, understanding, really, I can't say anything bad about sports :) At least I had something that helped to take my mind off of studying and school.

Biology. This whole semester was about genetics. For me, it was pleasing, because I like solving problems in genetics. The only thing that bothered me was that the seminars were a bit too long. But otherwise, I found it really fine and if microbiology will be in the same form as this subject, I might enjoy it as well. Also, there is exam in front of me, which I have to pass, so I hope I will have enough luck.

Histology and Embrylogy. Practicals were very good. The teacher was very nice to us, helped us with everything and I felt that she is professional in her field. We had this friendly relationship with her. Also during the practical exam which was yesterday, she was kind, calmed us down. Really, she has every trait a good teacher has to have. The lectures, to be honest, I could do without them. The professor just told us everything we found in textbook, no facts, no explanation, she just told us the whole book from the memory.

And the last, Social medicine. My opinion is that this subject should be taken later during medschool. We talked about different minorities, how we are supposed to treat them, about the support from state, how affected families can ask for help, about organisations and support groups. It was fine subject, but not for this young students, who will see real patient in 3 years.

So, this is my quick summary of this summer semester. I hope the exams will be fine and that I will pass with ease.

Let the next semester be at least as good as this was!

Enjoy your summer fellow students! <3

[ak47stylegirl]

Doctors Appointment: Chapter 3

Okay guys, here’s the third chapter! I hope you guys enjoy this!!! 😁💙

First two chapters. 

@janetm74 @dragonoffantasyandreality @katblu42 @cg29 @alexthefly @inertplanetary ----

Scott stood with his arms crossed, watching with a worried frown as Alan’s doctor, Dr David, examined his baby brother. At this moment, Dr David was examining Alan’s joints, mainly his arms and legs. 

Alan’s eyes glanced over at Scott.

“Okay, tell me if any of this hurts, okay?” Dr David began to put pressure on Alan’s unbraced leg joints, feeling around with his fingers. 

Alan’s face was scrunched up in discomfort, slightly flinching each time pressure was applied to his limbs.

But then Dr David put pressure on Alan’s ankle joint-

“Ow! Ow!” Alan wailed from where he laid on the bed, tears gathering in his eyes. “Ow! That hurts! Stop!”

Dr David instantly took the pressure off, frowning as he gently examined them further. At the same time, Scott had rushed over to Alan’s side. 

“Shhh, it’s alright….” Scott whispered, brushing his fingers through Alan’s soft blond hair. “It’s alright….” 

Alan whimpered, pouting up at Scott in disagreement. 

Scott’s eyes saddened immensely at the sight, tilting his head slightly in sympathy. Oh, my poor little one…

You never should’ve had to deal with this...

Dr David sighed heavily, catching Scott’s attention in a snap. Scott’s stomach flipped at the deep frown on the doctor’s face as he typed his notes into his tablet. 

Alan’s joints have gotten worse, haven’t they?! 

Oh no, please no! 

Alan struggled enough.

Please...no...

“Well, unfortunately, I can’t see much improvement from last time…” Dr David explained sadly, placing his tablet back down, “There is some stiffness in Alan’s left knee, but overall not much has changed….” 

Scott let loose a sigh of relief, his shoulders dropping. While no improvement wasn’t good, it was better than the other option. 

Oh, so, so much better...

Alan blew out a frustrated breath, “Can...Can I sit up now?” Alan mumbled, looking up at the two adults. 

“Yes, of course….” Dr David nodded. 

Alan slowly sat up with Scott’s help, leaning his head heavily against Scott’s side with a weak groan. 

Scott’s eyes creased in sorrow, lips pressed tightly together as he stroked the back of Alan’s head. 

This was only the first part of the appointment, and Alan’s tolerance was already getting paper-thin. 

It didn't bode well…

Especially seeing as Alan’s appointment was actually multiple appointments.

First, there was the appointment with Dr David, Alan’s main specialist. The team leader of Alan’s health professionals. They had the main ‘check-up’ with Dr David, who checked all the basic things they needed to watch.

After that, Alan was handed over to the pathology lab for tests and scans. That usually took quite a while. 

Alan wasn’t overly fond of some of the tests, to say the least…

But once that was done, Scott and Alan would retire to a private hospital suite for a little break as Alan needed to rest.

Because if Alan didn’t get said nap, there would 100% be a massive meltdown. Like laying on the floor crying his eyes out, refusing to cooperate…

Lots and lots of screaming… 

So yes, Scott very much insisted on that break. 

(Though sometimes, even that didn’t stop the meltdowns from happening…)

The second main appointment of the day was with Dr Suzzy, Alan’s fitness/rehabilitation specialist.

It took place down in the hospital’s rehab gym, where Dr Suzzy would walk through a couple of simple exercises with Alan. Alan actually had a training schedule for home as well, created by both Virgil and Dr Suzzy. 

As their medic, Virgil pulled rank to be the one to help Alan with those exercises. 

Scott tried to help sometimes, but unfortunately, running a business and rescue organisation kept him tied down most of the time...

The guilt plagued him…

Gordon also helped out with those exercises at times, especially if the pool was involved. 

If there were two things that Gordon took deadly seriously, it was pool safety and looking after his only little brother. So you could be damn sure Gordon was going to be there. 

Don’t think you can stop him. He’s a sneaky one, and he bites.

Scott had a faint scar on his arm from a four-year-old Gordon to prove it. (It had happened shortly after mum died, Gordon had been having a bad day… he hadn’t meant it...)

Don’t mess with the Gordo; at times, he’s a cuddly squid and others…

Shark. 

Pure shark.

Anyway, after that appointment, it was onto the final and honestly worst part of the day.

Alan’s treatment. 

It would occur in the same hospital suite as before, with Alan hooked up to an IV containing his medication. It was a slow process, taking an hour or two. Alan typically spent that time cradled up in Scott’s lap, hugging his Thunderbird Three plushie. 

Virgil had gotten it for Alan when he was first diagnosed. 

Scott knew Virgil was tempted to get Alan the Thunderbird Two plushie instead but went with Three as that was Alan’s favourite ship.

Also, that before mentioned Thunderbird Two plushie?

It was sitting pride of place on Virgil’s bed. 

Because-

‘I couldn’t just leave it?! She was looking so sad sitting there!’

While Virgil needing to have the plush version of his bird was understandable, buying the whole store’s supply of plushies was a bit much.

Like seriously, Virg…

Most of those toys got donated to families that couldn’t afford toys or sick children in hospital. 

It ended up being a very good experience for everyone involved…

Virgil had personally gone to the hospitals himself, handing said plushies to the unwell kids himself. 

There were tears…

And the lucky survivors that remained either got a job as an International Rescue’s cuddle operative; tasked with comforting young rescuees.

Or adults, it has definitely happened before... 

And the last few were adopted by Gordon, whose bed was a sea of plushies. 

Scott would never know how Gordon could sleep in that bed…

But it was a pretty adorable sight, he will admit. 

Dr David put his stethoscope in his ears, “Okay, let’s have a little listen to that chest of yours, shall we?” 

The stethoscope was slipped up the back of Alan’s shirt-

“Cold!” Alan squealed, flinching away as the cold metal of the stethoscope touched his skin. “That’s freezing!” 

“Sorry, Alan…” Dr David smiled apologetically. “I’ll warm it up a bit next time, okay?” The stethoscope was placed against Alan’s skin once again.

“Now, deep breath in for me..” 

Alan’s eyes narrowed, a grumpy pout on his face as he took a deep breath. 

Scott sighed wearily, spotting a possible meltdown brewing on the horizon. He didn’t know when it would hit, but Scott knew that it would happen some way or another.

Alan was displaying all the signs…

Dr David moved the stethoscope around a couple of times, each time asking Alan to take a deep breath. By the time the doctor was finished, Alan was slightly out of breath. 

“Well, his heart sounds good, which is always a good thing….” Dr David slipped his stethoscope back around his neck. “But his lungs sound a little wheezy….” 

Scott frowned in concern. 

“Has he been sick in the last week or so?” Dr David asked Scott, once again typing down notes on his tablet. “Cold? Flu?” 

Alan shuttered with a grimace. 

Being completely knocked down with the flu or cold was horrible for anyone. Let alone for someone like Alan, who had a weak immune system…

Scott’s eyes slipped close briefly as he nodded, 

“Yeah…” Scott replied, remembering that week well. “He was unwell with a bad cold about a week and a half ago….” 

It hasn’t been fun... 

“I figured as much,” Dr David remarked, putting his tablet down, “Nothing to be concerned about, as I’m sure Dr Tracy wouldn’t let her grandson out of her care otherwise….”

Scott chuckled in agreement. Grandma was a force to be reckoned with when it came to matters of health. 

And she had a pupil called Virgil. 

“But if it’s not gone by this time next week, I would advise getting it checked….” Dr David suggested as he set up the blood pressure monitor. 

Scott nodded thoughtfully, “Will do….” 

And seeing as they had a doctor in the house, and most of them were trained medics or EMTs, Scott had no doubt that Alan would get the best care possible. 

He would personally make sure of that…

TBC..

[scripttorture]

You likely don't follow Dream Smp but there was just a reveal that one person (Character A) is torturing another (Character B, former villain, now in prison) for info on necromancy while the warden of the prison gave CA the equipment to do it and is ignoring CB's screams for help. And half the fandom is trying to justify it with "oh, CB deserves it for threatening to kill a child, killing (1/2)

another child (who he then revived, not justifying /that/ though) and manipulating/abusing the latter." Not only that, but so many people are telling off anyone who pointing out how messed up it is (and don't worry, the story itself so far is showing that it's messed up and won't work) with "it's just fiction, get over it." Like I am legit concerned over how many people are claiming it's cathartic and the character deserves it for their actions. Rant over I guess (2/2) (Dream smp anon) And I forgot to add that this character was /already/ being tortured; he has been in complete solitary confinement for upwards of 2 months and is being starved) and was actively self-harming and destroying items in his cell in a bid to get the warden to come replace them (looking for social interactions, even if it was negative) and people STILL thought that wasn't "enough of a punishment"

-

I have no idea what this show? Comic? Piece of media is but I’m happy to give my opinion on the general situation and use of violence in fiction*.

 But I’m not here to take sides in fandom wars and the aim of this blog is not to tell people they can’t write about violence or abuse. It’s to make people think about how it’s used in stories and hopefully create something that’s more realistic and respectful to real survivors.

 At the end of the day the reason I’m interested in fiction is because it effects our perception of real survivors. When so much of our popular media is unrealistic in ways that demean survivors that has an effect. I want to remind people that while the violent acts we write about are fiction, similar acts are happening to real people today.

 Torture survivors are real. They’re human and they deserve respect.

 Here’s the thing Anon, the people you’re mad at are real too. And the characters that sparked this are not.

 There’s nothing wrong with having a strong emotional respond to fiction. There’s nothing wrong with getting frustrated with how pigheaded or outright bigoted fandom can be. But it is worth questioning whether responding to this kind of thing is worth it.

 Arguments over fictional characters can become extremely heated and result in real world harm. And so long as you’re engaging with stuff in a purely fictional context… well I think the chances of being dismissed, belittled etc are significantly higher. (Note however that being dismissed and belittled still happens when you’re dealing with torture in the real world.)

 This is not fair. That does not change other people’s responses or the cultural climate.

 I will be blunt; if you are writing and reading in English the majority of fans you deal with will be Western and white. I have personally found this intersection very likely to treat violence as something purely fictional. I have found them unlikely to consider torture as a reality unless they are prompted to.

 And from my side of things that prompting is often like dropping an anvil on someone’s foot during the conversation.

 Believe me I get it. It is infuriating to see real, deadly torture techniques interpreted as harmless. It is hurtful seeing torture victims blamed for their own suffering. This happens on the news as often as it does in fandom so the fact these feelings are being set off by something fictional doesn’t make a lot of difference. Because these arguments are used in the real world against real people.

 Seeing torture apologia touted as this weeks hot take is something you are allowed to be mad about. I’d be a hypocrite if I said otherwise.

 But educating other people is hard work and you are talking about a piece of media aimed at children. You are probably talking to children. If you’re a teenager yourself it might be hard to hear it put like that.

 It’s still true.

 If you really want to have these conversations in your fandom then you need to centre the reality. Underestimating or dismissing the damage solitary confinement and starvation do to people is serious because it props up real world systems of abuse. Because it justifies ‘tough’ sentences to level of isolation that leave people mutilated by their own hand, or unable to function in society. Or dead. Because it leads to doctors ‘prescribing’ diets used in death camps.

 Here’s the thing, talking about that reality to children is a fraught process. Especially when they’re children who don’t have any experience of seeing this stuff. And unless you’re their parent or teacher educating them is not your job.

 Sending them down an internet rabbit hole that leads to photos of real injuries, real torture, real mass graves… I think that has the potential to go very badly.

 Enjoying something and then discovering that the fandom is toxic is unpleasant. But my impression is that’s the problem here: the fandom interactions are leaving you feeling like shit.

 Disengage.

 You do not need the fandom to enjoy uh… whatever Dream smp is. You do not need their permission and if the fandom is a negative space for you, you are allowed to leave.

 If some of these people are your friends then by all means try to privately explain why their words hurt you and use this blog as a resource. But ask yourself how much you want to be friends first because that is a long painful process that might not work.

 Torture apologia is everywhere and fixing it is going to take decades.

 Accept that you can not control other people’s actions. Accept that some people will always be assholes.

 If seeing torture apologia hurts you then… you probably need to find a piece of media without torture to enjoy. Because apologia is so present that I think that’s the only way to completely avoid coming across it in fandom.

 Once again I understand. I’ve volunteered to be bombarded with this stuff every day. It is upsetting. It is also embedded our global culture and the popular media exported to every single nation on the planet.

 Constantly being confronted with it and stewing in that anger and hurt is unhealthy.

 Step back. Do something else for a while. Take a look at this post I made last week. You might find some of the advice on dealing with these feelings helpful.

 You can not make people care. Hopefully most of the people you’re talking to will grow and learn and become more compassionate people. But you can’t force that process.

 And you don’t have to deal with their bullshit while they’re still growing.

 Shouting at other people isn’t always helpful and it isn’t activism. If you want to do something constructive there are a lot of organisations that would gladly accept your money and your time.

 Here’s a couple that seem relevant:

Just Detention

Solitary Watch

The World Food Programme

Amnesty International

 I hope that helps. :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

*I asked a friend to explain what Dream Smp is and I’ll be honest I still don’t understand it. But hey I got an idea of the target audience which helps. Please don’t explain Minecraft to me any more let me rest.

[fullmetalscullyy]

the way it was - chapter 41

summary: what if riza never went to war? riza hawkeye has just married the man she loves. six months into their marriage, an unexpected surprise stops her from following roy to the military. a canon divergence au that explores what might have happened had riza been unable to join the military. there will be plenty of family fluff, angst, and royai.

rated: m | warnings: graphic depictions of violence (updated)

read on ao3

1915

 and i’ll see you in the high and low

 in the high and low i’ll find you

“Are you ready?”

“Hm?” Roy’s head turned towards her. She’d broken him out of his thoughts. His expression had been miles away as he sat on the edge of his hospital bed in quiet contemplation. Riza was curious about what had taken up so much of his attention but didn’t enquire. If he wanted to share, he would.

“I asked if you were ready to go,” she explained softly.

“Oh, yes.” Roy straightened his spine and placed both hands flat on his thighs. “I’m ready.”

Riza took his hand in hers and angled her body so they were walking side by side. Her other hand rose to grasp his elbow, cradling it within her palm.

“Thank you,” Roy smiled. He gave her hand a tiny nudge with his elbow.

“It’s no problem, Roy. You know that.”

“I know, but you’ve helped me so much and without complaint.”

Riza laughed to herself. “I’m happy to help.”

“How is your neck? And your shoulder? Let me know if you need to stop or sit down.”

“They’re fine, Roy. There’s no pain. And I will, don’t worry.”

Yesterday while they’d been on their first walk out of their room Riza had a sudden bout of light-headedness. They’d been on their way to a payphone to finally call Chris, after a few days of no contact. Breda had appointed himself their liaison and provided her with an update on their current situation, as both Roy and Riza had been on bedrest since their arrival. They were itching to speak to her, and possibly speak to Mia, but it hadn’t come to pass. On their way there Riza had clumsily fallen into a chair as her vision blurred into a solid grey colour, letting go of Roy and frightening him with her abrupt silence. The feeling had passed over her in a slow wave as she clutched at her forehead. It was painless but disorientating. While Roy had frantically called her name, a nurse found them and recognised Riza’s signs. She placated Roy with a quick explanation as Riza was unable to do it herself. All of her focus was on breathing and not passing out, so was unable to formulate any kind of sentence. They both were promptly whisked back to their room after that and it seemed Roy wouldn’t be quick to forget about that incident.

