#this industry is not for the weak or faint of heart

[aizenat]

Kpop fans make no sense. Le sserafim has proven on multiple occasions that they can’t sing. And these Coachella performances put it on full display front and center. And even the ppl criticizing the performance and how bad they sound keep repeating it “the girls don’t deserve hate” and I’m like wtf do these idiots think this is? A hs popularity contest?

This is the fucking MUSIC INDUSTRY. Know what that means? You’re in the business of making music. And guess what you need to be able to do in that case? Fucking sing. If you can’t sing, get the fuck off the fucking stage. Yes I’m booing you. Yes I’m saying you suck. What else am I supposed to do? Just hum how sad you sing bad and then keep streaming and supporting you despite your inability to the do the bare minimum required to be in this industry? Fucking jlo can hold a note better than these hoes. JLO!

Like honestly, kpop fans are so delusional. They could never last in the music industry for real lol. You know how often and how much artists get torn down when they’re talented? Look at Beyonce and Megan thee Stallion. Fuck, look at Dua Lipa! When she got called out for being a shit performer, did she make excuses like “I tried my best and my audience had fun so there’s that?” No! She got in the studio, hired some dance instructors and choreographers, and put her ass to work. Now this bitch is singing on apparatuses and shit like it’s easy. THAT’S what artists worth our time and attention and praise do. They put in the fucking work.

Maybe if kpop idols focused more on doing the work than starving themselves skinny, practicing how to take selfies, and filming tik toks, they could fucking sing.

And Sakura is too old to be acting this obtuse and stupid. “We’re a rookie group” like okay yes, and? What that got to do with the price of tea in china? Britney went from promoting at malls to selling out stadiums within two years of her “debuting.” And she was dancing and singing with steady vocals. And like Britney even in her time was not the best vocalist we had to offer. Fucking Christina Aguilera was right there! Hell Pink is a much better singer than Britney! And that’s not even including BLACK singers who would dance circles around them!

This is why I refuse to tolerate this shit. If this is the best kpop has to offer, then why listen to it? Hybe and many other labels are trying to remove the k from kpop, and their best acts aren’t even good enough to be background dancers to our (American) most mid artists. Like this is embarrassing.

I was listening to Wonder Girls The DJ is Mine featuring School Gyrls and while those girls never went anywhere, School Gyrls could sing. And when I first heard the song, I didn’t even realize that there was an American girl girl on the track because Wonder Girls’ vocals were on par with the American girls. And that was the standard in second gen. Fucking Wonder Girls weren’t even the best second gen had to offer (and I say this as a very loyal wonderful) and they could hold their own vocally with American singers.

But these recent idols could NEVER no matter how hard they work at it. Fucking Demi Lovato was on that remix of le serrafim’s English version of eve psyche and Bluebeard’s wife, and I still remember the way when I was listening to that for the first time how I woke the fuck up when Demi starting singing because the difference in how amazing she sounded compared to le serrafim on their own fucking track was wild to me. And Demi is also not the best singer we have to offer! She might make some ppls top 100 vocalists, but only braindead Disney kids would put her in their top 50, and she sure as hell is no one’s top 20 or 10. And that’s not a dig but just to show how far the gap is. Demi isn’t even the best we have to offer and she’s singing circles around these girls on their own track? What does that say about them?

Oh I know! They fucking suck!

I’m not giving them a pass nor giving them excuses nor tolerating this. This is the music industry in America sweeties. And guess what? When you suck, we dunk on you. Can’t sing and we’re laughing and mocking you. If this was the Apollo, Black folk would be throwing tomatoes. No cookout invite for you tired hoes. Get the fuck out of here. No mercy for the weak too focused on being pretty than good at your fucking job. If we dunked on summer walker for canceling her tour due to anxiety when she can actually sing but was boring as hell on stage, why do you expect better treatment when you can’t even sing?

We’re not giving these mugs a handicap. You wanna tour in the us and promote here? Then get good. Period. And if you can’t, then get the fuck off the stage and stick with the inkigayo performances. Just don’t actually win because god forbid yall have to sing a fucking encore stage and everyone hears your live vocals again.

[agustdtown1]

Prompt no. 15 with Taehyung

PAIRING: kim taehyung x fem!reader.

WC: 2.4k

WARNINGS: the prompt is in bold, age gap (th is 35 & reader is 25), smut 18+, unprotected sex, dom!taehyung, idk if it would actually count as degradation but I’m throwing it in there just in case, idk tae just likes to make fun of reader and how desperate she is for him 🤷🏻‍♀️, doggy, chocking, slight clit slapping, a bit of masturbation (on readers end), sir kink, begging and a whole lotta petnames; btw this is not proofread.

A/N: thank you for your request, i hope you like it! I enjoyed writing this one sm.

prompt list | event masterlist | general masterlist

Unapproachable, stoic, cold-hearted and undeniably handsome, that’s what Kim Taehyung was. A man of many qualities and few flaws, one that could make any woman —or man, for that matter— weak in the knees with a single glance. His elegant mannerisms often drew people’s attention towards him, making it impossible to avoid unwanted social interactions wherever he went. Taehyung didn’t like the undivided attention he has gained over the years, which in retrospect he should have known it was going to be a given after building a successful empire in the entertainment industry. Nonetheless, the man didn’t like being the center of attention most of the time.

Luckily for him, there were times when his solemn demeanor would make people think twice before trying to talk to him, and rightfully so, for every single attempt to start a conversation with him was quickly shut down with a stern gaze and a grimace that —according to the man himself— resembled a grin. His cold attitude, however, was exactly what drew you in.

The first time you met Kim Taehyung you couldn’t believe a man like him was even real. He presented himself before you at the gala that you and your family attended every year. The man was tall enough to tower over you; his dark hair was combed nicely to leave his forehead free, giving him an elegant look; his eyes, oh his eyes, those dark brown orbs who stared you down with such a fierce gaze knocked the air out of you. But what really sealed the deal was the ghost of a smile taking place on his lips. It would be a lie to say you weren’t looking at him all night, it was quite hard not to in all honesty. Hence, you realized the tall man was not fond of smiling at others, but oddly enough he was willing to show you a grin, albeit a bit feeble, but a grin nonetheless.

“This is not your type of party.” It wasn’t a question or a guess; the dark-haired man spoke with such firmness that it made you doubt just how well you knew yourself. “It’s quite obvious.”

Taehyung didn’t show any sort of emotion on the outside, but deep inside he was trying to conceal an amused smile; he knew girls like you would kill to be anywhere else than in such a boring event. Like drinking an obscene amount of cheap vodka at a cramped bar, while your friends were trying their best to move to the beat of any trendy song at the moment; the night would undoubtedly end with you hooking up with a random guy.

Oh how he missed being young and free.

However, that was exactly what you didn’t want nor needed to do. After facing such a nasty break up, the last thing you wanted to do was mess around with just any guy that comes walking straight to you. A change of scenery is what you desperately needed, and maybe, just maybe, a man like Kim Taehyung would be the perfect remedy for that.

“I’m going to show you how a real man fucks.”

The idea of fucking a man that was ten years older than you was completely preposterous, but perhaps that’s exactly why you decided to follow through and act on your impulsive thoughts. It was stupid to believe you would be able to get in between the sheets with a man like Kim Taehyung; unrealistic, too good to be true. Therefore, the consequences that you were most likely going to face in the near future didn’t feel too serious for you to decline his offer to fuck you senseless. And with a faint fuck it, you started the memory of a night that would be too difficult to forget.

Taehyung’s hands were all over your body, caressing your skin as if it was the most delicate porcelain he’s ever touched. His lips were leaving burning kisses up and down your neck, stealing gasps whenever he used his teeth to place a harsh mark on your tender flesh. The sensations were too much to bear and he had barely done anything.

“I need more.” A small plea for the pleasure you were eagerly seeking. “Don’t tease me, please.”

“I wanted to take my sweet time with you.” He mentioned, pulling away from the crook of your neck. “But how can I say no to that when you ask so nicely?”

Without further ado, Taehyung aligned his bare length with your soaked entrance, slightly teasing you by coating his tip with your juices.