She’d lost a lot of blood, so her body was still trying to recover it, the doctor had explained. Riza started to worry she may be kept in longer than Roy. Of course, she was concerned for herself and her own wellbeing. The sooner she recovered, the sooner her children could come home to her. But, if Roy was discharged by himself… Their home wasn’t equipped for housing someone who was blind. She had to get things organised, rearrange rooms, create paths for him…

And then there was their children to think about as well. She couldn’t take care of them while being so weak. Thankfully, they were still in Xing with Chris and the girls. Riza would love for them to come home, but it wasn’t feasible or practical. If they did they’d have to stay with Chris and both parents knew Mia would be wondering where they were. She’d be constantly asking after them. To save her any worry and stress, they agreed, if it was all right with Chris, to keep them both in Xing until they left the hospital. It saved them giving an explanation to a child who was too young to understand properly what had happened to them.

Breda confirmed Chris had agreed to that plan. She’d been thinking the same thing too. Riza was grateful to have one weight lifted off her mind, but all those thoughts and worries were still threatening to give her a headache.

“What are you thinking about?” Roy’s expression was one of concentration, as if he were listening to something intently. However, she hadn’t said a word or uttered a sound.

One thing that did strike Riza was he could still pick up on a shift in her mood. It may not be the same as before, but it made her smile to know there was still some sort of connection between them.

But that smile quickly fell.

“The future,” Riza replied.

Roy patted her arm in sympathy and understanding. He kept it there too, which was a comfort. He was supporting her, as she was doing the same to him.

“I was thinking about when we’ll be discharged,” she elaborated further. “About whether or not we’ll leave at the same time, or if one of us will go first.”

“I was wondering that too,” Roy admitted. “The doctors are pleased with your progress, but you lost a lot of blood and –” He cut himself off for a moment, swallowing thickly as he stumbled over the memory of their time in the tunnels. “And you need time to recover. It’s a large wound, they tell me.” The pressure on her forearm increased. “They need to keep you in for further observation to ensure it doesn’t get infected.”

Riza knew all of this already but reasoned if it helped Roy to find some semblance of peace to go through everything aloud then she wouldn’t take that away from him.

“My hands are still pretty bad too,” he added. “The surgery went well but there was a lot of damage. I need to be kept in for them, not to mention for rehabilitation as well.”

“I just don’t want you to be sent home without me,” she admitted quietly.

“I know. I don’t particularly want to go home by myself either.” He chuckled to himself, “I would be a walking hazard without you.”

She appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood, however, the worry still weighed heavily on her mind.

“I don’t think they would let me leave without some kind of system of care in place though,” Roy mused.

“Once your hands are better you’ll need to start practicing with your cane.”

He pouted playfully. “But you’re a much preferable guide.”

Riza smirked. “Unfortunately, I can’t be with you every minute of every day.”

Roy hummed. “I don’t know, that does sound pretty wonderful to me.”

“You know what I mean,” she scolded lightly, but let out a light laugh.

“I know, love,” he reassured with a smile. “How do you feel about us potentially training Hayate to help me out around the house?”

Riza bit her lip. “That’s a lot to put on him.”

“I don’t mean full-time. It was mostly for helping me move around.”

“He’s not trained for that though,” she argued.

“It was just a thought.” He lifted a hand in surrender. “Obviously if you’re not happy with it then we won’t. My only thought was he’s such a good dog already and can listen very well. He’s so attentive. He’d probably work very well as a service dog.”

“With the correct training from the correct people, he probably would, yes.”

“I don’t think it would work out anyway,” Roy sighed heavily.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” She was confused.

“Can you imagine me trying to take Mia’s best friend away from her?”

Riza snorted lightly. “They are inseparable,” she agreed.

“No, I couldn’t tear those two apart. That wouldn’t be fair. Who knows,” Roy shrugged, “it may come naturally to us. Anyway, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I can ask for an update and a time estimate from the doctors this afternoon. That may put our minds at rest a little?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Riza nodded. “It would be nice to know some kind of timeframe, if possible, and find out what we have to work with.”

“And we won’t be without help. The team has already discussed this scenario too, apparently.”

Riza cocked her head towards him in surprise.

“If I was to be discharged first, they offered their assistance at home. Rebecca did too. Although,” Roy smirked, “I think she only wants to make sure I don’t destroy the place on your behalf,” he quipped.

“They really offered?”

Roy nodded. “They’re happy to help out.”

Riza was touched. A fond smile spread across her face as she thought of the men who’d devoted their lives to her husband. She knew they were close but hadn’t realised that would extend to outside their work lives as well. Riza didn’t know why though, she suddenly thought. They already thought of themselves as unofficial uncles to Mia, and now to Maes as well. They’d also already offered such assistance to her when Roy was in the hospital last year. After that realisation, Riza supposed it would be a natural progression. Her smile grew wider.

“They’re a good group of people.”

Roy hummed in agreement. “The best group of people.”

They continued on their walk and reached their destination, a payphone.

“We’re here.”

“Trip number two was a success,” he beamed.

“It was, thankfully,” Riza chuckled. She guided Roy over to a chair beside the phone and sat him down. Rebecca had brought her purse in from home, so Riza rummaged around within for the spare change she needed to make the call.

The phone rang four times before someone answered.

“Hello?” The gruff voice on the other side of the line made Riza smile immediately. It was a welcome sound and a voice she’d missed hearing.

“Chris? It’s Riza.”

She didn’t speak until after a short pause. “Riza?” Before she could open her mouth to confirm, Chris called Vanessa’s name, Riza assumed over her shoulder, holding the receiver away. “Good to finally hear from you, Riza.

“I know. Sorry it’s been a while.”

Chris scoffed. “No need to apologise for that. Breda has kept me up to date. How are you doing?”

We’re okay.” She glanced over at Roy who was trying to listen in to their conversation. “A little beat up, but all right.”

“Beat up?” Her question was short and sharp.

Perhaps Breda hadn’t shared some of the finer details with Chris.

“Yes. I sustained some injuries, but they’re being treated. We’re calling from the hospital.”

“And Roy? How’s he?”

Breda definitely hadn’t shared all of the details.

“Lieutenant Breda only really told me you were alive and would be all right,” Chris continued.

Riza could appreciate that. How does one stranger tell another that their son was now blind and their daughter-in-law suffered life threatening injuries?

She glanced over at Roy, noticing how his lips were pressed into a thin line. He gestured for the phone. It was time for him to break the news of his new condition.

“He wants to tell you himself,” she replied carefully.

Chris was quiet for a second. “All right.” Her words were sombre as she spoke.

“Hi, Chris,” Roy greeted.

Riza silently remained by his side. She placed a hand atop his head as he informed his mother that he was now blind and what had happened to his hands. Her fingers ran through his hair, playing with his dark tresses to try comfort and soothe him.

“Yeah… We won.”

A proud smile spread across Riza’s face as Roy broke their other news.

A chuckle left him as Chris spoke again. “I know, I know,” Roy relented. “There’s a long way to go yet, but yes, we did it. The plan succeeded.”

They spoke back and forth for a few more moments before Roy paused.

“Mia?” Roy’s head turned towards Riza’s body, facing into her stomach. Her fingers froze in his hair as she spotted his expectant look. Riza’s heart leapt into her throat. “Yes, please. If you could put her on.”

There was a sudden movement that disrupted Riza from her thoughts. Roy had felt out the chair next to him and slid over. The one he’d vacated was offered to Riza, and she took it immediately. The cord of the phone was long enough so they could sit with their heads together and place the phone in between them, letting both parents speak to their daughter.

The other line was quiet. Riza held her breath and waited. There was some shuffling then they heard Mia speak in a quiet voice, sounding far away.

“Mia?” Riza’s voice caught in her throat as she spoke her daughter’s name with so much hope and excitement. She was almost overwhelmed with how much she missed her children and couldn’t wait to hear her voice again.

“Mummy?”

Relief like no other flowed through Riza’s veins. She relaxed completely into her chair with her elation. “Mia, hi. It’s Mum. Dad’s here too.”

“Hey, Mia,” he greeted. Roy’s voice sounded thick as he spoke but there was the widest grin on his face.

“Hi!” Her reply was bright and excited, nothing like the shy, tentative tone she’d used to first greet them. “I miss you!”

“I know, sweetie. I know, we miss you too. So much.”

“It’s been a long time since we talked, but Grandma said that’s okay because it means I would have a lot more to tell you when you phoned, and we could talk for longer!”

Both parents laughed together. Riza’s eyes closed as she leaned her head against Roy’s. His arm wrapped around her shoulders tightly.

“We could talk to you forever, Mia,” Roy replied, “and we’d be more than happy to do it. How are you?”

“I’m okay! I’ve been having lots of fun.”

“That’s great,” Roy exclaimed. “I’m so happy that you have.”

“We’ve done loads since we last spoke! We’ve been to the park near the hotel almost every day. We’ve been to Xingese temples too which were so pretty! I want to go back but Grandma says we’ve got lots of other things to visit first before we can –”

Mia went on and on, regaling them of things she��d done since they last spoke. Both parents relaxed against one another, content and happy to let her speak and listen to all of her adventures. Riza had missed hearing about them.

“When will we get to come home?”

“We don’t know yet, Mia,” Riza answered after a brief pause. “You sound like you’re having too much fun to come home,” she quipped.

“I am, but I miss you! Maes does too. And I miss Hayate.”

Riza felt a pang in her chest. “I know you do. We miss you both terribly as well. But, if you hand the phone back to Grandma we can talk about when you might be able to?”

“Okay! She’s right here.”

“Goodbye, Mia Bear. I love you,” Riza added.

“Love you,” Roy chimed in, eager to say it himself.

“Love you too. Bye!”

Riza exhaled and tipped her head back. Roy gave her shoulders a quick squeeze, understanding every emotion she was currently going through, as he was experiencing the same. It was such a relief to hear Mia’s voice again after so long and to know she was happy, healthy, and okay.

“She’s a little whirlwind,” Chris remarked with a chuckle.

“Thank you for giving her the phone,” Roy replied.

“Of course, Roy Boy,” she dismissed, as if it were obvious she was going to do it in the first place. “Plus, she’s been pestering me non-stop for another chance to speak to you both,” Chris chuckled. “She’s taken it well though. There’s not been too many complaints.”

“What do you mean?” Roy was instantly alert. Riza shot him a worried look. He looked similar to how she felt. Was Mia doing okay?

“Relax,” Chris soothed in her gravelly voice. “She’s been fine. She’s a good and patient kid. Very understanding too. She’s missed you, that’s all. A typical kid thing.”

Roy exhaled in relief.

“When do you think you’ll be out of there?”

“We don’t know. I’m going to ask for an estimate this afternoon on when they think we’ll be discharged. Obviously with my blindness we’ll need to figure out the house first and then come up with some kind of plan to tell Mia…” Roy trailed off, realising that it may be even longer before they see their children.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” Chris announced firmly. “We’ve got more than enough to do over here to keep the kids occupied. You two focus on making yourselves better, all right? The more you do, the sooner they can come home. Let me know what the doctors say though, then we can take it from there.”

“Okay,” Roy exhaled. His shoulders settled and Roy nodded like all his fears had been alleviated somewhat. Chris’ support was extremely helpful and meant a lot as they tried to adjust to their lives now. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, kid. We’ll get everything figured out and I’ll bring them back to you as soon as I can. Take care of yourselves.” The last part was almost a warning.

“We will. You too. And thank you, Chris.”

They shared a quick goodbye and hung up. Their walk back to the hospital room was quiet as they contemplated their conversation with Chris and Mia. It had been so lovely to hear their voices again. It had been too long, but there wasn’t much they could do about that. The important thing was it had happened, and they’d been able to speak with their daughter.

Once back in the room, Riza had finished helping Roy get settled when there was a knock at the door.

“Sir?”

“Come in, Fuery,” Roy beckoned.

His head popped around the door. He held onto it as he looked inside the room but didn’t take a step further inside. “Sir… Doctor Marcoh has just contacted us.” Fuery shifted and his expression turned hopeful for a second. “He has… a proposition for you. Regarding your eyes.”

Riza’s eyebrows lifted towards her hairline but Fuery didn’t let on anything further. Roy went still as he processed what Fuery had said.

“The stone?” His voice was low, almost reverent. Riza wasn’t sure what they were referring to, however from the way Roy spoke she could discern there was some gravity behind his words.

Fuery nodded. “Yes. He’s on his way in just now and wishes to speak to you, if that’s all right?”

“Yes, of course. Bring him in once he’s arrived.”

“Of course, sir.” Fuery left them in silence, closing the door quietly behind him.

“The stone,” Riza echoed, looking for further clarification.

Roy paused but then nodded. “Yes. It’s… Well, it may be a way for me to get my sight back.”

*      *      *      *      *      *      *       *      *      *      *

“Colonel? Riza?”

Riza looked up from the book on her lap as Breda’s head poked through the door.

“Oh.” Breda lowered his voice suddenly. “I didn’t realise he was asleep. Sorry,” he cringed.

She shot him a smile to placate any worry. “It’s okay,” Riza replied softly. She marked her place in the book with a finger so as not to lose it. “What’s up Breda?”

“Doctor Marcoh has arrived.”

Riza inhaled and nodded, understanding what that announcement meant. Roy would be getting his eyesight back today.

They’d spoken with Doctor Marcoh last week about using the stone. It was decided Havoc would be healed first, then Roy. They had to wait for him to arrive in Central, but Havoc’s procedure to return his ability to walk had been a success a few days ago. He was currently being monitored a few rooms down from them. Now, the Philosopher’s Stone would be used to give Roy his eyesight back.

“I understand,” she replied to Breda. “Thank you for letting us know.”

“There’s also someone else,” he interjected. “General Grumman has come for a visit. He’d like to visit as soon as possible if that’s all right with you both.”

That surprised Riza, however, it made sense if Grumman had been a mentor to Roy for years prior to their move to Central.

“Thank you, Breda. Can you give us ten minutes then send General Grumman in?”

“Will do.”

The door closed quietly behind him and Riza sighed as she stared down at her husband’s sleeping face.

In hospital Riza hadn’t needed to worry too much about Roy’s movements around the room without aid. It was mostly bare, aside from a chair and two beds, so the space was large enough to manoeuvre himself around safely. Regardless of that fact, Riza was always by his side to assist when needed. With the injuries on his hands, he’d been unable to hold a walking cane, but he was improving every day. However, she couldn’t help but run through plans in her mind for what would happen when they returned home. She’d need to reorganise and repurpose rooms. There would need to be clear pathways throughout their home which Roy could use and not hurt himself. Mia and Maes’ toys would need to be moved and placed in designated areas. They didn’t need him tripping over a stray soft bear or sliding on a forgotten pencil. Riza hadn’t had a chance to think about how they’d even begin to tell Mia that their father was blind. Now… She may not have to.

It was a bizarre concept, being able to cure the incurable so easily. She’d been made aware of what went into the Philosopher Stone and it set her on edge. It wasn’t right and Riza could never look at the stone for too long as it made her uncomfortable. However, it was Roy’s decision to use it. He didn’t like the thought of using the stone any more than she did, but it would restart him on a path they thought was lost to him. He’d still be able to remain in the military and work towards what he’d always wanted to do. And Roy was determined;. mMore than determined. As soon as the possibility had been planted inside his mind Riza could see him seriously considering it. Not much would turn him away from the prospect.

Ultimately, using the stone was on his conscience, not hers. But Roy’s was bearing the weight of so much already… However, it was his choice. He had plans, goals, ambitions… All to better this country and stop history from repeating itself. The stone would help, but was the moral cost worth it for him?

“Whatever it takes,” he’d informed her. His tone was determined, but there was a glimmer of grim acceptance in there too.

Riza reached over to gently place her hand on top of Roy’s in the bed. Her thumb swiped over the back of it as she tried to coax him awake. She’d decided sitting by Roy’s bedside in a chair rather than remaining in her own bed was easier to talk to the room and to him. In her own bed she was constantly twisting and turning her head and that was not the best course of action currently.

“Roy?”

He grunted softly in reply, stirring from his slumber.

“Roy, time to wake up.”

A feeble moan left him. His eyes opened briefly but fluttered closed as he quietly sighed and gave into the hold sleep still had on him.

“Roy.” Riza laughed quietly at his sleepy expression. She gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “Doctor Marcoh is here to see you.”

She let that news sink in slowly and eventually he sighed. His eyes batted open groggily. “Okay, I’m up,” he grumbled.

“Did you sleep well?”

His head turned in her direction and he smiled. “I did. I didn’t even realise that I had.”

“You were pretty out of it,” Riza added.

“Your voice is so soothing and comforting to listen to, that’s why,” he grinned as Riza’s cheeks heated up slightly. “Did you keep reading ahead?”

“After you fell asleep I stopped reading aloud and continued on. It’s a good story. I like it.”

“I like it too. I like hearing you read it to me.”