“Just put it in!” You whined, trying to guide his cock into your pussy, only to receive a harsh slap on your thigh.

“You’re in no position to tell me what to do, princess.” Kim retrieved slightly, clasping your neck with one of his big hands. “That attitude might have worked with the dumb guys you’ve fucked before, but I’m not like them. If you want something you better start acting right, otherwise you’ll get nothing.” His hot breath was falling against your face due to how close he was. “Am I clear?” You nodded dumbly, but that wasn’t enough for him. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes, you’re very clear.”

“Now, that’s a good girl.”

Taehyung didn’t wait for you to realize what was happening, before he slowly pushed his cock right into your drenched cunt, enjoying the warm feeling.

“Shit, you’re so tight, doll.” The man noted, already entranced by the way your walls were sucking him in. “You might not be able to take it all.”

A cry escaped from your mouth in a clear protest at what he was saying. You knew your body and your limits, and as big as Taehyung was —more than what you imagined, actually—, you were sure that you were able to take all of him. There was no need for going slow or being cautious with you, in fact, it was pointless to do so with the way you were desperately trying to get him closer to you.

“I will.” You assured him. “Don’t hold back, I can take it, I swear.” With a teasing smile you continued. “Weren’t you going to show me how a real man fucks?”

Hearing his own words coming from your mouth was like an awakening moment; you could see the switch in his demeanor, how his eyes darkened and his grip grew tighter around your waist.

“You better not be lying, doll.”

In a split of a second, Taehyung pulled out of your warm walls to flip you over and make you lay on your stomach.

“Ass up.” He ordered with a serious tone.

Kim didn’t waste a second longer before he reinserted himself inside your pussy. That magical feeling of your velvety walls wrapped around his cock was one he would never forget. The way you were, in fact, taking all of him so effortlessly was driving him crazy.

“Oh my fucking god.” You moaned, due to not only the change in position but also speed.

“This what you wanted, love? Me fucking you dumb, until your legs are shaking and the only thing on your mind is my damn name.” Taehyung was an experienced man, and along with experience came the knowledge of saying the right things to rile you up.

Even more than he already has.

“Yes, fuck. I want nothing more!”

Taehyung increased the pace of his thrusts, making you feel him ridiculously deep by the way he was pounding into you.

“Shit, just like that, don’t stop.” You cried out, fisting the sheets to ground yourself.

To your surprise, the response you got to your previous sentence was nothing more than a slap to your ass cheek, making you groan and jolt in your place.

“What was that for?”

“I already told you, darling.” He panted. “You’re no one to give me orders.”

His veiny hands were holding your hips furiously, digging his fingers in your soft flesh, and you knew for sure that there were going to be some marks showing in the morning. However, you couldn’t care any less at the moment, your only concern was getting that sweet release that was slowly approaching. By the way his cock was reaching all the right places, you knew that it wouldn’t take that long to finally get it, but you needed a bit more, just a little push.

One of your own hands drifted down to messily rub your clit in a rapid motion. Moans and whines were falling from your lips, muffled by the soft pillow. You could feel it, that sweet feeling of unraveling; an electrifying sensation running through your body to let you know your orgasm was approaching. Fingers were moving with haste, urgently touching your clit.

A deep chuckle echoed through the room, and before you could even react a much bigger hand grabbed your wrist and rudely pushed it away from your folds.

“You dumb little brat,” Taehyung sneered. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” His hand slapped your clit a few times, stealing whines from your mouth. “It is clear for me that I need to teach you some manners.”

The tall man lowered himself enough for you to feel his hot chest covering your bare back; dangerous lips brushing the shell of your ear while his muscular arm made its way up to wrap itself loosely around your neck. “Come on, ask for it. Nicely.”

You just wanted to scream; the way he was fucking you, along with his words, was driving you crazy. Not only was it the fact that his cock was repeatedly hitting that sweet spot of yours due to the way Taehyung was still ramming into you, but also his husky voice was making wonders to you. The man as a whole was so intoxicating; corrupting your mind with his indecent behavior and lewd touching. But far from wanting to get out of his spell, you leaned into his warm chest, saying his name like a sinful prayer.

“Taehyung… I wa-want you to touch me… please.”

“Touching you is all I’ve been doing since I saw you in that tight dress, sweetheart.” He stated. “Isn’t this enough?”

His free hand was hovering over your swollen clit, which was almost crying for his fingers to run wild over it. So close yet so far from what you needed.

“No…” You sighed; arms giving up and legs starting to shake, a matter of time before you would have to desperately beg for your release.

“Tsk, so greedy.”

Taehyung wanted to prolong your suffering by running his fingers close enough to your clit, but he reckoned this encounter had been going on for longer than the time he had to spare. And so, instead of being the asshole who would laugh at your desperation, he busied his hand nested in between your thighs, rubbing circles on your clit with his skilled fingers; it was clear as day that the extra touching was making you sensitive, and he loved to have such an effect on you.

“Is this what you wanted?” He teased you, sporting a bright and mocking smile on his face that you, unfortunately, couldn’t see. “Being touched like this really turns you on, huh? You get satisfied with so little, so used to being barely taken care of to be ambitious and ask for something else than the bare minimum.”

If you weren’t sure that Kim Taehyung wasn’t like any other guy you have met before, the way he talked to you really cemented the idea. No man, or boy for that matter, has ever spoken to you in the way Taehyung did. Haughty, arrogant, conceited, those were just a few of the words you could use to describe the brown-eyed man at that precise moment. Acting so sure of himself and the pleasure he could —already did— provide you with. His words were a clear example of how full of himself Taehyung really was. Surprisingly enough, that was exactly what lured you into begging him to give you more.

An ego boost, if you will, but it would assure you a mind blowing orgasm if you kept acting like that.

“Oh fuck, I’m so close.” You moaned. “You’re fucking me so good, sir.”

That word, which was far from being foreign for the tall man, fueled the fire within his body.

You really knew how to play his game.

“Say it again.” Taehyung ordered.

“Sir…” You moaned. “Please let me cum.”

A long overdue plea. Kim acknowledged that your breaking point was near, he could tell by the way you were clenching on his cock, almost making it impossible for him to move

“Fuck.” He panted, tightening the grip on your neck, which was previously loose. “You really wan it, don’t you?”

You nodded vehemently, whining and squirming beneath his body.

“Go on then, make my cock all creamy, princess.”

It was an automatic response to his lewd words. Your body exploded in a plethora of emotions and sensations that it has never experienced before. Toes curling, legs trembling, mouth agape, with moans worthy of being the audio of a porno running free through the room. Your vision became blurry for a moment, head too heavy to keep it up; your face ended up being squished against the soft pillow, while your body tried to recover from such an intense orgasm.

Through the years, you gained a fair amount of knowledge about what your body liked when it came to sex, but the things Taehyung did and said to you opened your eyes to a new side of yourself that was unfairly hidden, due to the poor performance of your previous sexual partners. But as amazing as it was, there was a pinch of fear invading your mind and heart for the same reason. No one has been able to give you what Taehyung did, and there was a very high chance that you would never be in the same situation as you were right now; how will you survive in a world where Kim Taehyung wasn’t the man making you see stars with a single touch?

“Are you okay, princess?” His husky voice invaded your ears like a sweet melody. “Hey, look at me, pretty, come back to me… there you are.”

A ghost of a smile, a genuine one, was adorning his face, making you feel uneasy.

How can a man like him be real? Where has he been all my life?

“I hope you’re not tired yet, because we’re not done here.” His small smile turned into a full smirk.

You were worried about the days to come, when your only comfort would be replaying this night over and over again in your head, but maybe, just maybe, you didn’t need to think about that for now.

“You’re mine for the rest of the night, doll.”

Taglist 🏷️: @aphrwodite @r1r111 @cholychi @artificialsuicid @vsr4197

[j23r23]

Getaway Heart

Tangerine x Reader - angst & fluff

Warnings: blood & vomit

You’ve been a getaway driver since you got your license at 18, maneuvering through the streets with audacity and precision that caught the eye of all the right, and wrong, people. For the past ten years, you worked alone in the shadows, carving out a reputation as the go-to driver for high-stake jobs.

On a rainy evening, the twins handler, a no-nonsense woman with a penchant for dark sunglasses and cryptic instructions, invited you to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Madrid. The place smelled of oil and rubber. There she introduced you to the two men known only by their code names: Tangerine and Lemon. They were looking for a reliable driver, and their handler thought you fit the bill. You knew the Fruits were renowned in the industry for being very good at what they do but were slightly unhinged.

Tangerine was the first to step forward. He was tall and lean, with a sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes that seemed to dissect you with a single glance. Dressed in an impeccably tailored suit that contrasted starkly with the grime of the warehouse, he exuded an air of sophistication and control. His voice was smooth, almost velvety, “So, you’re the driver everyone’s talking about,” he said, his tone carrying a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

Lemon, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Shorter and more muscular, he had a rugged look about him, with bleached hair and an unpredictable glare. His attire was casual— black jeans and a denim jacket—giving off a more approachable vibe. In his hand, he toyed with a small sticker book, flicking it absentmindedly as he watched you.

The initial meeting didn’t go smoothly. Tangerine’s aloof demeanor and Lemon’s staring put you on edge. Tangerine scrutinized your every word and movement, as if searching for a weakness, while Lemon tested your patience with his relentless talk about trains.

“Look, love” Tangerine finally said, crossing his arms, “we don’t have time for screw-ups. We need someone who can handle the heat and think on their feet. Can you do that?”

You met his gaze, your jaw set in determination. “I’ve been doing this long enough to know that hesitation can get you killed. I can handle the heat. Question is, can you keep up? Oh, and the names Orange, love.”

There was a moment of silence before Lemon burst into laughter. “I like this one,” he said, clapping Tangerine on the shoulder. “Got some fire in her.”

Tangerine’s lips curled into a faint smile, the first sign of approval. “Alright Orange,” he said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The memory made you grin.

Right after meeting the twins you had your first job together and it was utter chaos—shit hit the fan, sirens blaring, guns a blazing and the scent of burnt rubber hanging heavy in the air. You were behind the wheel, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you navigated the streets of Madrid with precision.

"Tangerine, we've got company!" Lemon's tone was annoyed.

Tangerine, cool and collected, leaned out of the window, firing off shots with deadly accuracy. "I can see that, Lemon! Im not blind!"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, as the banter between the twins was getting on your nerves. "Would you two save the chatter for later? I'm trying to concentrate here!"

Lemon laughed. "Relax, Orange, we've got this under control."

You just sighed in annoyance and literally put your foot down, pushing the pedal to the metal.

Tangerine, sitting in the seat behind you, clung to the door handle, as hes being pushed back by the force of the speeding car. "Bloody hell, Orange? " he shouted, his voice a mix of panic and irritation.

Lemon, in the backseat, looked even worse. His face was pale, and he was gripping the headrest in front of him for dear life. "For the love of all that's holy, slow down!”

You smirked, your eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror. "Relax, boys. Let me do my job and i let you do yours" you said, narrowly missing a pedestrian who decided now was the perfect time to jaywalk.

"Relax? Relax?!" Tangerine's voice went up an octave. "We’ve got the entire Mafia of Madrid after us, how in hell am i supposed to work when you’re driving like a maniac!"

You took a sharp turn, the tires screeching in protest. The car tilted dangerously, but you managed to keep it from flipping. Lemon made a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a growl. "If we die, I’m haunting your ass!"

"Hold on to something!" you yelled, spotting a narrow alleyway ahead. Without hesitation, you swerved into it, the car barely fitting between the buildings. The side mirrors scraped against the brick walls, sending sparks flying.

Tangerine’s knuckles were white from gripping the door handle. "Jesus Christ, woman!"

You chuckled, adrenaline pumping through your veins. "I got hired for my driving skills, remember?"

Lemon let out a strangled laugh. "Skills? More like suicidal tendencies!"

As you burst out of the alley and back onto a busy street, a car tried to cut you off. With a quick flick of the wheel, you sideswiped it, sending it crashing into a parked truck. "One down, a few dozen to go," you quipped, glancing at your handiwork in the mirror.

"Just keep us in one piece!" Tangerine barked, looking both impressed and terrified.

You sped towards an upcoming construction site, an idea forming in your mind. "Hold tight," you warned, accelerating even more.

"Oh hell no!" Lemon groaned, clearly dreading your next move.

You aimed for a ramp leading up to a half-built overpass. As the car launched into the air, all three of you screamed—though in your case, it was more of a whoop of excitement. The car soared over the gap, landing with a bone-jarring thud on the other side. The cars that are chasing you weren’t so lucky; the first few smashed into the gap, creating a massive pileup.

Tangerine looked at you with wide eyes, his breath coming in short gasps. "You’re absolutely mad, you know that?"

Lemon, still clutching the headrest, nodded fervently. "Completely off your rocker."

You gave them a cheeky grin. "But i got rid of them, no?"

As the car sped away from the chaos behind, Tangerines eyes still held a hint of disbelief. "You’re a bloody lunatic!"

Lemon slumped back in his seat, finally letting go of the headrest. "Next time, I’m driving."

You laughed, the thrill of the chase still coursing through you. "Sure."

After a few more sharp turns you finally pull into a secluded garage. You killed the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening after the chaos.

"You two okay back there?" you had asked, trying to suppress a smirk.

Lemon had groaned, his face pale as a sheet. "I think I'm gonna be sick, now that we stopped," he had mumbled, clutching his stomach.

Tangerine had shot him a glare before leaning out of the window, retching onto the pavement. "Yeah, and somehow we made it out alive!” he had grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You turn in your seat looking at the boys smiling. Tangerine shook his head, laughing despite himself. “But remind me never to question your driving skills again.”

“Deal” you replied with a grin.

After that night, the three of you went through countless jobs together, facing danger with unwavering trust in one another. As time passed, your feelings toward Tangerine began to change. Working alongside him, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the way your heart fluttered whenever he flashed a rare smile or the way your pulse quickened at his touch.

The more jobs you pulled, the deeper your affection for him grew, and the harder it became to suppress your emotions.

And now, something feels off. As you sit in the driver's seat of your idling car, the engine's purr does little to calm your anxious nerves. The night is heavy with tension, the rearview mirror becoming your only solace. You glance back repeatedly, your mind racing through every possible outcome of tonight's job.

Tonight's mission was supposed to be a straightforward smash and grab. The target: a high-end jewelry store fronting as a money laundering operation for one of the city's major crime syndicates in London. Intelligence indicated minimal security—just a couple of guards, easily neutralized. Tangerine and Lemon were tasked with infiltrating, grabbing the goods, and getting out before anyone noticed. Simple, clean, efficient.

You were parked in the back alley of the building, engine running, ready for the signal. The minutes stretched on, each one feeling like an hour. Something gnawed at your gut, a premonition that things weren't going according to plan. You'd run through every escape route, every contingency, but no amount of planning could shake the unease that had settled over you.

The longer you waited, the more your thoughts drifted back to Tangerine. His smile, his confidence, the way he always seemed to know what to say to calm you down. You remember the first time he took a bullet for you. He had laughed it off, calling you a softie for worrying. That was Tangerine—fearless, almost reckless, but with a heart that beat fiercely for those he cared about.

You trusted them both with your life, but tonight, that trust felt more like a lifeline, taut and fraying with each passing second.

The rearview mirror offers no new insights, just the darkened street and the distant sounds of the city. You grip the steering wheel tighter. You can almost hear Tangerine’s voice, telling you to stay calm, to trust the plan. But the plan is starting to feel like a distant memory, overshadowed by a growing fear that this time, things won’t go as smoothly as they always have.

And then, like a thunderclap, the back door of the building bursts open.

Suddenly, Lemon charges through the back door of the building, supporting a hunched over Tangerine. It's clear that this simple job has gone terribly wrong. As they stagger closer, you see the blood—Tangerine is losing a lot of it. You reverse the car and drive towards them. Lemon yanks open the back door, practically shoving Tangerine inside before he climbs in himself.