“I can go back,” Riza revealed. “I marked where we finished together. I wouldn’t want you to miss the rest of the story.”

“You’re too good to me.”

Riza stood from her chair and slowly approached him. She placed a hand on his forearm, her touch feather light before increasing the pressure. A finger tapped his skin three times. Recognising her signal Roy inhaled in anticipation. Ever so softly she pressed her lips against his.

She hadn’t wanted to potentially frighten him with sudden touches after the Promised Day. Not while he was blind and not after the beating he’d received at the hands of Father while blind either. Riza had picked up on the fact he jumped whenever someone placed a hand on him without announcing themselves, so she’d come up with a code. With coded messages, they used two taps. With three taps, she announced she would be coming in for a kiss. All of her touches were soft, and she always made sure to announce herself with her voice before initiating contact.

“I love you, Roy.”

He stole another kiss with a grin. “Love you too.”

“Not only is Doctor Marcoh here, but General Grumman is as well. I’ve asked Breda to send him in shortly.”

Roy’s body stilled. “General Grumman?”

“I don’t know why,” Riza shook her head. “Breda only told me he was here to see you.”

With a sigh Roy sat up on his bed. He groaned and grimaced as the movement hit some of his aches and pains. Enough time had passed that their muscles had recovered, but there were still some bruises and stiffness.

Riza’s hand never moved from Roy’s forearm and she slid it slowly up his arm to give him some comfort. Her own injuries were much better. The strength of her painkillers had been reduced dramatically and the injuries were healing nicely. The skin around the one on her neck was pink and healthy, while the one on her shoulder was starting to heal over.

“I suppose I better make myself presentable for the General,” Roy grumbled.

Riza nodded and her hand slid away from his body.

While Roy rubbed his eyes tiredly Riza was struck with how similar he looked to Mia when she awoke in the morning. After their conversation on the phone Riza had made a point to call Chris every day. She couldn’t go that long again without speaking to Mia again. They’d even heard Maes gurgle happily through the receiver. Roy had gently but clumsily wiped away her tears after it. He’d accidentally poked her in the eye, which earned a giggle from them both, cheering Riza up a little. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

“Colonel,” General Grumman greeted warmly as he entered the room. “Mrs. Mustang.” He bowed his head respectfully towards her.

“General, sir,” Roy welcomed.

“Good day, General,” Riza nodded.

“At ease, Mustang,” Grumman replied, waving Roy off as his hand lifted to salute while sitting up straighter in his bed.

“Understood.”

Riza watched on with interest. It was intriguing to note how much Roy’s voice changed whenever he was talking to a colleague or a superior. It was funny to think about, remembering just how goofy and dorky he could be with her and their family. It was not a bad thing he was acting differently. It was another part of him, and that part had always intrigued and fascinated Riza. She sat back in her chair to observe their conversation quietly.

“How are you doing, Mustang?”

“Well, sir. Just a few aches and pains but nothing major.”

The General lifted an eyebrow in doubt, making Riza wonder if he was already aware of his lost eyesight. She figured that at this point in time it would be common knowledge. Especially to the likes of General Grumman.

“Losing one’s eyesight would be considered major, Colonel.”

“I’m alive,” Roy replied with determination. “That’s enough for me for the moment.”

Riza kept her mouth shut about Doctor Marcoh’s visit. She already felt like she was privy to a conversation she shouldn’t be a part of so let them converse in peace.

“Mrs. Mustang?”

Her head lifted, surprised that the General had anything to say to her.

“If you wouldn’t mind, could I borrow you for a moment?”

Out the corner of her eye, Riza noted how Roy’s brow furrowed in confusion slightly at the request.

“There’s something I wish to discuss with you in private, if that’s all right?”

“Anything you have to say can be said in front of my husband, General,” Riza replied evenly.

In all honesty… She didn’t really want to be left alone with her grandfather. After her sudden phone call and his reaction to it, Riza thought he knew who she was but couldn’t be sure. The question was, did she have the energy to have that family discussion with him? Probably not. Regardless, it was true. She had no secrets to hide from Roy.

Grumman looked stumped for a second before he recovered. “Yes, of course. It’s regarding us.”

Roy tried to hide it but Riza could tell he was becoming even more confused.

“Yes?”

“Our paths have unfortunately never crossed in the past. There were various reasons for that, mostly tied with your parents.”

Roy’s head cocked to the side ever so subtly as he tried to put two and two together.

“I apologise for not coming forward to you sooner. I have my own reasons for that too, but wanted to apologise for not contacting you when I should have.” He looked and sounded sincere enough as he spoke.

“And when would that have been?” Riza was curious as to when he felt he “should” have reached out to her.

“News of your father’s passing reached me months afterwards. I thought that would’ve left you with no one, but I had no way of finding out where you were. Then Mustang breezed in and wouldn’t shut up about his wife and kid,” Grumman chuckled, gesturing towards Roy, who’d gone incredibly still. “And I overheard Lieutenant Catalina on the phone to you and say your name. I caught Mustang showing off a picture of his wife one time and finally recognised you.” He took a deep breath, meeting her gaze. “You look exactly like your mother.”

A lump suddenly formed inside Riza’s throat.

“So, I’ve been aware of you and your tie to Mustang for some time. And I’m sorry for not reaching out sooner.”

“Thank you, sir.” Her reply was even and polite. She held no grudge against this man, but she couldn’t trust him so easily. If he wanted to be a part of her life then he’d have to earn a place in it.

“I hear you have some wonderful children.” He shot her a toothy grin. “Congratulations, Riza. I’m extremely happy for you.”

At the mention of them, Riza’s stomach tightened but slowly loosened. Her expression softened and she nodded. “They are wonderful,” she agreed.

“I expect nothing in return,” Grumman reassured, lifting his hands as if surrendering. “Too much time may have passed, which I completely understand. But since I had the chance, I wanted to see you and speak to you at least once – and properly this time.”

“Thank you for that favour on the Promised Day,” Riza replied. “I really appreciated you trying to get through to Roy.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “It was the least I could do for my granddaughter.”

Finally, Roy clicked. His head had bowed to face the bed in silence but Riza knew his mind was moving a mile a minute, overflowing with questions. He wasn’t the only one, however, Riza had already dwelled on her musings about her grandfather years ago. It brought the questions back up to the surface, but she didn’t have the energy to be angry or upset at him for not contacting her. Like Grumman said, too much time had passed anyway. It was all in the past now.

“I hear Doctor Marcoh is here to see you,” Grumman announced, clearing his throat. “I’ll get going and let him get to work.”

Riza stood and approached her bed without a word. On the table beside it was her purse, which she reached for. Two pictures of their children were extracted from within and Riza turned to face her grandfather.

“Would you like to see your great grandchildren before you leave?”

He looked incredibly surprised by her offer. Riza may not have been able to trust him so easily but he’d reached out to her. He’d made an effort at least. Yes, it was late, and he may have some motive behind this meeting, but Riza would extend him the same courtesy he’d given her. She didn’t entirely trust his motives, but he’d acknowledged they were family and seemed genuine enough while discussing it. The least she could do in return was show him his great grandchildren.

Grumman nodded and Riza walked over to him. She handed the pictures over and heard him gasp. In the corner of his eyes there were tears, but they never fell.

“Mia and Maes,” Riza stated, pointing to each of them.

“They look like wonderful children,” he replied. His tone was respectful but held a hint of awe within it.

“They are,” Riza smiled fondly, gazing down at them.

“Thank you, Mrs. Mustang.” Grumman cleared his throat as he handed the pictures back to her. “I don’t expect anything in return, like I said, but I appreciate you showing these to me.”

Riza nodded and took them back from his outstretched hand.

“If you ever need anything,” he stressed, his sharp eyes meeting hers directly, “anything at all, you can give me a call. All right?”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Please, call me Grumman,” he insisted.

“Thank you, Grumman,” Riza nodded.

“I’ll be on my way. I’ll send Doctor Marcoh in. Take care of yourself, Mustang,” he called over Riza’s shoulder. Then, in a surprising move, he took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You too, dear.”

Once he’d left, Riza returned to the chair by Roy’s bedside.

“He’s your grandfather?”

She wondered what Roy’s reaction would be. It seemed he had no clue about it either. His exclamation was incredulous.

“Yes,” Riza confirmed.

“But… How…” Roy floundered as he tried to find the words he needed. “When did you know?”

“I didn’t know for sure. When we were in Central on our little holiday after Mia was born and the staff announced there was a General Grumman on the phone waiting to speak to you, I made the connection with his name then. I’d never seen him before though. Seeing him now, he’s still the spitting image of the picture I glanced at once when I was a child.”

“…And he never contacted you before now?” Roy’s question had an edge to it. He was mildly affronted on her behalf.

Riza shook his head. “Not to my knowledge.”

“He knew your name,” Roy muttered quietly to himself. “I told him. Not your last name, admittedly, but he’d heard your first name and seen your picture. He even pestered me to marry his granddaughter before he knew I was married to you.” His brow furrowed deeper, his expression darkening. “And he still did nothing?”

Riza shrugged. She didn’t know what to say to him. “He said he had his reasons for that. I don’t know what they could possibly be, nor am I interested to find out.”

Roy fell silent for a few moments. “You don’t trust him, do you?”

“I don’t know him, so no. I wish I could, given he’s my last remaining older family member, but I can’t. I don’t trust his motives either. Not after his actions. Despite his genuine tone, there’s something about him that I can’t put my finger on.”

His head bobbed a few times as he absorbed her statement. “I can’t believe he never contacted you.”

Riza grimaced. “My family history is… tricky. From what I remember of it, anyway. It could be to do with that, however, I never held any grudge towards him. I never really knew him and was too young. My parents cut ties when I was a baby.”

There was a sudden pressure on her hand. Roy had placed his atop hers, covering it with his warmth and comfort.

“If he’s holding onto that feud, or whatever it was, after all this time, then I’m not sure I want to waste my time trying with him. If not…” she trailed off, still unsure. “Anyway,” Riza announced, steering the conversation away from her thoughts. “Sorry to burst your bubble about him.”

Roy snorted and scoffed. “He was the one who taught and encouraged me to always work to serve my own agenda. It doesn’t surprise me he was doing it for himself. I’m more concerned about you, though.” His expression looked slightly anxious. “Are you okay about all of this?”

“Grumman acknowledging my existence doesn’t take away anything from my life, nor does it add to it. I don’t know what I will do, or what I want, regarding a relationship with my grandfather. Quite frankly I don’t really want to consider it right now either. There’s more important things due to happen,” she smiled, “like you getting your eyesight back.”

“I know, but… Well, whatever you decide, I will support you. No matter what.”

Riza smiled at him. She tapped the back of his hand with her finger three times and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Roy.”

“Of course,” he replied simply. “You’re welcome, Riza.”

Their conversation ended there as someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Riza called.

Doctor Marcoh poked his head around the door and looked at them expectantly. “Are you ready to begin the procedure, Colonel?”

[gxccistyless]

Kiwi || Part Six.

So um HELLO. I’m aware it’s been a very long time, truth be told I had totally forgotten about this!! I wanted to however finish this series before starting on anything new and so after this there will be a part seven and then perhaps an epilogue. IN THE MEANTIME HOWEVER I AM TAKING REQUESTS FOR HARRY SHORTS — What I mean by this is, well give me a prompt or something you want written and I’ll try my best!

Hope you all enjoy part six of Kiwi!

If you’re new here, please subscribe/follow... If you’d like to catch up you can read Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four and Part Five . ENJOY!!

“Please give me another chance? I know we’ve been through a lot but i really do love you and want to at least try and make things work…” The two of you had sat in the room in undisturbed silence for a further five minutes before you nodded your head. When you realised he couldn’t hear you nodding, you finally spoke.”Yes” Harrys breath hitched in his throat and if you ask him, he’ll swear his heart skipped a few beats. “But i have a few conditions...” He nodded waiting for you to continue. “You have to stop drinking and get yourself straight. You need to start talking to someone about your problems... and i want us to go to therapy... together.” The thought of talking to someone else about everything going on in his life and explaining to them why he would drown himself in alcohol seemed rather daunting, but a small price to pay to get back the love of his life. He tries to argue with you but he knows that you hold all the cards and he holds none, so he agrees. “do you know the gender?” You shake your head “Would you like to know?” He shakes his head in response “I quite like the idea of a surprise, seems very on theme”  he lets out a small giggle, as do you. He moves closer to you and even though it feels a little awkward he reaches out for your hand and you give it to him, you both turn your attention back to the baby on the screen.

When Anne and Gemma return to the room that’s how they find the two of you, holding hands, looking at the child the two of you made together. Anne smirks a little, she’d been rooting for the two of you. Gemmas eyes go back and forth between your linked hands and both of your faces. “Thank Christ, I honestly thought I’d have to lock the two of you in the laundry room later, bloody as stubborn as each other” you roll your eyes, but you know she’s right. 

_______________________________________ On the drive back to the apartment Harry and Gemma had organised that they would take turns to babysit you over the coming weeks. Harry would of course move back in and stay at night, and Gemma would watch you whenever he needed to be out of the apartment.  Anne was adamant that she would come down every weekend to cook and help prepare a space for the baby... neither you or Harry could argue with her. 

You could no longer fit the bump behind the wheel of a car and quite frankly after all the ups and downs of the last few weeks everyone was a bit worried that you would go into labour prematurely, yourself included. Even though you had promised Harry another chance you still had boundaries and wanted to take things slowly, he respected your boundaries and reluctantly slept on the couch. He quickly realised after two nights on a more than uncomfortable couch that this arrangement wouldn’t work. Never mind the fact that he was sleeping on a terrible couch that there was hardly any space for in this shoebox sized apartment, where would this baby fit when it came, your bedroom barely fit your side tables and bed let alone a crib for the baby. 

“I think we ought to look at moving you to my place...” he broached the topic with you less than 48 hours after taking up residence on the couch. “Really? Why? I quite like it here” He shakes his head “I understand that, but where is this baby going to go? You know babies have stuff too... like a crib and a high chair, love you don’t even have room for a dining table in here let alone a high chair and your bedroom has absolutely zero room for a crib or a bassinet” 

Deep down you know he is right, this apartment is way too small to fit all three of you, heck it barely was enough space for you and now Harry is back in the picture and the bump is very rapidly approaching it’s due date. The thought of moving right now however really overwhelmed you, the thought of being seven months pregnant and then moving all the stuff that you had made you feel like you were drowning, so you told him that through sobs.

“I’ll pack this up, I’ll send you to Mums for a night or two.... you don’t have to lift a finger.. I promise you I’ll do all the hard work, but love if I have to sleep on this couch for a second longer than necessary I might go insane, my back is so sore you have no idea the pain that I’m —” he stops himself and looks up at you, your face had a less than impressed expression “you have barely slept on this couch for two nights, how about you try carrying a watermelon around on your pelvis for seven months, a watermelon WITH YOUR HEAD”  you let out a huff. He brings you to the couch and gives you two minutes to just sit alone undisturbed with a glass of cool water. When he returns you’ve had enough time to think about everything he’s said, you tell him that as long as he promises you don’t have to pack a single box, you agree to move. 

That night you demanded that he sleep in the bed next to you, he was given strict instructions to stay on his side of the bed and you thought for certain you’d have no trouble staying on yours, especially considering the large pregnancy pillow in the middle. Even though it went against all the boundaries you had set, god forbid you have to hear him complain about his back tomorrow. He didn’t think twice when the words came out of your mouth, making his way straight to the bed. The next morning you woke up to your pregnancy pillow on the floor your legs entangled with his, his hand on the bump. 

______________________________________

Two days later you are moved into his London house. It’s definitely bigger than your last place, a bedroom for you, a room for the baby and a room for Harry too and even then some to spare. Truth be told you didn’t use the room that was intended for you, telling Harry that the cooling system was much better in his room than yours. Both he and you know that this is a lie, but neither of you speak the truth. The two of you have started couples therapy, it’s really helped the two of you sort through issues and talk about old wounds. Harry even started solo sessions to help him cope with his drinking problem.   _______________________________________________ As the bump continued to increase in size and your due date got closer it became harder to leave the house. Not only because you were uncomfortable and large, but the tabloids  had caught onto the fact that you and Harry had moved back in together and so that meant that the paparazzi were camped out on your front door at all hours of the day. Harry tried to do as much work as he possibly could from home, but there were times where this was impossible and so true to her word Gemma came to keep you company, jumping any time you would move. 

________________________________________________

The days went on and on with no sign of baby. “Maybe they don’t want to come until we can decide on names” you’d both gone back and forth on names for a few weeks now.  “What do you think about James for the middle name?” He says whilst his head is in his morning paper. Truth be told you hadn’t been thinking of James for the middle name, you’ve had a boy middle name picked out for the longest time, but as for a first name... well you had nothing.

With a girl name however, well girl names came in an abundance, and it was a back and forth of name throwing, with a list longer than what your final thesis had been at uni. If this poor kid turned out to be a boy he would be lucky to even have a first name let alone a middle name.“It’s very British innit? and i was thinking it’s very gender neutral, so could work no matter what we have boy or girl” You roll your eyes at the thought, but just smile in agreement... He will forget about this in an hour and he’ll have mentioned another three names before the day is through. 

“I quite like the name Grayson” it’s been one of your top picks for the longest time, whilst other names have come and gone Grayson has stayed. But Harry, well he won’t have any of it, he is totally against the name. He says something about the name doesn’t scream success, and that he wants his son to have a strong name. “So what James is a strong name to you? Do you know how many James’ there are in the UK alone? It doesn’t exactly scream individual?!” The two of you had been playing this back and forth on names since the night you moved in to his house. It started over text whilst he was moving your boxes and then eventually just became something the two of you would discuss every day.

 “Ok... ok...  we don’t have to decided right now, but eventually we will. But Grayson is definitely off the table” You’re taken back by his authority and you’re a little mad that he’s dismissed your favourite name so easily without even thinking about it. “Well if Grayson is off the table, the James is too”  You stomp off toward the bathroom and run yourself a bath. Staying in there for what seems like an eternity. You think of how his face fell when you told him James was vetoed as a name. You’d like to think that he felt a little pang in his heart too when he realised your feelings were just as hurt. You intend to apologise to him, you intend to explain everything to him, you hope he’s still here when you get out of the bath.

When you reach the bedroom and slump onto the bed his back is facing you, you turn on your side trace your fingers over his torso tattoo. He tenses. You know he’s a little mad from earlier, he had really liked James for a middle name, and the way that you shot him down had hurt him, but in fairness he had hurt you too. “Harry.. Harry turn around... please?” He turns to face you, but doesn’t make eye contact with you.”It’s not that i don’t like your suggestion Harry, i do, but i’ve had a boy middle name picked since i first found out i was pregnant. And well, i’m sorry but James just doesn’t compare to it...i have a really strong name after a man who is so special to me, who i know this baby will admire and well.. James...  it just won’t do.. it does’t compare. And so if we have a boy I want his middle name to be Edward” 

The moment it rolls off your tongue his eyes light up, he finally makes eye contact with you. His breath hitches and his lips part, his eyes fill with tears. He brings you in close to him, hand back to the bump where it’s been at every moment possible.

[lookingforhobi]

♡ tour ♡

TOUR (Part Two)

Summary: It was just a tour with your friends to explore Seoul. But life gave you Namjoon. Yes, Kim Namjoon, the leader of a world-renowned group BTS.

Author’s Note: This is originally planned as ONE-SHOT but some comments were asking for it. Long overdue because life happens but here it is finally! Please don’t reupload or make YT content without my permission. This is purely imagination.

Click the link for the part one on my Youtube channel

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

au/genre/warning: too much heartbreak; mentions of self-harm, mental health issues; pregnancy warning, unprotected sex; aggressive

Word Count: 12.9k

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Your hands are shaking as you shuffle through the set of keys to your new apartment. This has been the biggest leap of faith you ever did so far. Well, aside from your craziness and dating Kim Namjoon! But you try your best not to think of him and remember the promise you made yourself not to reconnect with him anymore. You are here because finally you’ve gotten the offer in the University to teach- a dream that happened before you started knowing Kim Namjoon better, not just as idol but the real Kim Namjoon. You sighed when you finally open the door and immediately shut it behind you. It feels different and home sickness starts to creep in. The last time to set foot to this country was with your friends, with the goal just exploring what the place has to offer, but Seoul gave you Joon. “Here you go again with Namjoon, Y/N,” you sighed to yourself. Sometimes you wish you are in different world, in parallel universe. Maybe there, things would’ve worked out. Or maybe in another life, you’d be in the same world and life would be better. “Suck it up!” you told yourself. You can’t live in what ifs and what not’s. You’re here, now. That is what matters.

You picked up your phone and dialled your Mom’s number. Living away from home, with no friends around, in a place where your what ifs are, are kind of tough. You swallowed hard when your mom picked up. She was supportive of your dreams, but when she learned you’re going to Seoul she got worried. She knew about you and Namjoon, though confused what is the real reason of the breakup, she knew you’re in for another heartbreak once your ways intersect again.

“My sunshine, how are you? How’s the apartment? How’s your flight? Have you eaten yet?” your mom worried as ever. “I’m good, Mom. Apartment’s nice, but I haven’t unpacked yet. I just got here. The flight? Urgh, I slept before the plane takes off so…” You laughed. “that’s good. Do you have food there? At least eat something before resting. You can unpack later" You smiled at her remarks, you’re going to miss her sweet nagging and the way she babysits you sometimes. “Mom, I’m a grown-up woman. A strong independent woman. Okay? Don’t worry. I got this handled like a queen!” you chuckled. “Like me,” she added. The call run for what it feels like forever, as you talk about your goals and schedules and anything, you started unpacking your stuff. Placing the family photos carefully and making sure your apartment feels like home one way or another. You smiled seeing your friends’ photos. It was the greatest adventure that winter. It was unexpected, the events were unplanned, it left a big impact of your life..and to think about it, it is one of the reasons you decided to pursue your dreams. Partly, Namjoon pushing and keeps on bugging you to, but mainly because this is where you dreamt of settling way long before you knew BTS exist. Your fascination to South Korea, the culture, tradition, and history of the place made you fall in love, added the amount of KDramas you grew up with- being Goong on top of the list because of the historic and cultural twist of that rom-com.

“Rom Com,” you laughed to yourself. The word that got Namjoon puzzled the first time you talked about favourites. He made a lot of funny poetic thing out of those words, clearly making a big deal of flexing his brainy ass! You smiled to the memories of your dating journey. But as soon as you realised, bitterness and sadness took over again. It has been 3 years since the breakup, and you can’t still take it out of your system. You blamed yourself for being a weakling, a coward. Overly dramatic and pathetic. Well, that is what other fans told you when they found out he’s dating someone. Great thing is BigHit got to intervene before people starts digging into HER that makes Namjoon’s heart flutter and inspired. Writing the song HER in record-breaking time. You can’t bear to hear it now without crying your eyes out for days. It teared you out completely, leading to issues that needs professional help. He didn’t know about that, of course you would never say it. You ended the relationship without further explanation. You dropped it like it doesn’t matter anyway. “It was just a fling.” That was what you said. But you know clearly it was not.

Of course, it’s hard dating an idol. The moment you stepped into the airport when you left after your Seoul getaway, you knew it won’t work. You cling on to the promise that he’d make time to visit you secretly, or make sure you can come to their concerts if your schedule permits. But as life gave you Namjoon in an unexpected time, fate decided to give you the bitter reality. He missed your calls, he forgot your birthday, he’d text once a month. You tried to understand all of that. He clearly has dreams to chase, and you can’t expect him to be with you-especially with their growing popularity. All the concerts, and pressure of producing new tracks, is too much for him…and you came along. Another added stress to what is already on his shoulders. He pleaded to make it work, but you knew it won’t. The biggest part-lack of human touch. You crave for it. You needed it. You needed to be reassured, and you consider touch as your love language. And it is very impossible for two people living miles apart. Heck, worlds apart! At first, you find ways. But virtually, is nothing compared to what you’ve shared back then. The amazing touch, sounds you never knew existed, his deep voice moaning your name… You shake your head once more. “Not gonna happen again. 3 years, Y/N. He moved on. You broke the poor man’s heart because you’re weak. So let him go. Let go!” you say that every day, like a mantra that keeps you going through the whole day.

You opened your SNS to check up on your friends and update them of everything. They are already planning of visiting you. Unlike with them, they did not break Yoongi and Jimin’s hearts. They made it clear after that triple date not to get involved emotionally. They knew better, you did not listen to them, hence they named you “the hard-headed, heart-breaker”. You love their honesty though, and the way they put up with all your drama and crying and making sure you’re attending therapies. It’s not that you’ve attempted to end your life though, you just didn’t find any more reasons to do the things you used to love. You started drifting away from everyone else, shutting doors even to your mom, your blank stares , and the forgotten ways to find happiness. They were the first to notice you drifting away from life. They initiated therapy sessions, made sure you were never alone but still maintaining your independence, and still respecting your privacy and preferences. They are your lifeline. And without them here, it is a tough journey. But you know, you were never alone really. You found your ways of dealing and living with it, you know the pre-warning signs. You grew stronger through it all.

By the end of the day, your apartment is tidied up, all your stuff are organised, and you felt yourself starving. You decided to have a walk around the neighbourhood, looking for essential spots around the area. You found your way towards one convenience store, and that is when it hits you. Looking straight ahead, his face is plastered everywhere- even on drinks! You wish you could just have amnesia and forget you ever met. If you could just start over, you would not let a strange man jumped into your taxi from the airport. You sighed as you try to ignore his grin from the coffee canister. You picked Hoseok instead. Their group has gotten huge that if you meet people from the outer space, they will certainly know about them, too. The idea made you smile, and as crazy as it sounds. But that what Namjoon has always manifested- their message transcends to everyone. Not just being popular but creating an impact that could change one or two lives. Yet he clearly cannot see how one group touched millions of people, and continue touching and attracting positivity to every homes. You are so proud of what they have become. Not that you have personal history together, but because before you’re HER, you’re an ARMY first. You look back to the moments when you have been struggling and how the group manage to lift you up. Ironically, the leader became one of the reasons for your confusion and heartaches for the last 3 years. If there’s an advice you can give to your younger self- DO NOT FALL IN LOVE WITH AN IDOL.

Weeks by, and little by little you get to adopt and create a system of how you’re going to survive this new beginning. You have also met some friends which are so lovely, even some from your country. Luckily, when Hallyu wave is the topic, you can manage to explain the true reason of you coming to South Korea- which is their rich cultures and amazing landscapes. You’ve also visited the places on your bucket list with the guide of your friends, particularly Felix. He has been very accommodating and welcoming and would give you amazing trivia about the places. You spend a lot of time together and sometimes he’d pick you up at work. He’s a nice guy, and you’re starting to like him but you know you’re not ready for anything yet. You made that clear the first time you talked about relationship, but not revealing the identity of the reason.

Days rolled to weeks, turned to months and before you know it it’s been almost a year since you’ve moved. You have been thriving and surviving, managing to build a wall between you and all BTS-related stuff. It has been quite a struggle because they are everywhere but you were able to filter the Namjoon you dated, pretend he’s a different guy from the BTS leader. Because from what you’ve learned, he is really different from RM. Namjoon is real, RM is just a tiny speck of Namjoon.

Fate must’ve been really bored one day you went to a coffee shop after work. It was an unexpected get together with your friends when a familiar face appeared. Your heart begins to race, you feel blood draining from your face, and you hold your breath. “Seems like you’ve seen a ghost” said Ligia. You can’t speak, you just stared at Manager Sejin and Namjoon entering the café. “You said you’re not into KPop?” asked Jenna. You can’t find answers, you can’t think. All you want is to bask in Namjoon’s ethereal presence. He still has that effect on you. The photos from everywhere is nothing compared to the actual Namjoon. Photographers don’t do justice no matter how they try. The man’s beyond aesthetic. His hair, that silver hair you always compliment…and did he hit the gym? He clearly did, his shoulders… his chest…oh that veiny arms who used to wrapped around your waist. That chest you used to sleep on. You’re longing for his touch…. You sit there staring at him, not minding all the questions and commotion from your friends. Not until…

“Y/N?” His voice, his heavenly voice, waking you up from your frozen state. “Oh my. You’re here? Here, here?” he walks towards you and all hell lose. You looked at your friends and strangers looking blankly at you two. Manager Sejin manages to warn anyone not to take photos, bodyguards started coming in. But you, everything seems to be moving slowly. “Ba---” he was about to say it, as if it’s the most natural thing to say. “Nam—Namjoon. H-hi" you finally found your voice, shaky and whispered, but still manageable. You didn’t know how but your friends seemed to be nowhere. It’s just you and Namjoon now, even Manager Sejin seems to have left. “Why? How? When?” he asked. Not sure how to answer, you just shook your head. “I’m sorry. I can’t, I… I don’t know how to explain.. not now, Joonie" you whispered. He smiled but you know he’s confused as well. You stood there for what it feels like eternity. You longed to touch him, you wish you could. But reality is creeping in. If you do it, it’ll ruin your Namjoon. It’ll ruin him and the guys. You cannot afford to do that. You kept your composure and bowed, attempting to walk away. Because any second, you’d burst crying and it’ll be no turning back. Your friends will start asking questions, social media will be filled of your photos, articles will be put up, heck Dispatch has its own ways of finding even your whole information. No, you must leave now!

“Can I at least call you?” he suddenly whispered. “I deserve answers, Y/N" he begged. You looked at him, he’s devastated as well. Was he struggling for the past years too? Trying hard to hide his true emotions, putting up a show for the whole world to know he’s doing great? You nodded. “Same info", you replied. “Thank you. It’s great to see you" he bowed, too formal, too stiff. He walked away first from the back door as Sejin walked past you. You bowed to both at them as they make their way out. When they’re gone, the store reopened but you chose to go home immediately leaving your friends with all their questions and worried looks.

You turned everything off- phone, SNS, laptop…anything that could connect you to the outside world. Right now, you just wanted to be alone. Soak in your own tears and begin hating yourself again. He was few feet away, so near…yet so far. You pinched yourself to make sure you can still feel anything except the emotional pain. Any pain, anything that could divert you from the thoughts of what if’s. “fuck it!” was all you can say while opening another bottle of beer. Sometimes you question how you get so lucky that Namjoon knows your existence. Yet cursed because every move means you could destroy him. “I just wanted a normal life! Date a normal guy! Hold his hand in public! Kiss him in front of the crowd!” You started shouting, over and over until you get exhausted. Curse.

You’re woken up by loud knocking. You checked the clock and it’s 4am, you only had 30 minutes of rest and whoever this is means it’s urgent by how heavy the knocks are. You remembered turning off all your connections, your friends must have been so worried. You peeked at the door, a tall guy’s silhouette stands there. “The fuck you want? Who are you??!!” you yelled. Beer breath coming out and you’re starting to get really dizzy. “open up Y/N" he whispered. “Namjoon? How the fuck did he managed to find me? You asked yourself. “Sorry, wrong house" you answered. “You can’t fool me. Let me in, please. It’s freezing" he begged. “Fuck Namjoon, it’s 4am what the hell are you thinking?” you asked him as you opened your door. You have enough beer in your system to act brave as you face the inevitable questioning. His scent was the first you caught. And God knows how much you missed that scent. 4 years since you’ve last smell that, and it brings back all memories. But now is not the time to think about those memories. “You’ve been drinking?” he has a hint of annoyance in his voice. You chuckled “duh!”. He sighed and sit himself down. “Why are you not answering?” now he seems concerned. “Disconnected outside world" you managed to reply as you tried your best to walk straight. “Jeez, Y/N! You’re wasted. This is not clearly the time" he remarked. “Yes, Kim Namjoon. This is not our time! There will never be our time!” you hissed in anger. He froze by your reply, hurt perhaps, and you started sobbing yet again. “In another lifetime, perhaps" you cried before everything turned black.

You woke up with the worst hangover headache. Everything feels heavy, and the sunlight is not helping at all. You groaned as you roll over your bed and noticed your clothes on the floor. Sudden gush of shock rush through your system as you try your hardest to recall the events from yesterday. NAMJOON! You immediately looked for signs of Kim Namjoon in your room. Aside from clothes on the floor, you’re also wearing new set of pyjamas. “Oh no no no no no no!” you prayed nothing happened between you. It will be a disaster, and you can’t let it ruin your lives again. You quickly run towards the kitchen and notice that the bottles of beer are now neatly packed by the kitchen counter, the living room tidy and not a single evidence of mess. “Joonie?” you asked. But no answer. You can’t be dreaming. No matter how drunk you were last night, you know he was here. He was, and the note on the table confirmed it.

Took the liberty to cook you breakfast. Also have medicines for headache. Lemonade on the fridge. Answer my messages/calls.

-NJ

You asked yourself how can he act as if nothing happened? Like you didn’t break his heart and tore him to pieces? Are you that irrelevant? Worth forgiving without even asking for one? How can he move on so easily? You did this, and your suffering for it but he acts cool and pretends to be okay. You pushed the food aside and went on to get the lemonade, which another note was attached.

Food first before medicine.

You rolled your eyes. And sighed as you open your phone. Messages came flooding through. From friends, your mom, voice mails, and notifications. But above everything, an unknown number with lots of missed call logs. You debated whether to call back that number, as if you don’t have a hint of who owned this number. Like on Cue, the number begins calling you. You were startled and almost dropped your phone. Your heart racing and skipping a beat at the same time.

“Hello?” you greeted.

“Finally!” Namjoon groaned.

“Why?” you asked plainly. “Nothing. Just making sure you’re up and eating.”