"Go, go, go!" Lemon shouts, urgency in his voice.

You change immediately into first and slam the gas pedal to the floor, the tires screeching as the car lurches forward. The doors are barely closed, but you don’t have time to worry about that. In the rearview mirror, you see Lemon struggling to put pressure on one of Tangerines wounds, while the latter squirms in pain.

"What the fuck happened?" you demand, weaving through traffic with precision.

"Tangerine underestimated the Job, didn't wear his west and got shot," Lemon replies, his voice strained. Tangerine just groans, clearly in too much pain to speak.

"You didn't wear your fucking west?" you scoff, your hands gripping the wheel tightly. "You always chastise us when we're not wearing one, what the fuck were you thinking!"

"Yeah, well," Tangerine mutters in pain, "we all make mistakes."

You maneuver through the city's maze-like streets, dodging late-night traffic and running red lights. The city's neon lights cast eerie reflections inside the car, illuminating the tense scene. The smell of blood fills the air, and you can hear Tangerine's labored breathing from the back seat.

"You better not die on me, Tangerine," you say, your voice tight with a mixture of fear and anger. "I’m not dealing with your expensive funeral."

Tangerine tries to laugh, but it turns into a pained groan. "Always… so considerate," he manages to say between gasps.

"Save your strength, mate," Lemon says, pressing another wad of cloth against Tangerine's bleeding abdomen. "We need you to stay awake."

The car roars down a narrow alleyway, the tires barely gripping the slick pavement as you take a sharp turn. You can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. Every second counts, and the safehouse feels a million miles away.

"I swear, if we make it out of this alive, you're going to owe me one pristine car cleaning," you assert firmly, your voice tinged with worry.

"Deal," Tangerine replies, his eyes closing. Lemon looks at you through the rearview mirror "Just get us there in one piece."

You weave through the final stretch of city streets, your knuckles white on the steering wheel. The safehouse looms ahead, a nondescript building that has become your haven in times of crisis. You screech to a halt after driving into the garage, the car barely stopping before you pull the handbrake.

"Help me get him inside," Lemon says, rushing out and opening the back door. Together, you and Lemon half-carry, half-drag Tangerine towards the entrance, his blood leaving a grim trail behind you.

"Hang on, Tan," you whisper, your voice breaking despite your best efforts to stay calm. "We're almost there."

Inside the safehouse, the familiar surroundings offer little comfort. You clear the kitchen table with a sweep of your arm, sending everything crashing to the floor.

"Lay him down here," you instruct. "I need to see how bad it is."

Tangerine's eyes flutter open, and he looks up at you with a weak smile. "You always did know how to make things dramatic, love" he jokes, his voice barely a whisper.

"Shut up," you say, your throat tight. "Just let me fix you up."

As you rip open his shirt, revealing the extent of his injuries, the reality of the situation hits you like a punch to the gut. Four bullet wounds, two in his left shoulder one in his right arm and the worst is stuck in the right side of his abdomen.

This isn't just another job gone wrong. This is a fight for survival. And in this moment, all you can think about is keeping Tangerine alive.

"You ruined my Burberry suit," Tangerine complains weakly, attempting a half-hearted smirk.

"I said, shut up," you snap, your voice tight with worry. Your hands move quickly, working to stop the bleeding. Tears blur your vision, but you force yourself to focus, ignoring the emotional storm brewing inside you.

Lemon stands by, trying to keep pressure on the wounds. He looks at you, concern etched on his face. "You alright?" he asks, noticing your tears.

You nod, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on your shoulders. Each bullet you extract from Tangerine's flesh elicits an excruciating scream from him that reverberates through the room and it slices through you like a knife. But you steel yourself against the anguish, focusing solely on the task at hand. With each bullet removed, Tangerine's body relaxes a fraction, but his agony remains palpable.

Exhaustion settles over him like a heavy shroud, and he slumps back, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. You work quickly, stitching him up as best you can with trembling hands, the urgency of the situation lending you a sense of clarity.

Once Tangerine is bandaged and relatively stable, you turn your attention to the smaller cuts and abrasions littering his body. With gentle care, you clean away the blood, your movements deliberate and precise as you tend to his wounds.

When you finally finish, you look to Lemon, concern etched into your features. "You got any injuries?" you ask, your voice laced with worry.

He shakes his head, his gaze unwavering as he grabs a blanket and pillow, arranging them to make Tangerine's makeshift bed on the kitchen table a little more comfortable.

You look at your blood covered hands and your mind starts to race,

The reality of the situation sinking in. Despite your years of experience you can't shake the feeling of helplessness that washes over you. You've faced danger countless times before, but this time feels different.

As you turn to wash the blood away in the sink, Lemon appears at your side. His eyes hold a depth of understanding that cuts through the turmoil in your soul.

"Not exactly the night we planned, huh?" Lemon tries to joke, but his voice wavers.

"Yeah…" you reply, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

"You love him, don't you?" Lemon's voice breaks the silence, gentle but insistent.

You pause, the question hanging in the air. Tears spill over, and you nod, holding in a sob. "Yes," you whisper, your voice cracking. "I do."

Wordlessly, he reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. His touch is grounding.

With a steadying breath, you push aside the tumult of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

You look back at your shaking hands seeing the sink run red as you rinse the rest of Tans blood away, the water swirling slowly like the tension in your chest. The room feels both too small and too vast, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

Lemon's eyes soften with understanding. "Does he know?" he asks gently.

You shake your head, tears now flowing freely. "No," you manage to choke out.

Lemon gives you a sad smile and pats your back. "It's gonna be okay. He's tough. He'll pull through. He's Tangerine, after all."

You look over at Tangerine, his face pale and his breathing shallow. The sight of him like this, so vulnerable, breaks something inside you. You sink to your knees beside the table, clutching his hand in yours, your tears falling onto his bloodstained shirt.

"I should have told him, “ You whisper, your voice breaking. "I should have told him every day."

Lemon kneels beside you, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "He knows," he says softly. "Somehow, he knows. And he’s fighting.”

The room is silent except for the faint, labored breathing of Tangerine. You press your forehead to Tangerine's hand, your sobs shaking your entire body.

"Please, don't leave me," you whisper, your voice raw with pain. "I can't do this without you."

"He's going to make it," Lemon murmurs, more to himself than to you. "He has to."

You cling to those words, praying that they're true. Because the thought of a world without Tangerine is too much to bear.

When the morning sun shines through the kitchen window, you stir, the warm light nudging you awake. You jolt up, immediately checking on Tangerine and finding him still breathing, albeit slowly. His chest rises and falls steadily, and a wave of relief washes over you.

Your body aches from the uncomfortable sleeping position, but you ignore it, stretching briefly before moving around the kitchen to make some coffee, the familiar routine grounding you.

Suddenly, you hear a faint sound. Turning around, you see Tangerine, though barely conscious, calling out for you, reaching out weakly.

"Hey, " he murmurs, his eyes fluttering closed but a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You rush to his side, your heart heavy yet light with relief. “don't go too far" he whispers, his hand finding yours.

"Lemon!" you call out, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions. "Lemon, get in here!"

Lemon appears in the doorway, eyes widening as he takes in the scene. "What's going on? Is he—?"

"He's awake," you say, unable to contain the sob that escapes your lips. "He's going to be okay."

Lemon's face softens with a mixture of relief and joy. He steps forward, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I told you he's tough," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "Tan doesn't go down that easily."

You nod, unable to speak, the relief washing over you in waves. You stay by Tangerines side, his hand still clasped in yours, feeling the weight of the nights fear and uncertainty lift just a little.

Lemon places a gentle hand on your back, his voice soft but firm. "You need to rest. Take a shower, change into some fresh clothes. I'll keep an eye on him."

You hesitate, glancing back at Tangerine "Are you sure?" you ask, your voice wavering with concern.

"I'm sure," Lemon reassures you, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You look like shit."

"Thanks, Lem." you shake your head at his compliment and make your way to the bathroom. The hot water cascading over you feels like a much-needed cleanse, washing away the grime and the fear of the night. You change into fresh clothes, feeling a bit more human, and take a moment to steady yourself before heading back to the kitchen.