“Yes, I saw the notes. Thanks" you sighed. Then followed by silence.

“I have to go. But I'll call you again" he said, and ended the call.

What’s new? You mumbled to yourself. It was like that. It started with calls like that. He was always busy, you get it. You let him be, talk to you whenever he can. You never asked directly or demanded anything from him. His free time means writing new tracks, and talking to you at the same time. You were okay with it. His voice calms you down and brings comfort. He would send surprise gifts, too, with the help of Abi and Maigne.

You decided to call your friends.

“Whattt??? He went to your apartment? What was he thinking???” Maigne freaked out. “I don’t know, I didn’t get the chance to ask.” You answered. “Y/N! You didn’t…..did you?” Abi asked with questioning look. “No!.... I don’t know! I woke up with different set of clothes” you looked down, trying to recall everything but to no avail. “You…aiissshhh!!! I don’t know. How are you though?” Maigne asked, concern taking over. You shrugged because honestly, you don’t know. “Is there…is there any news? You know, SNS?” you waited patiently as both of them tried hard not to spill the tea. “Hmm. Nothing so far. Clear from dispatch. Comeback goals…, few buzzed about Namjoon and mystery girl at a coffee shop.. nothing much.” Abi said, as she scrolls absent-mindedly through her feeds. “Yeah, same", added Maigne. They were busy scrolling that they did not catch your reaction from the last statement. “Coffee shop". “What?” they asked in unison. “That was me" you swallow painfully. “Why would you leave that detail???” Maigne asked. “I was pre-occupied with him barging in my apartment. But yeah, that is how we met.” And you filled them with all the details you can remember. They are confused as well, and have different opinions on how to deal with Namjoon. “We’ll be filing our vacation leave soon. Hang in there, okay?” Abi reassured and you smiled as you ended the video call. You didn’t bother calling your Mom about Namjoon, she’ll just worry and you know she’s had enough of you getting your heartbreak.

You let go and ignored the urge to text him again. Besides, you learned that they’re preparing for their comeback. What you need to prepare is how to answer your new friends. Of course you can’t tell the truth. “I attended couple of album signing and other events for BTS. They have very sharp memories,” you lied. They didn’t bugged you again, as it has become a norm for the fans to attend public events. Days pass and you decided to focus on your work instead of basking around the idea of Namjoon, or reaching out to him. But then you receive a message from him:

Namjoon: Can we meet?

You: Outside? IDK Namjoon. It’s all over SNS

Namjoon: I’ll pick you up. The guys wanted to see you, too.

You: Is that even a good idea?

Namjoon: They missed you

You: Should we be talking first? I don’t want them to get the idea that I’m coming back

Namjoon: ok

You know it hurt him, just as much as it hurts you. But it is for the better. They might get the wrong impression of you coming back to Namjoon’s life just because you’re here now. They might protect you, they can protect you. They have been always supportive of you and Namjoon. But the main concern here is- will you be able to protect them especially Namjoon? You’ve put him in so much stress and heartbreak already, you can’t let that happen again as much as you missed him. His image is more important than anything. It’s the best you can do.

You: you can come here. We can talk here.

You were fixing your dinner when you heard someone knocking. You are not expecting anyone, except Namjoon. You furrowed your brows, it can’t be… But when you opened the door, it is him.

“Hi. Wasn’t expecting you. I thought we’d schedule or something,” you stuttered. “Oh, did I catch you in a bad time?” he hesitated. “No, no. I just thought you’re busy. Come in,” you try your best to calm your nerves. Seeing him here, miraculously you’re sober this time, makes you want to cling yourself around his arms. Feel him, touch him. It took all your might not to do that. “I’m preparing dinner. Do you wanna…join?” you can’t hide the awkwardness, but he smiled. The most reassuring smile. “Sure,” he attempts to stand up but you signalled him not to. It’s like you’re both testing waters, trying to hold back everything. “So, how are you?”, he asked while looking at the photos on the table. You scoffed “Surviving”. He nodded and smiled a little. “You?” you asked. “Album prep’s going on nicely.” “No, Joon. Namjoon. You.” You insisted. “I like it when you call me that. And yeah, I guess I am trying to survive, too” Then silence followed. You know it’s time to talk about what happened, but you don’t want to ruin dinner. Stalling, you’re good at it. Prolonging your agony perhaps but at least you’re buying a little more time to look at him. The man who was once you called home. “Dinner’s ready. Wine?” you want to kick yourself for offering alcohol when you want to talk about serious stuff. He nodded, showing his dimples. Your favourite…one of your favourite parts of him.

Dinner was fine but awkward. He tried to lighten up the mood by talking about the new album, the past concerts, the craziness of the guys, and how they get full schedule for the whole year. You are very proud of them, how they handle everything together all at once. “How are you, Y/N?” he suddenly asked. “I told you, surviving.” You replied. He nodded. “Listen..” you inhaled deeply. He sighed; he knows it’s THE TALK you’re going to have. “I’m sorry for bailing out.” You dropped your gaze on the floor, not wanting to see how devastated he is. “I should’ve tried harder. I should’ve... I should’ve fought harder. But I just couldn’t. I had to let go,” your tears begin to pool in your eyes. Your vision becomes blurry. He didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. So, you continued, “You were the nicest guy- RM or Namjoon. And I just can’t be with you. I can’t ruin you, Joon. I won’t forgive myself if that happens. I can’t defend you. I can’t…” “please, stop” he sighed. “It’s not on you, Y/N. I was too busy I forgot about you, your needs. My promises” he sighed. “I knew it won’t work. But at least we tried?” you whispered, sobbing. “We did,” he whispered too, voice starts to crack.

.

.

.

.

Months past, you focused yourself and everything into work that you never had any chance of thinking about what happened during that night. It was all dramatic but freeing. You stopped questioning everything and decided to move forward instead of dwelling in the past. He is doing well, too. You started to follow them on SNS again, started watching their new MVs and interviews. You smile once in a while, and ironically, their new songs comfort you. You were back being ARMY. Whatever happened in the past is far behind your control and concern right now. Besides, you are an ARMY first. You also started going to the places you once visited with Namjoon. Your favourite place to unwind and de-stress is the restaurant near Han River where you went on a dinner date. It was awkward at first, memories came flushing. But every time you set foot, it becomes your comfort zone. Plus the view is really relaxing and heavenly. One hell night, you were rushing to get away from all the stress of work, you drive all the way there only to be told that the whole place is reserved for VIP visitors. To your dismay, you sighed and stayed outside for a little while. While you were about to go home, someone called your name. “Y/N? Is that you?” You turned around and you were immediately enveloped into his hug. “Oh my! It is you! Wow!” Jimin giggled. “Jimin! Hi. Um, what…you’re here?” you asked in panicked. “Yes, the boys are inside. Come!” he pulled you. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Chim.” You said shyly. “Oh don’t worry with Namjoon. He’s cool, he’s moved on. We know.” Your heart pains by his remark. “Yeah. But… I don’t know.” You hesitated. “Just drop and say hi then I’ll let you be. I promise. We just missed you having around.” He looked at you with puppy eyes, and who would not fall for that trick? Especially coming from sweet Jimin! You sighed and you let him lead you inside. “Look who I found outside!” Jimin screamed. They all looked at you, mouth wide open. You can’t bear look at them but you turned your gaze to Namjoon. “Y/N?” he stood up and walk towards you. “H-hi. I was about to go home. You guys enjoy the night.” You bowed to them and walk away, but Namjoon caught your arm. “No, no. Stay for a while. Join us. Right guys?” he asked them and they all nodded. You caught Yoongi’s eyes and he looks at you with angry look. You move your gaze to the floor, trying to contain your tears. “Yeah, Y/N. Join us” he said plainly. You know Namjoon felt the intensity of Yoongi’s words, too, but he shook it off. You smiled a little, unsure about Yoongi’s reaction. “So, Y/N. What have you been up to? Are you staying for good? Or you gonna run again?” he asked bitterly. “Hyung. Let’s not.. please drop it” Namjoon interrupted. The guys fell silent. You inhaled sharply, you were put in a hot seat, might as well give them what they want to hear. To hell with all the inhibitions and pretentions. “Look, I messed up, big time,” you started. “Y/N, we’re good. You don’t have to explain. We’ve already talked” he whispered. “No, Joon. We talked, but they didn’t hear me. They also need to know. What happened was not just between you and I. They were affected, too. I know.” You sighed. “I messed up. You’ve been so protective of me, of us. You did everything to keep my identity away from spying eyes. You protected me in a way I can’t protect you. I… I felt useless, I felt like a hindrance. I can’t come near you because I’m too afraid to be exposed. I can’t let myself ruin your career.” You swallowed hard before continuing.. “Namjoon went through a lot, I know how it feels because I got my heart broken too, you know. But you were there to console him, you have full schedule to at least help him get off his mind from me. I have nothing. I always had you to comfort me, but when it all happen, I can’t even listen to a single song nor can’t bear to say your name. You were my comfort, and I broke you. It’s selfish. I’m sorry. I will leave you be.” You started crying hard. Not giving a fuck of what you look like in front of everyone. You let your heart out, you’re

standing there vulnerable and looking pathetic but you don’t care anymore. You wanted to scream, you wanted to say you still care but you didn’t. You didn’t want to hurt them again especially Namjoon. “You know we are ready to risk everything just to see Namjoon happy again. He was doing well. Now, you’re here again? Why?” Yoongi asked without any emotions. “They offered me a job here. I know I should’ve rejected it. It’s dumb. But don’t worry, I will not get in your way.” You answered back. “That’s not what I meant, Y/N” Yoongi softens. He looked at you and to Namjoon. “Is there a tinge of hope when you accepted the offer, that Namjoon is part of why you accepted it?” he asked. You looked at Namjoon and started sobbing again. Because yes, you knew Seoul is home. You knew he was here. You didn’t expect nor look for him, but you let fate decide. You readied yourself of the possibility of bumping into him. Namjoon was about to hug you but you stepped back. “I can’t do this. Not again. I’m sorry” you bowed and run as fast as you could. Away from them. You opened up another wound, you did this. But you also felt relief for having the chance to explain to the guys why you did what you did. It’s for the best. Hopefully.

.

.

.

“So, since you’ve fully admitted to be an ARMY, can we please please please attend their concerts?”, begged Ligia when they announced the concert details few months after the storm within you had settled. “Concerts? You mean not just one day?” you asked bewildered. “YES! I’ve been saving up and finally getting enough money to go worldwide!!” she exclaimed proudly. You shook your head, “I don’t know. I have to look at my schedule first.” She screamed with excitement. “No promises!” you replied laughing. You fixed your schedule the next day you went to work, great thing concerts are scheduled during weekends. The ticket selling was nerve-wracking though! All your friends-ARMY or NOT, help you buy VIP tickets for both days. But Ligia seemed to be wanting more so with her constant nagging, you both applied for soundcheck for both days as well. And life gave you what you’ve wished for- both days with soundcheck privilege. “You’re one lucky, bitch!” she screamed when you told her you got them, unluckily for her she was not chosen. “Well, it was your idea!” you laughed, “I’ll sneak a photo or video for you” you tried to console her. “Namjoon,” she replied. All of a sudden, you gasp. “What??? I said I like Namjoon. Have photos or videos of him doing Bapsae please!” she begged. The memories of your first night came rushing on you. He was indeed great in that movement. You blushed as you tried to contain the giddy feeling taking over you. “Sure,” you managed to answer with cracking voice.

.

.

.

The day of the concert and you and Ligia were too excited and messy all at the same time. Her enthusiasm got over you as well as you both giggle with the posters you made and the outfit you’ve chosen for each other. You were planning something comfortable but Ligia won’t drop the lace and harness the boys were wearing during the previous concerts and concepts. “I’m not sure about this. We’ll be standing, screaming, dancing and crying in these tight outfits for 2 hours!” you screamed. “As long I catch Namjoon’s glimpse, I don’t fucking care!’” she screamed harder. Namjoon, looking at other girls with these outfit. Bitterness takes over. You sighed and let go. You’re not in any position to complain. He’s heavenly, and his dark gaze would turn anyone into feelings not known even to themselves. You shake your head to dismiss another thought of him. The que is outrageous as expected! But one thing that is amazing- ARMY strangers turn into friends the moment you’re in the que. They are all friendly and giddy and for a moment you know you’re part of something big, a family, a universe. And for what it feels like forever you are glad you’re alive in this lifetime witnessing history made by BTS. Ligia decided to come early even if she’s not part of the soundcheck, she wanted to meet all the ARMYs and started distributing gift and tokens to her new found family. You smiled and waved at her when it’s time to enter the soundcheck area. Adrenalin pumping all over your system, like it’s your first time seeing them. You smiled, trying to recall the happy memories you personally experience around the guys. One by one, the guys showed up. Hyping ARMYs and the crowd goes wild. You were screaming as well, and then he saw you. Out of all the crowd, his eyes dart on you. He looked at you from head to toe, and back to your face. You suddenly stopped and bit your lips. The boys were busy saying something to ARMY but here you are locking gaze with their leader. You saw him mouth WOW while looking at you- in a black tight leather mini skirt, mesh stockings. Red lace bralette topped with black leather jacket, choker and harness all over your body. You were cursing Ligia for making you wear such outfit but seeing Namjoon’s reaction made you feel glad. He liked it, clearly. Then Hoseok went to him and bumped him, signalling they’re about to start the soundcheck. Hoseok saw you as well and waved at you with wide eyes and silly smile. Only then you heard ARMYs screaming and you’re taken back to your senses. You pinched yourself and tried not to be too obvious with what’s happening in your body every time Namjoon looks at you. He’s sending butterflies, making your heart beat faster, taking your breath away. You remembered your promise to Ligia and took the risk of getting your phone out. It is prohibited though, but you don’t care anymore. You’re doing this not just for Ligia but for memories of what is happening to you, to him, right here. Like he knows what you are doing he went near to your area, winked sending all the ARMY screaming. Then for a moment, they rested and talked. Hoseok laughed and looked at you and all the members nodded. Jimin went to talk to the producers and Yoongi talked, “Okay this is not in the setlist but guess what?” and on cue, Bapsae played! “Shit” was all you can say as they disperse taking their own places in the stage. And a tease as he is, he chose in front of you. Your eyes widened and he showed his smirk, and you swore as you almost dropped your phone. He was at it- hard and wild. Making you sweat, swallow, squirm and trying to compose yourself. You reminded yourself once again of the reasons why you both decided to stop trying. You were fine, but damn Namjoon teasing you like this. You can feel the heat on your cheeks as he dances in front of you, locking gaze subtlety. He’s enjoying this, and whatever it is you are teasing him as well biting your lips and parting them with a sigh. He laughed and shook his head when the song ended. “WOOOOOOWWW! Amazing! See you later ARMYs!!!” screamed Jungkook. And that marks the

end of soundcheck. Before they went back, he glanced at you one more. You smiled.

You were out and showing the video to Ligia when suddenly you received a text. You quickly grabbed your phone away from her just in time the pop-up notification shows.

Namjoon: Wow. Lace and leather huh?

You: Ligia made me wear it.

Namjoon: Suits you well, Y/N.

You: Stop. I’m not going for the soundcheck tomorrow anymore!

Namjoon: you got 2 days? Just my luck

You: Rest.

Namjoon: See you later.

You furrowed your brows to his last reply but dismissed it anyway. “Who was that? You’re blushing!”, exclaimed Ligia. “No one.” You quickly deleted the messages and hand her your phone, “You want to finish the video or what?” She giddily takes it and melts in her own world.

After the concert, you felt as if you’re drained. Every time a concert ends, it’s like it brings you to a state of separation anxiety where you don’t know what else to do except re-live every moment. It goes like that all the time. You hang in there till the next time you get to hype with them, and longing starts to creep in. They were beyond amazing tonight, setting standards for concerts to the highest. Ligia was so happy and can’t stop talking about them, now confused more than ever between who her real bias is. “So, who’s your bias? I was too focused and I lost count how many times I swerve lanes tonight!” she exclaimed on your way to your apartment. “I don’t have one,” you answered honestly. “They all hit you in different ways, you know? So I threw that bias list and hype up to whoever that gives me the most feels in different situations.” She nodded. “So glad I was able to see them live. We’re lucky” she remarked. Yes, you are. And to your luck, you noticed a car parked outside your building. Great thing Ligia lives on the other building so you went separate ways. “See you tomorrow! And be sure to wear the outfit we’ve chosen or else..!” she bids as she runs to her building. Your eyes started to linger on the car parked. You don’t want to get your hopes up but who would park there with an unreleased Hyundai Palisade?

You dismissed the thought and continue walking towards your door.