When you return, you see Lemon leaning close to Tangerine, their voices low as Tangerine attempts to sit up, wincing with every movement. Lemon supports him, and you quickly move to their side, slipping an arm around Tangerine to help. Together, you guide him into one of the bedrooms, easing him onto the bed so he can rest more comfortably.

"Thanks," Tangerine murmurs, his face still pale but his eyes more focused.

"You need to rest," you say, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. "We'll be right outside." As you and Lemon turn to leave, Tangerine's voice stops you.

"Wait." His hand reaches out, grabbing yours weakly. You look at Lemon, who gives you a knowing nod.

"I'll give you two some privacy," he says softly. "Call if you need anything." You nod at Lemon before turning back to Tangerine.

"You scared the living daylight out of me last night," you admit, your voice trembling slightly as you sit on the edge of the bed, Tangerine's hand still clasped in yours.

"I didn't mean to," he replies, a weak smile playing on his lips. "But I guess I did give that Burberry suit a run for its money."

You manage a small laugh, tears of relief filling your eyes. "I guess I owe you a new shirt," you say, your voice breaking with emotion as you remember ripping it off him to stop the bleeding.

"And i owe you a pristine car cleaning," he replies, squeezing your hand tightly, his smile widening.

Your laughter fades and you sit in silence for a moment, gathering your courage. You know that now is the time to speak your heart. “Tan I—” you begin, but Tangerine interrupts, his expression soft.

"Thank you." He looks down for a second, watching his hand play with yours. “Sorry, you were saying,” he looks back up into your eyes.

You blink in confusion, feeling your cheeks flush. "Oh, erm… you don’t have to thank me. It’s... it’s part of the job." you mumble.

Tangerine’s grip on your hand tightens, his eyes never leaving yours. "It’s more than just a job to you, isn’t it?"

You swallow hard, the truth pressing against your lips. "Yes," you whisper, barely able to hold back the tears. "It’s more. So much more."

He nods, a bittersweet smile on his face. "Lemon might have hinted at it before, but I’ve suspected for a while."

A mixture of relief and embaressement washes over you. "Lemon and his big mouth," you mutter, a weak laugh escaping your lips.

Tangerine chuckles, but winces in pain. You scold him lightly. "Don’t laugh, you idiot. You need to rest."

He grins despite the pain, bringing his hand to your cheek. "Will you stay?"

You lean into his hand, feeling his touch. "I'll stay." you whisper, tears falling freely now.

Tangerine’s eyes soften, and he reaches out to brush a tear from your cheek. "I’ve been feeling the same way you know. For a while actually."

Your heart races, and you struggle to find your voice. "What?" Tangerine’s eyes flick between your eyes and your lips before he closes the gap, kissing you softly. The kiss is tender, filled with all the unspoken emotions you’ve both been holding back.

Its a clusterfuck, but someone might like it...

[teal-fiend]

A tiny who just wants to explore comes across a giant in a state.

content: g/t vore, multiple prey, implied fatal, unwilling prey, digestion, observer pov

–

You slip quietly into the room, your tiny footsteps barely making a sound on the cold, cemented floor. An abandoned warehouse. Or perhaps, to the giants, it was just a storage room. 

Either way, you liked to wander and sneak around places where you probably shouldn’t go. It was part of your borrower instincts, you’d say. Urban exploration is a fairly normal hobby anyway, for both giants and tinies. The point is, you weren’t looking for trouble. 

At first, everything looks normal for a condemned building—echo-y, dim, neglected, just the kind of place you’d been looking for.

But you have the sense that something isn’t right. A gut feeling—you can’t place it. You turn a corner and freeze.

A giant.

Your breath catches in your throat. The figure sprawled across the floor is immense, larger than any living being you’ve ever seen. From your minuscule perspective, the sheer scale of them is disorienting—no animal should be this large—it was like seeing a dinosaur; it should be extinct. It shouldn’t exist. But what really grabs your attention is their stomach.

It’s colossal.

You stare in shock at the massive, swollen curve of their belly, rising up like a hill in the center of the room. You’ve seen giants from afar, but never like this. Not up close, and not... like this.

The stomach is enormous—so much bigger than you, bigger than your car, even bigger than a house. It’s distended, rounded out in a tight, unnatural way that makes you start to realise something is wrong here. Are they sick?

The giant is passed out, their face relaxed in sleep, but their body tells a different story. Their stomach is so grotesquely distended, so unnaturally large, it looks painful.

And the sounds—oh god, the sounds. Despite any survival instinct you have, you inch closer, carefully stepping around their outstretched arm, your eyes fixated on their swollen midsection.

Deep, heavy gurgles reverberate from their gut, like the low rumbling of an earthquake, vibrating through the concrete beneath your feet. It’s so loud, so visceral, like standing next to an industrial machine. The noises make your skin crawl. Listen, as if in a horrible trance, to the groaning and churning of their stomach, struggling with whatever is inside.

And then, faintly, you catch something else.

Voices.

Your blood runs cold. Faint, muffled cries, barely audible beneath the thick layers of skin and muscle, but unmistakable. You edge closer, your eyes locked on the giant’s stomach, unable to look away. The voices are weak, but they’re there. It sets in with a sickening dread. There are people in there.

You take a step back, heart pounding in your chest as you realise what you’re hearing. The giant had eaten them—swallowed them whole, by the sound of it. You glance around the room; it’s still a nondescript warehouse interior. But you theorise the giant chose somewhere unassuming to hide while they...

Your stomach twists as you look back at the giant, their massive belly stretching up above you like a grotesque monument. You can’t help but imagine what it must be like inside, trapped in the tight, churning darkness of that giant’s gut, squeezed into the hot, suffocating space, with no way out. 

You can’t believe what you’re seeing—what kind of person would do this?

The giant shifts slightly in their sleep, letting out a long, low groan. You flinch, stepping back, but they don’t wake. Their face is slightly vexed; it seems like a fitful sleep; this might have been too much, even for them. 

But then, as you watch, their lips part, and a deep, thundering belch rolls out of their mouth. Their expression relaxes; it becomes peaceful even. They continue to lie there, completely unaware of the horror inside them. 

The noise is deafening, shaking the air around you. You cover your ears, the sound reverberating in your chest like a subwoofer, a reminder of just how enormous this body is compared to yours. The belch is loud and lazy, almost careless, like the giant’s body is simply responding to the meal. Their stomach seems to stir, and the deep gurgles return, louder this time, more ominous.

You take a shaky breath, your eyes locked on that unnaturally large belly. The skin is stretched so tight it shines under the dim natural light, and you can see the faintest bit of movement beneath the surface—small bumps, appearing here and there.

Your mind reels, trying to comprehend the scale of it all. The stomach is so large, so engorged, and those voices... There must be at least a dozen, maybe more, trapped inside. You can hear them still, faint and muffled, like they’re buried deep under layers of sound. How many people had the giant swallowed? And how did they catch them? 

You inch closer, trembling with fear and disbelief. From down here, the giant is like a living landscape, their body so vast it’s hard to take it all in. Their belly rises far above your head, towering over you like some grotesque monument. You reach out, not thinking, and place a hand against the tightly stretched skin. 

It’s hot, like an overheated computer, and you can even feel a constant whirring. You can feel deeper and stronger vibrations, which coincide with the audible gurgling.

The sheer size of it makes you feel so small, so utterly insignificant. And inside that massive gut are people—people like you. Only what, a metre or so from where your hand is placed. 

The giant lets out another soft groan in their sleep, and you jump, quickly stepping back again. Their body is so loud—every churn from the overstuffed organ is amplified to an almost unbearable degree. 

Your thoughts race, panic rising in your chest. You have to get out of here. This giant is dangerous—a predator unlike anything you’ve ever imagined. The predator is asleep now, but what happens when they wake up? 

You get the feeling that they wouldn’t still feel hungry...

But the fact that you’ve seen this means that you are a liability. You may be the only surviving witness to a terrifying crime. 

You glance back at the direction from which you came. Your heart thuds in your chest. You can still hear the voices—desperate sounds of those trapped inside the giant’s stomach. But there’s nothing you can do for them. You’re too small, too helpless. You can do more for them by escaping and letting the world know what happened. 

The giant stirs again, grumbling in their sleep, their bloated belly gurgling loudly, and you are once again frozen in place. You pray they don’t awaken. 

Another belch escapes their lips, still so resonant. You have to get out of here.

You take one last look at the monstrous sight in front of you—the giant, passed out on the floor, their stomach swollen beyond belief—and then you turn and run.

[wonderlanddreamer]

Chapter 1: Florence Fletcher's debut article on the Peaky Blinders hits the stands, catching the attention of the powerful John Shelby. With ruthless determination, he vows to make sure her first scoop is also her last.

Masterlist here.

Underworld Unveiled: The Rise and Ruthlessness of the Peaky Blinders

By Florence Fletcher - Birmingham Gazette

Beneath Birmingham's industrial and cultural vibrancy lies the dark world of the Peaky Blinders, a gang notorious for their violent and cunning ways. Led by Thomas Shelby, they have built a criminal empire post-World War I, engaging in illegal betting, smuggling, and extortion. Their name, derived from razor blades in their caps, symbolizes their readiness for violence.

"They control everything," said an anonymous source. "From racetracks to pubs, they crush any opposition."

The Peaky Blinders have violently clashed with rival gangs and intimidated businesses, making it tough for law enforcement to act.

"The police are either scared or corrupt," the source added, highlighting the gang's unchecked power.

Despite their criminality, Thomas Shelby's charisma and strategic mind have given the gang a veneer of allure, extending their influence into business and politics. "He's a businessman and strategist," noted another insider, underscoring Shelby's multifaceted control.

The Peaky Blinders' dominance threatens Birmingham's stability, creating fear and undermining the rule of law. "The public deserves to know the truth," urged the source, calling for greater exposure of the gang's activities.

The Birmingham Gazette pledges to continue investigating and exposing the Peaky Blinders, aiming to hold them accountable and safeguard the city's future.

Florence Fletcher

Investigative Journalist, Birmingham Gazette

-

The night was heavy with the scent of damp cobblestones and distant smoke as Florence Fletcher stepped out of her office. The dim light from a flickering streetlamp cast eerie shadows on the alleyway, making the darkness seem alive. Florence, an investigative journalist known for her fearless tenacity, pulled her coat tighter around her slender frame, her heels clicking purposefully against the cold stone.

She had just locked the door behind her when she felt a presence. A figure emerged from the shadows, his silhouette cutting an imposing figure against the faint light. John Shelby, of the infamous Peaky Blinders, stood before her, his eyes dark and intense.

"Florence Fletcher, isn't it?" His voice was low, and its menacing timbre sent a chill down her spine.

Florence's heart pounded in her chest, but she kept her composure. She had known this confrontation was inevitable after her latest exposé on the Peaky Blinders' criminal activities. She met his gaze, her chin tilted defiantly.

"John Shelby," she replied, her voice steady despite the fear curling in her stomach. "I wondered when you'd show up."

John took a step closer, his face illuminated by the weak light. The hard lines of his jaw and the cold glint in his eyes spoke volumes of his intentions. "You’ve got a lot of nerve, writing that piece. Exposing us like that."

Florence squared her shoulders, refusing to back down. "The public deserves to know the truth. You and your family have terrorised this city for too long."

John's smile was anything but friendly. "Brave words for a woman standing alone in a dark alley." He reached into his coat, and Florence tensed, her breath catching in her throat. He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a deliberate slowness that made her heart race faster.

"You think you can scare me into silence?" she challenged, her voice firmer now. "I've faced worse than you, John Shelby."

He exhaled a cloud of smoke, stepping closer until he was mere inches from her face. "You think you're untouchable, don't you? That your words will protect you?" His voice dropped to a whisper, dripping with venom. "Let me tell you something, Florence. I've made men twice your size beg for mercy. Don't think for a second that I won't do the same to you."

Florence's resolve wavered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. "You can threaten me all you want, but I won't stop until every last one of your crimes is brought to light."

John's expression darkened further, his eyes narrowing. "You really don't get it, do you? This isn't a game. This is life and death. You keep pushing, and you'll find out just how serious I am."

He flicked his cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his boot with a deliberate finality. "Consider this your only warning. Back off, or next time, you won't walk away."

With that, he turned and melted back into the shadows, leaving Florence alone in the alley, her heart still pounding but her resolve stronger than ever. She knew the risks, but she also knew that the truth was worth fighting for—no matter the cost.

[beehiveofblorbos]

Happy birthday Maizono Sayaka!!

I wasn’t prepared (sorry my love 😭) so please have this WIP Sayaka art. it’s not good but it’s what I have for her

This girl is honestly what hooked me into DR. Before there was Kokichi, or Kaede, or Tsumugi, I loved her and Makoto. She is probably my second or third favorite out of DR1. She also kinda hooked me into learning about idols!! She’s one of my favorite characters to analyze; everything about her is short and sweet and COMPLETE. Here is my favorite analysis I’ve done for her:

Early in the killing game, Sayaka Maizono makes a strong showing. She presents a cheerful face, strong people skills, and strong work ethic to everyone. She cooperates with the group, investigating and getting on well with most of the cast. I don’t believe this was a lie. Just the automatic public manner that Sayaka is required to have as the Ultimate Pop Sensation (or the Ultimate Idol). Additionally, Sayaka is the type of person who had a near impossible dream to become the kind of idol who could make people smile (the Japanese idol industry is vicious, something I’ll circle back to). She’s a dreamer and a determinator. Someone with that sort of goal isn’t inherently malicious: just takes opportunities where they come.

I don’t believe Sayaka actually made up her mind to murder until after the motive videos were shown, for reasons I’ll explain later. She was simply accounting for the possibility that she may need to defend herself when she grabbed the golden sword. She was extremely paranoid due to the years she’s spent mired in the idol industry, where no one was to be trusted. Of course she wanted a way to defend herself; it also helped her link up with Makoto, who she had been so excited to see again she remembered him through multiple years of not interacting and a mindwipe.

Once judging that she couldn’t use the sword effectively, she gave it to Makoto. I genuinely believe, for this reason, that she did trust Makoto: why else would she equip him with weaponry he could use to defend himself? Makoto was a known entity, where everyone else is unknown: even outside of a killing game, it’s natural that you become close with those you know. Plus, she clearly had cared about him for a long time. I mean, they’d just had their memories wiped, and before then it had been at least a year since she’d seen him (and years since that encounter that first caught her eye). She wanted him to be safe almost as much as she wanted to secure her own self, and she certainly thought they could help each other by relying on each other. Plus, she looked up to him and the pure kindness he’d displayed that day. I believe that Sayaka wanted to emulate that kindness and become a better person than who she saw herself as.

The Japanese idol industry, again, is absolutely vicious. The horrific things idols force their bodies to push through are unbearable for anyone with a faint heart or weak will. Everyone, even within the group, is constantly competing to stay relevant and keep their career on the ups and ups. Public opinion and interest is often fickle, but it is these people’s livelihoods to do whatever it takes to stay relevant. Sayaka admits something in that regard, saying she had to do horrible things to get where she was. This is the kind of world she THRIVED in, but it doesn’t mean she enjoyed it. That, after all, is why she wanted to reach her hand out to Makoto: because his actions showed that there were people who lived outside that world, and didn’t constantly act with a mask.

Once the motive videos are shown… Sayaka freaks. The motive videos are shown three days into the killing game; this is not a long time, but long enough to light a fire in Sayaka’s mind. After all, the first floor is only so big. After three days of investigating and finding nothing, she may have been slightly desperate already. On top of that, previously she may have thought her group would be doing something to find her. However, after she sees her group in trouble, that means there’s no one left to keep the public attention. No one to continue rising the star of the career that has been Sayaka’s life work. She struggled, she suffered for that career, and her entrapment in the school is taking it away from her right before her eyes. (I also do believe she cared for her idol group and its members as well; their relationships were complicated, but I do think she loved them, though I have no proof to support this).