Namjoon: 2 minutes

You ignored the message and decided to reply later as you settled in your couch to rest. But your rest was disturbed at exactly 2 minutes. When you opened the door, Namjoon entered quickly, looking back if someone saw him. “Shit, took you so long to go home,” he remarked. “Are you insane? Why are you here, Namjoon! Fuck, there are people outside! You’re trying to get Dispatch expose you, huh?” He laughed and sighed, basking in the sight of you and your concert outfit. Suddenly you became aware of what you have done to him. “No. Hey, this is fun. But Namjoon, we talked about this.” You tried to calm yourself but your voice is failing you, cracking because of how intense he looks at you. “Why did you go to the concert?” he asked. “I’m an ARMY and I missed seeing you perform.” He chuckled. “I- I mean all of you. Pft, not you alone! You know.. you and the boys, and..” you are shaking under his gaze. “Yeah, and why dressed like that? You know you’re attending soundcheck and it’s not crowded” he whispered. You swear his low, dark voice, would be your death. “Ligia’s fault.” “Hmm” he replied and walk closer to you. You tried to walk back, you really need to walk away. This is going to be messy and you made mental note of how this would ruin you and his career. You know better, you have to. But your body froze, your heart beats fast, your breath shallow in anticipation. The butterflies went swirling and your heart just keeps on failing you. You blame your hormones for being too wild tonight, for letting it take over the moment your eyes lock during soundcheck. The intense gaze while dancing, the memories of you having wild sex that winter. The urge, painful urge of longing for his touch. The feelings are all too overwhelming. He feels it, too. That is why he is here, risking everything just to see you. It’s not lust, it’s not just mere body craving. It’s the longing you both have been trying to contain. You both tried ignoring it when he went for closure. You know how much he strained himself not to touch you, kiss you. But tonight, all of the what if’s and risks are slowly fading. You crave for him. God knows how much you miss caressing his silky hair, kissing his soft velvety lips, playfully poking his dimples. Seems like he can read your mind, he sighed. “Y/N,” he whispered and touch his forehead to yours. “what are you doing to me?” “Joonie, I think…” you can’t finish your sentence. You just want to grab him and kiss him like it’s your last day on earth. “Baby, I want you back” he whispered, longing voice, almost begging. “I need you, Y/N. I need my yellow. When you left, I struggled a lot. I am good at hiding, but this time, seeing you here. I am willing to take the risk. Please, come back” he hugged you tight you can feel his heart beating fast. “Namjoon, we’ve talked about this. It’s a big risk for you and the whole group” you cannot deny the fact that you wanted him, too. You wanted him and willing to do whatever it takes, but what if you ruin his image? The group worked hard to where they are now. You can’t just take it away from them just because you are deeply in love with their leader. “We are all adults, we are humans. We are not perfect just as the society wants us to be. We need love, too” he whispered. You melted, like a butter your heart melts away. Who are you to deprive the love Namjoon deserves? Who are you to take his yellow away? You are coward, and you’re making him look pathetic to be begging for you. “Baby, I want to. You know how much I love you. But what if…” he didn’t let you finish. You admitted that you’re still in love with him through these years is enough for him. He slowly dip his face towards you, inch by inch you can clearly see him brightening, gaining his own beam of light. He loves you, you love him.

Whatever it takes, you throw all your worries away. You kissed him. You let your love and adoration to Kim Namjoon take over. The kiss was surprisingly slow, no rush despite the years of being apart. You take it all in, passion and pure ecstasy. His lips as soft as ever, his hands caress your back delicately as if afraid this is not real. It’s like your hand has a mind of its own, you caress his soft silver hair. His hands travels from your back to your waist and before you know it, he’s carrying you to the couch. You sit on his lap, aware of all that is happening inside his trousers and the heat building up between you. You need to feel him, you want him so bad you deepened the kiss. His tongue gently asking for permission, and you let him in. Soft moans and gasps are all you can hear in the silent living room. Before you could go any further, you break it. “Why?” he whispered. “You still have concert for tomorrow, Baby. And as much as I want you to spend the night here, I do. God, I really do. But I want to-“ “Let’s take things slow” he finished. He smiled sincerely and kiss you again, more passionate than ever. You nodded and he pulled you into a tight hug. “Oh how much I miss you, Y/N. I don’t want to let go.” He chuckled. “Me, too. So much that it hurts. But for now, you are RM. And as RM, you have to be at your 101% tomorrow. Today, you’ve been so rough and full of energy. I don’t want to have that energy all to myself tonight.” You teased. “But what about your outfit? I wanna ruin it, rip it off. Replace that choker with my hands” he whispered. “I love that. But not today” you teased back. He grunted but brings you into a tight hug. “So this means, you’re mine. Right?” he asked. “Silly! I am always yours, Kim Namjoon. Always.” You kissed him once more, savouring the feeling of being enveloped into the arms of your man once more. You were enjoying the comfiest hug when his phone buzzed. He answered but still holding you close. “Yes. I’m here at Y/N’s apartment. Shut up! No, I’m going back later. Let me fucking enjoy my girlfriend, Hoseok! STOP CALLING ME!” he laughed as he ended the call. “What was that?” you asked. “He keeps on asking if I’m coming home tonight or if I want to meet them at the stadium tomorrow instead” he chuckled. “Hoseok and his cuteness!” you giggled. “They missed you, you know. They saw you today, and they keep on bugging me to bring you there” he looked at you, asking for permission. “I missed them, too. But we’ll work it out. After what happened to Yoongi, I don’t know if I’m even welcome anymore,” you admitted. “Hey. Babe, it’s fine. When you left that night, we had discussions. They fully understand now. He even asked about you today. He saw you, too” he explained. “And…?” you bit your lips, bracing for a heart-break. “He wants to make up. So please come with me after the concert tomorrow?” he showed his dimples, acting cutely. “What if someone sees me?” you are worried and questions are starting to pile up again. “We got it covered, just like the old times. Besides, we’re adults. We’re all going to date one day, it just so happens that I got you first” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes on him, setting your head on his broad chest. “You’ve gotten big” you teased. “Wait till I show you. Now?” he whispered. “Not today” you laughed.

Your next concert outfit was the complete opposite of yesterday. You choose to wear BT21 pyjamas, complete with headband and other accessories. Since Ligia is wearing Koya, you chose to wear Chimmy. When Namjoon saw you at the soundcheck, he can’t stop laughing and even pointed it to Jimin, to which he almost rolls on the floor with too much laughing. It was fun seeing them doing the things they love, and seeing Namjoon so happy today. Others also noticed it by the amount of SNS updates of how he was looking so fine today and his dimples deeper than ever. To your surprise, they change some of the song line up for day 2. They added Outro: Her. You have mixed emotions over that song. The song he has written for you in under 20 minutes. You were on the phone then, and suddenly he interrupted you. “Wait, baby. I have something… stay on the line” The next thing you know, he was singing. His vocals that soothe you, and the sweet humming while he tries to put it all together. When it was complete, he let you hear it. “You’re the first to hear this demo. My HER” he said excitedly. “Also, your tear?” you asked sweetly. He chuckled, “yeah, my start and end”.

And now, hearing it after the breakup and now reconciliation, it hits you. All to different places but most importantly in your heart. He is so sincere and innocent and pure, and your heart swells with pride. Kim Namjoon, the philosopher, all yours. You look at him while he’s singing on the stage and it seems like he’s looking for someone- YOU. You were in barricade, so you are very near the stage. You screamed so loud even Ligia was startled. “KIM NAMJOON! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! I WOULD NEVER HURT YOU!” And just like that, he saw you. He beamed and went to you, continue singing. To others, it may seem normal as the boys usually do that-even to the point of taking videos of themselves using ARMYs phone. But to you, it’s different, it is special. He sit, looking at you while singing. You stood there, calmly crying while Ligia’s looking at you then Namjoon then back to you, while her eyes wide open and mouth dropping. It hits her. She knew. But you don’t care anymore. You only cared about Namjoon. Your universe. When the song ended, they did their ending spiel. One by one they thank ARMY for two amazing nights and promising to see ARMYs again. They are set for world tour and you brace yourself for another rollercoaster ride.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?” Ligia shouted after the concert ended. “What was what?” you pretended to know nothing. “The fuck! Tell me the truth! How’d you know Namjoon? First the coffee shop, then random texts, and now HER?” Ligia interrogated. “You have to stop reading fanfictions! Jeez!” you tried to shake it off by laughing at her reaction. “Oh don’t give me that shit, Y/N! Truth, now” she demanded. “Look, I am so tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow?” you smiled reassuringly. “You were flirting with him on the stage! And..” she gasp. “What?” You look at where Ligia is looking. “Babe,” Namjoon called you, walking towards you. “What is happening. I’m going to pass out! You… he..” she can’t finish her sentence. “What in the world, Namjoon?” you scolded him in front of your frozen friend. “It’s taking too long. I had to steal you away from…?” Namjoon looked at Ligia. “L-Ligia” she answered like she’s under a spell. “That’s enough drooling over my man, Ligia” you jokingly warned. “What the fuck, you traitor! He’s my bias!” she said jokingly but internally screaming. “What about you two get in the car before dispatch comes here?” Namjoon whispered. You pulled Ligia with you, who is clearly still in shocked. You were both greeted by the security, no other BTS members. They must have been too tired or having after party. “Where to?” asked one bodyguard. “The restaurant near Han River please” Namjoon replied, enveloping you into tight hug and kissing you on your forehead. Ligia shriek by Namjoon’s gesture. “So.. you two? If you don’t mind me asking?” interrogated Ligia. The security answered, “All information about personal life of BTS members must be kept in private. Should there be breached with the member’s personal life, please know that you are held liable and may be called to address in the court.” “Holy shit. That strict huh?” Ligia replied. You and Namjoon chuckled, and the body guard cleared his throat. “You’re in this mess, girl. Sorry” you laughed. “I still have a lot of questions though” she insisted. You shook your head and smiled. “Shit, I should’ve went straight to my apartment!” she sighed. “I trust you. But by this time, Bighit might have your information. Shhh. So” you joked around. “For fucking real? I don’t want my visa to be revoked over this relationship.” She laughed. “We’re kidding. And yes, Y/N is my girlfriend” Namjoon answered. “Lucky you! I might start crying now” she replied, literally teary-eyed. “Hey, I’m not gonna take your bias-RM, away. Kim Namjoon is mine, RM is for all ARMY” you replied. He tightened his hug around you, “I think I’m the lucky one.” He kissed you in the forehead once again.

The dinner went well, with Ligia talking and asking about how cool being the biggest boy band right now, the groups plan for the future, and keeps praising them and thanking them for all the music and inspiration they give to everyone. Namjoon feeds her with details about the preparation from the concerts while subtly keeping his hands tightly wrapped around your waist. He doesn’t want to be rude but you know he wants to rest now. When Ligia run out of things to say, she finally retreats. “so, how am I going home now?” she chuckled. “We’ll drop you off your apartment.” Replied the bodyguard. “What about you, Y/N?” she asked. “Oh she’s coming with me.” Namjoon replied casually. Her eyes wide and smirked, “oh..” You shake your head with her reaction. “Seems like you both are ready to bed, wearing pyjamas at concerts.” Namjoon chuckled.

After dropping Ligia, you went to your apartment to get some stuff. You decided to visit the boys and celebrate with them before they go to intense rehearsals for their upcoming world tour. They’re going to the US for couple of months and you have decided to stay rather than go with them, besides work needs you here and you haven’t had time to file your leave. You’re okay with it. You have manage more than a year without seeing each other, what is months compared to it. At least now, you know he’s just literally around the corner when they’re back home.

The boys greeted you one by one. They are as welcoming as ever, and unlike the previous encounter at the restaurant, Yoongi came in hugging you and ruffling your hair. “Welcome home, Y/N” he said. “Oh Yoongi, I missed you. Sorry about-“ he didn’t let you finish. “Let’s forget about it. It’s done. We’ll start anew!” He pulled you in and you settled beside Namjoon as they set up their table for after party. “Oh shit, we have VLive schedule! We promised ARMY!” reminded Jin. “Oh okay, no worries. I’ll leave you guys alone. Will just roam around Namjoon’s room” you said goodbye to them and settle in his room, opening your Vlive as if you’re not in the same house with them. When they started the live feed, you noticed your bag near Namjoon. “Shit!!! ARMY eyes!” you immediately texted him informing about the bag. He stood up and clumsily took your bag away. Comments came rushing on VLive asking about the bag and Jin trying to find a perfect excuse. “I am fond of bags” Hoseok saved him. “You want to see what’s inside my bag? Maybe I’ll do that on the next VLive.” He added. Namjoon came running inside, giving you your bag. “I’m sorry” you lowered your gaze. “Hey, it’s all good, Baby. Just an excuse to kiss you, I’ve been dying to kiss you!” He kissed you passionately until you hear the boys shouting for Namjoon. He immediately ran out, hair dishevelled and Taehyung almost choke laughing. “Hyung, your hair. A mess! You must’ve-” the boys cut him out and he realized he almost spilled the tea. They all laughed and being silly talking about everything they love about ARMY, the concert, and how excited they are for the upcoming world tour. They promised to go on live during their breaks and will go home as soon as it’s over. “We know you will be waiting for us, we will come back as soon as possible!” Namjoon promised. “In an instant, yeah hyung?” teased Taehyung once more, sending Namjoon blushing, and his eyes nowhere to be found. “Gosh, these guys” you laughed.

After the VLive ended, you went out and joined them to their after-party. He couldn’t take his hands off of you, drawing circles on your lower back. They are already getting drunk- Hoseok turning into tomato red, Seokjin louder than ever, Yoongi being savage but turns out he is really funny, Jimin can’t barely open his eyes from too much laughing, Jungkook dozing off, Taehyung started to sing every song on their new album, and your man whispering how excited he is to be finally introducing you to his family. You almost choke at his plan. Meeting his family is a big deal especially in their culture. You can’t just bring someone without being sure of your future with her. “You’re probably just drunk. Come on, let’s go!” you tried to pull him up but his stronger. He pulled you on his lap and start kissing you. “So this is what were witnessing every day?” Taehyung remarked. “Hmm mmm” Namjoon replied, mouth still exploring yours. “AISSHHH! Get a room!” Yoongi shouted. “That’s hot!” remarked Hoseok. “Oh my god! Stop! I’m getting turned on!” joked Jimin. You laughed and tried to push Namjoon away but he deepened the kiss. “Show off! Just clean up after your mess. Not a single drop in the our common area!” Seokjin exclaimed. “Baby-stop” you managed to finally free yourself from Namjoon. He laughed and you can now clearly see the expressions of the members. They have their phone on both of you, probably taking photos and videos for blackmailing. “Stop it, you guys!” you said embarrassed. You covered your face and they all laughed. “We’re just happy you are finally here, Y/N. Really. Namjoon’s glowing again. And he’s writing tracks more than ever” Hoseok commented. “I’m never leaving. I’m here to stay” you reassured them. “You’re gonna live here? Great! But I’m serious about the rule- if you’re going to do it in all common areas, please clean up” Seokjin commented. “No! Just learn how to knock in my room and even my studio, especially you Jimin and Jungkook” Namjoon replied. They both nodded, and the night ended with more laughter and more beer.

You woke up with a very bad headache and it took you minutes to make up where you are. Too many KAWS figures, bonsai plants, paintings… “Namjoon?” you immediately called out his name but he’s nowhere to be found. You went out and the boys greeted you, the living room smells like pancake and the maknaes running around chasing after the last banana milk that Jimin is holding. “Where’s Joonie?” you asked Jin while helping him prepare the table for breakfast. “RKive I think” he replied. You went there and smile at the sight of your man. Brows furrowed, lips plumped, he’s clearly in the zone of making another track he didn’t even noticed you walked in. “Baby, do you want to have your breakfast here?” you politely asked, trying not to disturbed him. “Oh, sorry I didn’t notice you, babe. Good morning, sunshine!” he enveloped you into tight hug and kissed your forehead. “What are you up to?” you asked, noticing the emptied coffee cups on his desk. “Working on new tracks. There are so much to do, I don’t want to miss the ideas that came rushing this morning” he pulled you into his lap and wrapped your arms around your waist. “Breakfast first, please? I don’t want you get sick especially you’re going away” you pouted. “Hmm, what about dessert first?” he whispered. You furrowed your brows, not sure if you have the same meaning of dessert. “What dessert?” you innocently asked. He pointed at his groin, which you notice a big tent. “Oh, need help with that?” you replied playfully. He winked and in an instant you pulled yourself up from his lap, turned his chair around and dropped on your knees. “Fuck,” he chuckled while quickly letting his fleece shorts drop. You are still amaze by the sight of Namjoon’s huge dick despite having to ride it many times before. The years without him, you haven’t forgot this amazing view and you’d relive it a million times. But right here, right now, you can’t help but be thankful of following your heart rather than living in what if’s. “Are you just gonna stare at it?” he chuckled. “You’re a god.” You managed to reply before slowly running your tongue along his shaft. You could hear his deep moans. He grabbed your hair to have better view of how you beautifully you suck his dick. You take it all in, tasting his sweet-salty precum. You circled you tongue on his tip, gently running from side to side, trying your best to please your man. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so fucking hot!” he managed to say in between his gripped teeth. Jaw clenching, and clearly trying not to go deeper to hurt you, you gathered all the courage and deep swallowed him whole until you can feel it at the back of your throat. His eyes were wide and he tightened his grip on your head “Shit baby! You’ve been a practicing?” he has a tinge of annoyance in his voice. You’re taken back to that night when you first had sex, it was still new to you. “hmm” you replied, sending the vibrations to every inch of his thick manhood. You let go for a second to catch your breath. “No, sir. It was you, only you!” And that’s the truth. No matter how intense your longing for him or any human touch, you’ve never bed a guy even after your break up. You can’t think of sucking other dicks except Namjoon’s. “Such a good girl,” he managed to reply before you started sucking him again. Namjoon’s moan is all you can ever hear in his studio and you start bobbing your head faster, determined to make him cum in your mouth. “Shit baby. I’m cumming… fuck.. Y/N ahh” he filled your mouth with his warm, heavenly juice. You looked at him and swallowed, making sure no drip on the carpet. You suck him clean! “Fuck that is so freaking hot!” he exclaimed while guiding you back to his lap. “Your turn, baby” he whispered. You bit your lips and gently shook your head. “What? Why? I want to make you feel good.” He pleaded. “Tonight, my love. You have full access” you teased and bit his earlobe. He groaned and laughed, pulling you closer to him.