So what would the Ultimate Idol do? To become the Ultimate Idol, it’s natural to be extremely good with people, physically fit to a not-insignificant degree, sing/dance well, be an expert at manners and how to present yourself, and be willing to do whatever it takes to advance your career. And that’s exactly what Sayaka did: whatever it took. While killing someone is a big step, after the motive videos she may have considered it necessary: just another stepping stone over which her career may shine. If only she could do it.

She had already reached out to Makoto as someone who could protect and defend her throughout the game, someone she knew was naturally kind and went out of his way even to help a hurt swan. It was a simple step to manipulate someone who had a clear crush on her (someone like Kuwata Leon, who notably only uses -chan for Maizono Sayaka. Someone like Kuwata Leon, who wants to get into the music industry and doesn’t think he needs to put in the same sacrifice and work that Sayaka knows so well).

Even so, at the moment of truth, she hesitated before attacking Leon. She was a girl who wanted to put smiles on people’s faces. How had she come to this? Perhaps she thought of her bandmembers. Perhaps she steeled her resolve with all the horrible things she’d done already. Her group was counting on her: she was the only one left! She had to do something! She could NOT die here!!!

And when her attack on Leon failed, she hid herself in the bathroom. The worst, the unacceptable outcome would be to allow herself to die. Then her group truly wouldn’t have any hope. Then her life’s work truly would be dead. Somehow Leon makes it in and corners Sayaka in there. With her lifeblood, she reaches out and attempts to help the living students (Makoto, who had promised to protect her) who will have to discover her body.

Sayaka’s entire character is extremely well demonstrated throughout her actions in chapter 1. She’s clearly fleshed out and her character perfectly befits her talent and expands on it. Her arc is tight and flawless, using even her death to characterise her and give her agency instead of making her a simple victim. She wanted better for herself, but put sacrifice and her dreams first always. She valued her life, and she wanted to escape because her work encompassed her entire life. She wanted to be a better person, and she wavered.

I love her for all of that.

[tryst-art-archive]

March 2010: "Drowning"

This one's going under a cut because it is once again about suicide. Specifically, this is clearly me imagining my own death by suicide. SO, do proceed with caution.

Something I'm learning from my journey through my archives is that I've been much, much, much more depressed than I realized over the past two decades.

Drowning

              She was drowning.

              Bubbles burst forth from her lips in a chaotic swirl, speeding towards the surface as she sank into the lake’s silt. Her body heaved with the effort to breathe, drawing in yet more murky water, suffocating itself in its own effort to survive. A darkness began to pulse at the edges of her vision, progressing and receding like a wave reaching up toward sun bathers on the beach. As the dark tide rose and began to close in, she felt her heart’s beat within her, shaking her every fiber so that she could hear the faint movement of the water in response to her fading pulse. She felt her weakness, felt the fragility of her body and its impermanence. The darkness closed in, and her diaphragm ceased its frantic efforts to feed her lungs. She listened to her pulse fade to nothing and followed it into the abyss.

              It was a closed-casket funeral. They hadn’t, after all, found the  body for several days, and when, finally, they pulled it from the lake, it had become alien, it’s grotesqueries caused less by the bloated deformation and more by the humanness still visible within its bulk.

              The mother cried throughout the ceremony, silently heaving, her face lost in tissue after tissue. The father simply rested his hands on his wife’s shoulders, blinking against the tears that hovered on the brinks of his eyelids. He would not let them fall again.

              Other relatives crowded about, some weeping, some offering sober condolences. A few townspeople had come – an English teacher the dead Girl had abhorred, a policeman She had never really gotten to know, and a host of high school classmates who may have remembered Her name but who certainly never knew anything else about Her. Her friends, old and new, mourned in their own ways. A few came to the funeral, but several wept in the privacy of their homes, too afraid of finality to face the funeral, although the coworkers whose primary connection to Her was the service industry itself had elected to come.

              The ceremony was a proper Roman Catholic ceremony, though the dead Girl had rejected religion some years before her demise, and this failure to observe who She had been rankled Her best friend, who stood, trembling, by the mother. The boyfriend didn’t notice this peculiarity and would, later, disagree with the best friend’s view that a religious funeral was disrespectful to an irreligious corpse. They would fight and, for several days, refuse to speak to one another in spite of sharing an apartment. Eventually, their tears would force them into a camaraderie for the duration of their morning period after which they would return to their eternally uneasy friendship. In their bitterest arguments, they would accuse one another of being the cause of Her death generally via the murderous force of insufficient love.

              In truth, they were each haunted by the possibility that they had contributed to Her death. They could never be certain; She had left no note.

[chocolatepeachsundae]

I'm really shocked at the lack of love on Tumblr for our wonderful Camp Organizer, Chris Hackett.

I don't usually share any of my fanfictions as they're private. (So apologizing ahead of time for any errors in grammar and spelling.)

But I wanted to share this little prequal snippet of a one-shot I did for FemOC X Chris. I'd love any feedback/opinions and if you guys want me to share anymore...🤷🏻‍♀️

Lillian leant her chin on her palm, she watched the quiet waves of snow drift sway rhymeically onto the carpark. The white powder slowly seating itself onto the vegetation, giving the motel a cosy glow from inside.

The mug of English tea she cradled in her hands kept her fingers from the numbing cold. Steam reached up to her nostrils, a distant mumble of radio chatter kept her from sitting in absolute silence. She cherished these winter nights, the cold quietness that took over North kill.

*"A married New York couple who went missing while hiking Silver Point area have been found dead with multiple animal wounds, authorities say. The bodies of Stephen Reid, 67, and Djeswende Reid, 66, were discovered 6 months ago in a wooded ar~TZZK"

Static broke the newscaster off. Raising herself out the chair she walked over to the janky little portable system. It buzzed and groaned as she adjusted the antenna. There was a feeling that everything felt suddenly still, the snow blanketed any noise from the outside and for a moment... She felt herself zone out.

*"TZZK~Office has issued yellow warning of snow, ice and fog up and down Catskills area, which are expected to be ongoing until Thursd-" *

The abruptness caused her to jolt back to reality as her eyes fell onto the the snowy darkness. The glow of the open sign reflected a gentle blue glow across the white. The night sky a thick velvet blanket encompassing the motel. She made her way back to her desk.

*I should just lock up for the night and go upstairs*

As her hand reached down to open the desk draw in front of her, she noticed the light outside flicker, a flurry in the corner of her peripherals. Her head flicked around to catch it, but too slow. Figuring the bulb was nearly out, she ignored the pang of fear shooting up her chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lillian fumbled the keys into the apartment door, kicking the little lip of snow sitting on the metal stairway. Her body shuddered as she fought the creeping brisk air of winter trying to prise its way into the cracks of her scarf. Clouds of hot air billowed over her face, as the key gave way to it's lock mechanism, fluidly swinging the doot open to pull her inside. A clang of metal made her stop one foot in the doorway, she peered down at the large wheelie bins to see if she had been hearing raccoons again.

The industrial gate violently shook, the settled snow tumbling from its precarious perch ontop of the steel rods. Lillian head swiftly turned to face the noise in front of her. Pounding, her heart jumped into her throat as she quietly observed.

Heat rose through Lillian body, her cheeks glowing against the white blanket of snow surrounding her, all she could hear was the panicked thud of her pulse through her chest. Weighing her down into her feet, grounded in fear.

"Li-llian?" a weak trembled voice croaked from beyond the gate. Her eyes widened, she parted her lips to speak but only faint puffs of condensation trailed from her cold lips.

"Lillian... Its Chris... Can.. You let me in?" the figure behind the door shakily exclaimed. Immediately Lillian made her way down the stairs and turned to the gate.

*what is Chris doing out here?*

The gate swung open and Chris looked up at her with a relieved smile,weakly leant against the corner post. His Aviator jacket was half hanging off his left shoulder. There was mud smeared across his shins and knees, jeans slightly torn up showing beads of clotted blood formed in the fabric. Lillian stepped aside to let him in and he made his way up to the unlocked apartment above the tavern...

[supremetheog]

They would hate me in hell wouldn't they

It's why I love to be the troll under the bridge.