You went out after Jin keeps on knocking, telling the food is getting cold. They were all shocked and started laughing when you emerge. “What the hell are you laughing at?” Namjoon answered. “You realized your door was not closed yeah?” Hoseok exclaimed, chuckling. You buried your self in Namjoon’s back in embarrassment, prayed that a UFO is real and that they’ll suck you up any second now. “Shit sorry” chuckled Namjoon. “Pft, it’s alright. It’s not like Hoseok has been silent during sex, too” Taehyung respond. “Hoseok?” you looked at his innocent smile. “Shut up, Taehyung. It was a one-night stand!” he yelled back laughing. You shake your head over their mischievousness, somewhat it comforts you. They are adults, indeed. And they need skin ship, too, like everyone else. Sometimes, seeing them playfully talk about adult stuff and just being their own selves inside their house makes me feel like they have another persona. Being an idol must’ve been tiring, especially they started too young, and society has been very keen to each move they make. You settled down and joined them for breakfast, thinking about how lucky you are to be spending these days with them.

World tour preparation was tiring, even for you. You decided to go home that night but Namjoon asked you to come back. “I really wanted to make up to you, spend the days here before we go for the tour. Please, baby?” he whispered with his cute little puppy eyes. You can’t help but say yes to his cuteness. He giggled like a playful kid before calling the security to drive you up in your apartment and pick few clothes and stuff. On your way back, you decided to buy the boys some ice cream cake and banana milk. It’s a small gesture as a thank you gift for welcoming you again in their home and being so supportive of you and Namjoon. Jimin yelp in joy when he saw the ice cream cake, and Jungkook immediately take the banana milk, carefully labelling each for the members. Jin continues to impress you with his cooking skills, making you feel embarrass for not cooking deliciously as he does. “Aish, Y/N! You will learn through the years. Even if you and Namjoon get married, you will still be with us so I can teach you all the cooking skills!” he said proudly. You blushed at the thought of you and Namjoon and marriage, but it’s too early to tell. You’re still starting over, testing waters,, though you are quite sure you can see him in your future. You noticed him missing again, while the guys are gathered up for a movie marathon. And then suddenly, Vlive notified you that BTS is live. You opened the notification and you see him showing off his new collections in his studio. You smiled proudly as he talks about the future plans of BTS and the new tracks he’s working on. Somewhere though, in the middle of his VLive he showed a pair of baby shoes. He said it’s for his collection, accessory of some sort. The tiny brown baby shoes! “Wooopppss, someone’s planning for the future.” Laughed Taehyung. “Oh my, you’re pregnant Y/N????” asked Jimin. “NO! no no no no no! Oh my god no!” you said blushing. “You can tell us. Are we going to be fathers?” insisted Hoseok. “No….I don’t know. No!” you said laughing. It is impossible, you haven’t had sex yet. But of course, you can’t say that to them, a little privacy is precious especially living with them. You immediately sent him a message:

You: Kim Namjoon, are you out of your fucking mind? The boys are grilling me now asking if THEY ARE GOING TO BE FATHERS?! WTH does that even mean?

You saw him on Vlive reading something and he laughed. You are not sure if he’s reading vlive comments or he’s reading your message. Either way, you have forgiven him for such silliness, especially seeing him how he brightens up when he showed the baby shoes. One day, someday, Joonie you promised yourself. When the VLive ended, you stared at him trying to look mad. He laughed and scooped you from your sit, twirling you around before sitting and putting you on his lap. You saw Taehyung grinning as if thinking of mischievous things. “So, baby shoes huh?” he started. “Taehyung, stop. I am not pregnant” you laughed. “Well, not for now.” He replied making you shake your head. “When that time comes, we will let you know, Tae” Namjoon reassured, “But for now, Y/N are going to bed. Might as well you guys too. Long day ahead tomorrow. Meeting with Bang PDnim and the tour team.” He added. The guys all had mischievous smiles as they say their goodnights to you.

“Urgh today’s tiring, and I missed you!” he whined. “I was just out to get my stuff, you missed me already? What will happen to you when you’re in tour?” you asked. “Come with me?” His question came as a surprise. “Baby you know I can’t do that. People will start to wonder.”

“But what if Bighit hires you?” he insisted. “As what? Translator? You already know English. You’ve been doing it since then.” You laughed at the idea of being their translator. “No, no, baby. You’re needed. I’ll talk to Bang and-“you didn’t let him finish. You put one finger on his mouth to make him drop the topic. “Baby, I’m okay with my work now. And if you ask Bang PDnim, he might refuse. Code of conduct, all the policies..you know.” You sighed. “But you’re my girlfriend before they hire you, so technically we didn’t breach employee policies?” His being a smart-ass on this one, he has a point though. “I would love to stay by your side all the time, but it will look like a huge favour and special treatment especially I am your girlfriend” you insisted. “Just please try?” he kissed your forehead. He’s not going to drop this of until you sighed and nodded. He smiled sweetly and kissed you. It was a sweet, passionate kiss at first but the moment you hold unto his neck, you can feel the heat throughout your body. It’s been too long, way too long, that you’ve been wanting to feel him. You cannot hold on any longer so you deepened the kiss. You heard him let out a moan, a cue that he wants what you want as well. Tongues teasing, lip-biting. His hands roamed around your body, tightened his grip on your waist and gently laid you on the bed. “Lock the door!” you reminded him. He jumped as quickly, almost tripping which made you giggle at his clumsiness, and in less than 5 seconds he’s back on top of you. “Oh finally! All mine!” he whispered, almost ripping his shirt as he struggled to get off. You can feel your core getting hot, with every kiss and touch. He bites your lips teasingly, making you moan. You deepened the kiss getting as aggressive as he is. He found your sweet spot on your neck, sucking and biting, leaving marks as he goes down to the curves of your breast. He removes your dress in one swift motion, leaving you in your lace bra and panties. His gaze turning dark as he roams his eyes through your breast down to your core. “So fucking gorgeous! And all mine!” he whispered as he licks your cleavage making you tighten your grip on his hair. “and fucking taste good, too" he added. You prepared for this night, wearing a front-lock red brassiere that screams fuck me daddy. “Strip for me", he commanded. “Hmm, all bossy are we?” you teased. “Do it or you’re not gonna have any of this" he grinned while removing his boxers. His dick hard, reddish, and ready. You bit your lips and stood up. “Don’t make a move, don’t dare touch yourself “ you commanded. Two can play this game, you thought. He grinned and positioned himself on the bed frame. You slowly pull one strap, so slow he groaned. You are basically eye-fucking him, if there’s even a thing. To his surprise, you started slow dancing as you unlock your bra. Throwing it in front of him. You can hear him groaning and trying hard not to touch himself with your own little show. “Fuck, baby. I can’t wait to slide my cock on that” he growled. “hmmm I’d love that. Can’t wait to feel the friction here…” you touched your nipples and slowly caress your breast. You glide your hands on your stomach, “and here, too. Your hot mouth sucking, biting…” You slowly, soooo slowly, shake your hips to get out of your lace underwear, “your tongue, fingers, and your hard cock here" you were about to touch your self but he grabbed you, spinning you around, dropping you on the mattress. You moaned by his aggressiveness and eagerness. “Oh Baby, can’t wait to fuck you hard, you’ll be sore for days!” he whispered as he playfully bite your nipple. “oh shit, Joon!” you moaned. You can feel your core dripping. You needed some friction. You started grinding getting ready to take whatever Namjoon’s going to offer. “Look at you so needy" he suck your breast so hard you know it’ll leave marks and bruises the next day. You tried pulling him, scratching his porcelain skin. “Baby, pleasssee" you beg. “Say it. What do you want, Princess?” he grinned. “touch me! Fuck Namjoon. Or…or thighs! Friction. Now!” you

almost scream. He chuckled and pulled you, making you sit on one of his thigh. “You asked for thigh. Thigh is all you get" You take it, whatever that could satisfy your longing. You grind, not minding the mess and juice scattered on his precious well-tone thigh. “fuck, I can feel your wetness! You’re wild!” he chuckled. “shut up, suck me" you guided his head on your neck. You want him to leave marks all over your body, a mark that signs you’re his and he’s yours. And he did. You moaned by the intensity of each bite, but it’s not enough. “fuck me, baby. Hard" You’re almost begging. “thought you’d never ask" he replied.

He guides you and you slowly sink into his long, thick, hot rod. Your wetness helping you both settle, adjusting to each other. “shit your tight. And wet..god Y/N” he moaned. With each grunt and moan and sucking he does, it gives you more courage to be rough at him, too. You started circling your hips, and he let’s you do as you please. He tightens his grips into your waist and pumps you until you both find your rhythm. “baby, I'm cumming" you bite his shoulder to muffle your own moan. “Go ahead, baby. Cum for me. You’re a hot mess and fuck I love you so much!” he continued going deeper and deeper until you reach your high. “Turn around, hold here" he guides your hands to the bed frame and lifts your butt, slapping it before sinking in real deep. “fuck Namjoon!” you yelped with the sudden sting, but it feels you nice you have to ask again. He circled his hips, hard and deep, one hand on your waist and the other in your boob. Too much sensation, overwhelming and with every thrust you can hear the bed frame creaking. You had to try not to scream with each thrust, so you suck on Namjoon's finger instead, biting it at the process but he didn’t care. He’s too focus riding you and making sure you hear his praises about you and moaning your name. “baby, where do you---" you didn’t let him finish his question, you tightened your walls around him making him moan louder “inside!” you replied. You reach your high at the same time, moaning each other’s name. He gently pressed and massage your navel as you come to stop, making you feel good as you both calm down. “Wow baby!” he chuckled as you both collapse to the bed. He flips you over and kissed your forehead, then your lips. As sweetly, passionately, and heavenly. “I love you, Y/N” he whispered on your lips. “I love you, my Namjoon" you replied, making him blush.

“I missed fucking you that hard,” he chuckled, as you both catch your breaths. “We have all the time, baby!” you responded, enveloped in his arms. “But… how are we going to explain the ripped sheets?” you added. “We might need to stock up linens here from now on,” he replied.

After cleaning up, he went out to look for fresh linens. Luckily, the guys are all asleep now, more like you prayed they’re really asleep now, realizing how hard and loud he made you cum. “Baby, please consider joining us in our tour? Even just this leg? I can’t bear a day without you..not again?” he whispered when you’re both settling to sleep. “I promise. I’ll take a vacation leave and if it’s approved, I’ll come. Don’t get your hopes up just yet. I’m not going to drop my work; I’ll just try being your translator for this leg.” He made a cute face, the one that his dimples are showing, eyes closed, and then getting shy right after. Your heart melts every time he does that and wonder how lucky you are to have him in your life. Yes, you are never going to let go. Not anymore. He deserves the world, he deserves someone who he can share the real Namjoon with, someone who will be his shoulder through ups and downs. Someone who can accept all the flaws and cons of dating someone like him. You are ready to fight for him, against all odds. You are ready to give your life to Kim Namjoon.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Author's note: Planned to end it here but I guess I'll be making Part Three soon 😂🤷‍♀️

[sambergscott]

Lights Out

Summary: The elevator jolts and the lights flicker, before plunging them into total darkness. There's a Brooklyn-wide power outage, they're stuck in the precinct elevator and Amy is claustrophobic AF. Then her water breaks.

Based on this amazing (!!!) s7 finale theory by @luna-minerva​. Thank you so much for letting me turn that into this. I really, really hope you love it. 

She has a birth plan written out by her sixth month of pregnancy detailing her preferences for labor — dimmed lights, calming music, an epidural, Jake by her side at all times — laminated in the apartment, her go bag (already pre-packed in their family friendly sedan) and her everyday purse. She sent copies to her doctor, both their parents and Captain Holt, printed one for Jake to keep at work and saved a digital copy in the Notes app on both their phones. Just in case.

(“Single spaced, double sided: Santiago Style,” Jake grins when she hands over the final draft.

“Of course. It’s an important document about the most important moment of our lives. I want everything to go smoothly.”)

And for most of her pregnancy, it does. She sends him out for pierogis, potato pancakes and hot chocolate most nights, cries over every car commercial on TV and waddles around the apartment making sure everything is perfect for when the baby arrives. The doctor assures her that they’re both healthy, but she should take an early maternity leave, given the stresses of her job.

She survives for one day before she’s back at the precinct, prompting several raised eyebrows and whispers from around the bullpen. Ignoring all of them, she hitches her purse onto her shoulder, lifts her head, and marches determinately to her old desk.

“FOMOW?” Jake guesses with an amused smile.

“It’s not FOMOW,” she huffs in annoyance. “I just finished organising the nursery and since I was passing the precinct, I figured I’d come visit my husband, if that’s OK with you.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” he holds his hands up. “I’ve missed having a beautiful lady to look up at when my paperwork gets boring.” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully. “I suppose you’ll do.”

She rolls her eyes, sitting down and trying to make herself as comfortable as possible, a difficult task when you’re as big as a whale and your back has been aching all day.

“Peralta,” Holt’s new assistant barks as he leaves Holt’s office, “you missed some signatures on this report.” He drops it on top of all the other open case files, candy wrappers and clutter on Jake’s desk, a welcome change from the way Gina would turn their work into paper airplanes and fly them across the bullpen. As Jake starts scribbling his name, Holt’s assistant notices Amy. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Oh, I’m OK. I work here. Well, I used to work here. I’m on maternity leave.”

“Of course,” he nods, realisation spreading across his face. “You’re Sergeant Santiago. Captain Holt mentions you constantly.”

“He does?” She clutches her heart. “Jake, did you hear that? Holt mentions me.”

He mouths “dork” and she sticks her tongue out at him.

“So when’s the baby due? You look ready to pop any day now.”

“Two weeks,” Jake answers on her behalf, sensing danger. The ‘ready to pop’ comment has been driving her crazy for weeks. She is well aware of her size and does not need perfect strangers reminding her. She’s pregnant, not a contestant on America’s Next Top Model. She’s supposed to be big. He shoves the signed documents into Holt’s assistant’s hands and glances apprehensively back at his wife. “You OK?”

“Mm-hmm.” She plasters on a brave face. “Can’t believe I’m saying this but I actually miss Gina.”

Jake snorts and presses play on CCTV footage of a robbery.

She twists her engagement ring on her finger, braids the ends of her hair and straightens a pile of folders on the desk. She is something of a workaholic and not being able to do anything is torture. “Any cool cases you’re working on?” She asks Jake, because what else are husbands for if not living vicariously through their work while on maternity leave?

“Hipster coffee shop got broken into last night. The owner was devastated that she had to drink Starbucks this morning like the rest of us instead of her fancy $8 million gold infused coffee blend from Outer Mongolia.”

“At least she gets to drink coffee,” Amy responds snarkily.

“Worth it though,” he grins. “And I’ll be your personal in-home barista once this baby is out.”

“Thanks, babe. You’re the sweetest.” She rounds their desks to give him a chaste kiss (she may not be in work but they are still at work), when something catches her eye on the screen. She instructs him to rewind the video, pointing out that the intruder has the same bone structure and blonde hair as the owner behind the counter.

Jake gasps. “It was an inside job!”

A failing business tries to scam the insurance company; it’s a tale as old as time.

He grabs his phone, gun and jacket in a rush to arrest the owner before they skip town.

“Can I come with you?”

“What?”

“I want to come with you. I’m the one who solved the case.”

“You’re pregnant. You can’t.”

“I’ll walk ahead of you, pretend I’m just a normal customer,” she pleads. “You know I’m good at going undercover. Remember Dora?”

“Of course I remember Dora, Johnny loved Dora, but this is different. It’s too dangerous.”

“They own a hipster coffee shop, Jake,” she deadpans. “They’re not going to hurt a pregnant lady. I’m FOMOWing so bad, I just want to be there.”

“Ames-.”

“Please, Jake,” she kicks her persuasion tactics up a few notches, pulling out the doe eyes and pout that she knows he can’t resist.

“Fine,” he concedes before she starts crying and playing the “I’m having your baby” card. “You can come. But if anything dangerous goes down, you have to get out of there straight away. You can’t get involved.”

“Deal.” She shakes his hand firmly (she took a refresher seminar a few months ago) and retrieves her purse from her old desk, following him to the elevator like old times. Peralta and Santiago off to take down bad guys (and look good doin’ it). Of course, there will be no actual taking down of bad guys nine months pregnant, although she could do it if she wanted to, she’s definitely felt the urge to kick Charles in the shin whenever he brings them disgusting foods or tries to kiss her belly.

Just being there is enough for now.

She speeds up, reaching the elevator before him and pressing the down button first. She smirks at him over her shoulder and steps inside when the doors open. Despite being married and expecting a kid together, their competitive edge has never wavered. In the last few months alone, they’ve bet on the sex of the baby, who would cry first when they heard the heartbeat, what fruit or vegetable their baby is that week and who can put a diaper on a football fastest. Bets are the cornerstone of their relationship — the original bet sparking Jake’s realisation that he liked her liked her — and Amy can’t wait for their kids to join in when they’re old enough.

(Kids, plural, because for some reason, even after difficulty conceiving and morning sickness and FOMOW, she would still go through pregnancy all over again. They don’t quite want eight like her parents, but at least one more would be nice).

Rosa’s black boots stop the elevator doors closing and she squeezes through the gap. “Got an early lunch date,” she explains.

“Oh,” Amy says, sharing A Look™️ with Jake. Rosa hasn’t dated anyone since Jocelyn dumped her, choosing to be on her own for a while since she hasn’t really had time alone to process her almost marriage to Pimento, prison and coming out. Repairing her relationship with her parents has been her #1 priority and this is the first Amy’s heard about her seeing someone new. “Is it... serious?” She tries not to push too hard because otherwise Rosa will just close off (it’s pointless asking about names or jobs or appearance), which is hard because she just wants her to be as happy as she is with Jake, but also knows from past experience that Rosa will eventually reveal the information when she’s ready.

“It could be,” she responds vaguely. “I like her, but she’s a doctor so we both work way too much.”

“Well, I hope it works out. You deserve someone really great.”

Rosa pulls her in for a tight, unexpected hug. “Thanks, Santiago,” she murmurs, her voice cracking as if she’s about to cry.

The elevator jolting and lights flickering ruins the moment. After a few terrifying seconds, it stops completely and they are plunged into darkness.

Amy’s blood runs cold, panic filling her lungs. She’s had this nightmare a million times, having suffered with claustrophobia ever since her brothers locked her in a closet as a kid.

She hears Jake’s “cool, cool, cool, cool, cool” and Rosa saying that it’s probably a power cut, but she can’t speak. She can’t do anything but think about how they’re never going to get out and how the squad will have to send them food supplies through the safety hatch in the ceiling and how they’ll have to raise their baby in this tiny metal box, teaching her to count using the buttons to the different precinct floors.

She feels pain, a fun combination of Braxton Hicks that she’s been having for weeks and panic attack. She tries to focus on her breathing and not on the four walls closing in on her. When the breathing techniques fail, she focuses on Jake.

Kind, funny, handsome Jake. Her husband, but more than that, her best friend. She concentrates on the toothpaste stain on the front of his shirt, his unruly curls that she loves so much, the ring on his finger glinting in the light from Rosa’s phone. His own phone is pressed to his ear and she can only hear one side of the conversation but it’s clear that he’s debriefing Holt.

“- Me, Amy, Rosa -"

“- We’re fine, just stuck -"

“- How long?  -”

“Shit.” He hangs up, pocketing his phone. “Power’s out everywhere. Our back-up generators haven’t kicked in, something about air in the fuel system. The fire department are busy with the blackout and we’re apparently not an emergency, so. We could be in here a while.”

“Shit,” Rosa echoes his sentiment.

“Yeah. You OK, Ames?” He turns his attention to her.

She shakes her head meekly.

“Claustrophobic?” Rosa guesses, remembering her reaction to being locked in the trunk when she was trying to get her and Gina to face their fears.

She nods.

“We can play Celebrity to distract ourselves. I’ll go first. He’s the greatest actor -.”

“Bruce Willis,” Amy and Rosa say at the same time.

“Thought I’d give you an easy one to start,” he blushes.

Amy almost laughs despite the overwhelming fear. She loves him, Bruce Willis obsession and all. She takes a few seconds to think of someone good. Then, “They’re in - oh - water -.”

“They’re in water?” Rosa repeats, confused. “You mean like Jaws?”

“Or Finding Dory?” Jake adds. He made her watch the movie with him after Pimento’s Memento disease and now wants to buy a fish and call it Dory, even though he famously killed her fish back when they were dating. “Is it Ellen?”

“No, my water.”

Jake and Rosa both look down in horror. She buries her face in her hands. As if this situation could not get any worse.

“At least this classifies us as an emergency now,” Jake quips.

Rosa does Amy a favour and punches him in the arm.

--

They notify Holt — who in turn notifies the FDNY — and Jake sends a text to both their parents.

Rosa climbs onto Jake’s shoulders and opens the safety hatch so Charles can lower a care package of towels and bottled water into the elevator.

(He also delivers Sour Candies, upon Jake’s request).

Terry tries to pull the doors apart, but even his tree trunk arms are no match for the heavy metal.

Amy breathes through her contractions, stubbornly determined to stick to her birth plan and give birth in the hospital.

Her body, however, has other ideas.

“Four minutes apart now,” Rosa announces. She punches a wall out of frustration. “Where the hell are those firefighters?”

“They’re not going to make it in time,” Jake responds, equally frustrated. “Camila warned me months ago that Santiago babies come early, fast and are always boys.”

“This baby is half-Peralta and a girl. She might be the exception.” Amy takes a sip of water, ignoring the look of disbelief on Jake’s face.

“Diaz, you went to med school, tell my wife that this baby isn’t going to wait.”

Rosa opens her mouth to speak but Amy cuts her off.

“Diaz, tell my husband that the contractions aren’t even that painful and we have time.”

--

As it turns out, they don’t have time at all.

She’s feels pressure, the urge to push, and not even the glug glug glug of Rosa’s babbling brook sounds can calm her down.

“I do not want to give birth in the precinct elevator,” she cries.

Jake, on back rubbing duty, exchanges nervous glances with Rosa. She’s fully dilated and with the fire department still busy tackling other emergencies, this is happening. Right here. Right now.

“You know, it’s actually kind of perfect, Ames. We first met outside this elevator, right? And I kept the elevator doors open to let you win the Jimmy Jabs because of my massivecrush on you. And then you let me win to save our car. We fell in love in this precinct. It’s where we had our first for realz kiss, where we got engaged, where we got married. It’s kind of fitting that it’s also where our baby is going to be born.”

She tilts her head back to kiss him, ignoring Rosa’s complaints that they’re gross.

She thinks back to her wedding vows. Not everything is in our control, but as long as you’re with the right people you can handle anything. And you, Jake Peralta, are the right person for me. She can handle this with Jake by her side. She can bring their daughter into the world.

“OK... I’m ready.”

“That’s my girl,” Jake says proudly, shuffling into a better position to hold her hand and see the baby when she comes out.

They all disinfect their hands with Purrell from Amy’s purse and Rosa explains what’s going to happen and Jake jokes that he feels like Sandra Oh in Grey’s Anatomy.

Rosa rolls her eyes. “Christina was a heart surgeon, dumb dumb. You’re thinking of Addison. What?” She questions at their surprised expressions. “I like Grey’s Anatomy! It makes me feel things! I’m not totally heartless.”

Amy releases a string of expletives as another contraction starts.

“We’re going to start pushing on the next one,” Rosa instructs, forgetting her favourite medical drama.

Amy nods quickly.

Jake brushes fallen strands of hair away from her sweat-covered skin and takes her hand. “Squeeze as hard as you need to, babe.”

--

No amount of studying or listening to her mom’s stories could prepare her for the pain of pushing a baby out. It’s worse than the time her brother pushed her off the monkey bars when she was eight and she broke her arm, worse than the time she got shot in the line of duty, worse than the heartbreak of Jake being sentenced to 15 years in prison. It’s worse than anything she’s ever experienced and when it’s over she has so many questions for her mom, including why on Earth did she do this so many times?!

She’s also going to thank Jake for not complaining once and buy Rosa many drinks for her part in all this.

Having her colleague deliver her baby was definitely not part of the birth plan, but out of everyone they work with, she’s glad that it’s Rosa.

Rosa who’s been there for Jake since the Academy.

Rosa who has always had her back, too, who comforted her when Jake was in Florida, helped get her to her Sergeant’s exam on time and encouraged Jake to ask her out.

(And thank God she did).

--

Labor is exhausting.

It’s painful and emotional and long.

“You’re so close,” Jake cheers her on when she hits a wall.

“He’s right. I can see her head. One more push, Santiago.”

“I can’t-.”

“You can,” Rosa insists. “1,000 push ups.”

“OK,” she whispers. Rosa doesn’t just throw around 1,000 push ups willy nilly. It means something. And if Rosa is so confident that she can do this, then she can do it.

She pushes and pushes and eventually hears a baby’s cry.

It’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard.

When Rosa places her in Amy’s arms for immediate skin-to-skin, all four of them are openly weeping.

She’s the most perfect person she’s ever seen.

“I love you both so much,” Jake murmurs, kissing the top of Amy’s head. He leans down to kiss his daughter, too, marvelling over the fact that he gets to say my daughter now.

They cuddle for a while, quietly bickering over who she looks most like. They decide that she has Jake’s hair, nose and mouth and, when she opens her eyes for a second to see what all the fuss is about, he is thrilled to discover that she has the same beautiful eyes as her mom.

They wrap her up in Jake’s favourite blue hoodie to keep her warm and Rosa snaps their first official family portrait and sends it to their parents, Amy’s brothers and the Nine-Nine’s WhatsApp group. She reads out the messages of congratulations that fly in, making Jake and Amy both cry some more.

Finally she interrupts their family time to cut the cord, pulling out her pocket knife and lighter from her leather jacket.

Jake’s eyes go comically wide. “You’re going to use a knife?”

“Do you have any other suggestions?” She snaps.

He falls silent.

“Thought so.” She sterilises the blade (recently sharpened following Brad Leone’s tutorial from the BA Test Kitchen) with her lighter and carefully cuts the umbilical cord.

“Say thank you Tía Rosa,” Amy coos, stroking her daughter’s tiny hand.

“Tía?”

“Mm-hmm,” Amy hums with a tired smile. “We were going to ask you to be her godmother anyway, but I think you have more than earned that role now.”

“I’d be honoured,” she responds.

--

After another hour and a half stuck in the elevator, the lights come back on, the elevator doors open with a ping and they are suddenly faced with a crowd of concerned police officers, firefighters and paramedics, little Maya Peralta gracing the rest of the world in the most dramatic of fashion.

The firefighters spring into gear, holding the elevator doors shut while others help Amy into an awaiting wheelchair.

Jake hovers next to the paramedics as they check Maya’s vitals. Thankfully, everything is normal, they clean her up and replace Jake’s blood-stained hoodie with a warm blanket.

“She’s perfect,” the female paramedic tells him as she hands Maya back to her dad, confirming what he knew the second he laid eyes on her.

They then turn their attention to Amy, who is fine — more than fine, she’s the happiest she’s ever been — just a little sore. They decide to take them both into hospital as a precautionary measure since Maya is two weeks early (Santiago Style!), packing up their equipment while Jake and Amy introduce the Nine-Nine’s newest recruit to the rest of the squad.

Terry says something about little girls being the best, Hitchcock and Scully claim not to have known Amy was even pregnant and Holt’s stoic façade crumbles when Maya grips his finger with her entire hand.

Charles’ eyes are red and puffy like he’s been crying, but he’s uncharacteristically calm when Jake asks if he wants to hold her. He nods, of course, and is enamoured with her the moment he feels her weight in his arms.

This isn’t how she planned it —none of it is — she wanted the controlled hospital birth and the grandparents to meet the baby first and she really wanted to catch the perp from the coffee shop robbery, but Jake was right. It’s kind of perfect that she was born here, in the Nine-Nine, surrounded by their second family.

She meets her husband’s eye and smiles.

[viohra]

Your favorite numbers as well as 13, 12, 21, 39, 51, 57, and 100

Favourite numbers: 13, 17, 19, 23, 29, 31, 73, 91, 97

12. Do you have the feeling you’ve lost something you might have had in another life - whether it be a person, a place, a world, a language, etc.?

Yes. My real native language, finnish.

13. Do you believe in reincarnation?

No, although I’d love to be wrong

17. Did you have imaginary friends? Do you still have them?

Yes, and now they've become characters in my stories.

19. If you aren’t religious, do you wish you were? Why?

No, and fuck no. I don't need a higher power to explain the world and I believe organised religion is a cancer. Don't get me wrong, I don't judge you if you are religious, but I will hold your actions to a higher standard (insert reason why I come down on xtians pretty hard). Spiritual people are chill, it's just not who I am. I can play the part tho, and I usually tell people I’m spiritual (and even made my own belief system) to play a cover so that people don't treat me poorly for being atheist.

21. Do you have somebody, whether it be a friend or stranger, who you think you could have loved if the circumstances were different?

Yes. My old friend Svetlana back home… she told me 3 years ago that if I stayed we’d probably have ended up together (AN: never tell someone this. Please.). I also have one person and three other friends that maybe if situations were slightly different it might have worked out.

The one person was the bestfriend of my second ex (the one that destroyed my mental health 😁) and I had basically a choice between them and… I chose poorly. But it wouldntve worked out in the long run because she was/is an alcoholic that could outpace ME even though I was twice her height and weight and had a gene advantage. Kinda ruined our friendship when, during my breakup with her bff, a family friend of of hers died. Now she was isolating me as was the entire friend group, save for my best friend Nik, who lived with me. Well she showed up (unannounced WITH my fuckin ex) to my house to get comfort from Nik and me and I ruined what was left of our friendship, ironically, when I asked “are we still going to be friends after this?” which is an HONEST FUCKING QUESTION. The hell I'll be used for emotional support just to be shunned and isolated again. The fuck.

The other three were friends from school. One was very Christian and very hung up on previous relationship. The second… well that was purely fucked up timing and circumstance. I honestly think I missed a huge life event there… but we're still friends. The last one was also timing and then became a geographical reason we didn't come together… that one was also a big shame…

23. Is love about convenience or something more? Can it be about both?

It's about finding someone you can truly be yourself around and relax with and be vulnerable with and be secure with. “Convenience” isn't an appropriate term to describe it.

29. Do you believe in some form of god/s?

No

31. Do you have a hunch about how you’re going to die?

Yes— I'll either die in a vehicular collision or I will be shot

39. Do you know what you want out of life?

Yes. I have a clear plan and I’m working towards it

51. What question could you ask to find out the most about a person?

I hit them with FORTE: family, occupation, recreation, travel, education. Then when we're chummy I start asking questions like these.

57. Do you thinks humans are obsessed with escapism (books, video games, movies, etc.)? Are you looking for an escape? Do you think that’s a bad thing?

I just think we like to have a good time. “Escapism” sounds so negative when we really just want to hang out and relax and enjoy things that entertain us. The whole “escaping from reality” schtick sounds so… judgmentally christian

73. Would you fight for your country? Do you feel a sense of loyalty to your nation?

Theoretically— itd not be out of a sense of duty to the nation per se, but a recognition of my expertise and abilities. I'm loyal to my friends and family and those I swear loyalty to. I'll fight for a cause I believe in. Those who know, know.

91. Is hate as strong as love? Who do you hate?

Depends. Hate ranges from “fuck that guy” to “this guy causes me physical harm just being around them”, the latter being as strong as love since that's basically the polar opposite. I strongly hate all the people who've harmed me like my parents and my first two exes; I casually hate sooooo many other people.

And it's not an “unhealthy emotion”. It's an emotion, no more healthy or unhealthy as love or happiness or sadness. Letting it be your only personality trait is unhealthy, but that's applicable to all emotions in my opinion.

97. Are you overly analytical?

Yes, to the point that it can cause overthinking. Because of that I end up not realising interpersonal things because I try to overcompensate and convince myself that my (later confirmed correct) assumption was overthinking. Ugh.

100. What belief do you have that isn’t logically grounded, but you still firmly believe in?

I can one day return home to settle down