I own that exact garter. Nice of them to corroborate my sigil.

Gaggin on these big ass balls of mine.

Lol the entire industry acting like JFK TSA.

Don't you know airplanes needs two wings and twin engines to fly?

Suit yourself. I found alternate transportation.

[starseedfxofficial]

Secrets the Pros Won't Tell You: How to Profit from Post-Election Market Chaos Introduction: The Aftermath Nobody Saw Coming Remember the last time you tried to predict the market, and it turned out to be as unpredictable as your uncle's karaoke performance at the family BBQ? Well, the dust has settled after the US election, and, just like that unexpected rendition of "Bohemian Rhapsody," the markets have delivered a few surprises of their own. APAC stocks this week are telling a story that is more Shakespearean comedy than market textbook. But worry not, my friends, because we've got insider tips, hidden gems, and a whole lot of humor to make sense of it all. Let’s break down what happened in the world of Asian stocks, and more importantly, let’s talk about what the pros aren’t telling you—the kind of juicy stuff that doesn’t make it to CNBC. It’s a story filled with real estate let-downs, financial sector heroes, and a sprinkle of confusion, but we’re going to walk away with some game-changing ideas. Because that’s what we do—turn market messes into golden opportunities. 1. The 'Trump Trade' Tango and the Lost Momentum The 'Trump trade' hype was like that guy at the party who promises to bring the most fire playlist but ends up stuck playing Mariah Carey’s greatest hits on repeat. US equity futures rode high on the coattails of the election, but as the dust settled, the hype waned, and participants found themselves bracing for something entirely different—a wave of fresh US tariffs. But here's where the real pros made moves that the mainstream won't highlight. Unlocking Secrets the Pros Won't Tell You: Rather than getting caught in the post-election euphoria, smart money already began hedging. Ninja tactic alert: This is where traders used options to capitalize on any volatility dips while keeping risk low. Pro tip—volatility isn’t something to fear; it’s something to dance with if you know the right rhythm. A little-known secret is that periods like these are perfect for executing strangle strategies (you heard it here, and no, it's not a wrestling move). 2. Australia, Energy, and the Confused Real Estate Sector The ASX 200 had everyone biting their nails. It was like trying to figure out if your blind date was into you—signals all over the place. It finished positive, but only after energy, tech, industrials, and financials decided to step in like an overprotective friend on your said date. Weak Aussie trade data put a ceiling on things, though. The lesson here? When the market feels indecisive, it’s time to take a contrarian stance. How I Turned the Tables on Market Trends: What if I told you that while most traders were sweating about real estate weakness, a small group of insiders were quietly loading up on undervalued industrial stocks? Industrial plays often shine when real estate starts to look shaky, and it’s all about spotting that sector rotation. Here’s a ninja tactic: Cross-check real estate data with energy sector growth. When you see real estate struggle and energy rally, it’s often a hint that industrials are due for a boost—underground trend no one’s shouting about just yet. 3. Japan’s Roller Coaster and Currency Capers Nikkei 225 came out the gate like a kid on Christmas morning thanks to a weakened yen—which makes exports jingle with cash. But just as quickly, it ran out of steam. It’s like buying an all-day amusement park pass but getting stuck in line all afternoon. The short-lived surge teaches an important lesson—one often ignored by casual traders. The Hidden Formula Only Experts Use: The weaker yen play was an obvious one—everyone knew it. But what the experts did was quietly short the strength, anticipating the inevitable correction when market exuberance faded. Lesson for the day: When there’s a hype-fueled move, the best move often comes after the initial surge. Short-term contrarian plays aren’t for the faint-hearted, but those who jumped in and shorted after the initial climb pocketed a handsome return. That’s the hidden opportunity that remains cloaked behind mainstream media narratives. 4. China, Trade Surplus, and PBoC Shenanigans Hang Seng and Shanghai Composite behaved like the markets had an invisibility cloak shielding them from any news of US tariffs. Why? Because fiscal stimulus is like sugar on a bad day—it makes everything a bit more tolerable. China’s trade data came in with double-digit growth in exports, and the PBoC, in a surprising twist, told banks to cut interbank deposit rates. If you’re wondering why they’re slashing rates—it’s all about growth, baby! Underground Trends: Follow the Stimulus Train The PBoC is signaling growth, which means liquidity is coming, and that liquidity needs a home. Here’s the game-changer—jump into the stocks that benefit directly from increased bank lending and liquidity. That’s where insiders place their chips when rates start to fall. Bonus ninja tip: When central banks say “accommodative monetary policy,” you should hear “go long on consumer discretionary”—it’s one of the first to feel the extra cash flow. 5. European Equities Playing Hard to Get Meanwhile, over in Europe, Euro Stoxx 50 futures suggest a firmer open, but it’s like when you try to compliment someone, and they just kind of nod—there’s interest, but they’re playing hard to get. The Euro Stoxx future ticked up by 0.3%, which looks promising, but hey, yesterday they closed down 1.4%, so let’s not get too cozy just yet. How to Dance in a Shaky Market: In times of mixed sentiment, it’s all about diversifying within the risk spectrum. The pros are looking at safe havens like gold, but the hidden gem here is selectively picking defensive European stocks with high dividend yields. Fun fact—the higher the market volatility, the more attractive high-yield defensives become. They’re the market’s comfort food, and who doesn’t want a bit of comfort when things get wild? Riding the Waves with Humor and Strategy Navigating these choppy waters is all about seeing beyond the obvious. Whether it’s hedging against post-election hype, dancing with central bank liquidity, or picking the defensive gems, today’s market is full of opportunities hidden just beneath the surface. You just need to read between the lines and know when to zig when everyone else is zagging. And hey, if you need more in-depth analysis or want to join a community of traders who aren’t afraid to look under the hood of the market, check out our community membership for expert analysis, live insights, and the occasional bad joke (not included in the membership fee). The market is a battlefield, and with the right tools and a bit of humor, we’re all in this dance together. - Latest Economic Indicators and Forex News: Stay informed on market movements and groundbreaking concepts with exclusive, real-time updates at StarseedFX Forex News Today. - Forex Education: Expand your knowledge with in-depth resources, advanced methodologies, and little-known strategies at StarseedFX Forex Education. - Community Membership: Join the StarseedFX community for expert analysis, daily alerts, live trading insights, insider tips, and elite tactics by visiting StarseedFX Community. - Free Trading Plan: Set goals, manage risks, and track progress with our detailed trading plan. Discover rare strategic advantages at StarseedFX Free Trading Plan. - Free Trading Journal: Enhance performance and refine strategies with real metrics using advanced methods for progress tracking at StarseedFX Free Trading Journal. - Smart Trading Tool: Optimize your trading with automated lot size calculations, insights, and order management at StarseedFX Smart Trading Tool. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated   Read the full article

[officewebmaster315]

Through Hole Resistors: The Unsung Heroes of Electronics

In the realm of electronics, where currents dance and signals perform their intricate ballet, one key player steals the spotlight — the Operational Amplifier ICs (Integrated Circuits). These tiny marvels might not wear capes, but they possess the power to amplify, filter, and manipulate signals in ways that seem almost magical. Let’s embark on a journey into the enchanting world of operational amplifier ICs and discover the wonders they bring to our electronic devices.

Imagine your favorite music flowing through your headphones, the crystal-clear sound wrapping you in a sonic embrace. Behind this auditory magic lies the operational amplifier IC, a silent hero enhancing the signals to deliver an immersive musical experience. These ICs excel at amplifying weak signals with minimal distortion, transforming ordinary audio into a symphony of sonic bliss.

But operational amplifiers aren’t limited to the auditory realm; they play crucial roles in diverse electronic applications. From medical devices measuring heartbeats to precision instruments in laboratories, these ICs silently contribute to the accuracy and reliability of our gadgets. Their versatility is akin to a Swiss Army knife, adapting to various tasks with finesse.

At the heart of an operational amplifier IC lies its ability to amplify signals. Picture it as an electronic magnifying glass, taking a small input signal and making it more potent without losing fidelity. This characteristic makes them indispensable in countless applications, from audio amplifiers to signal processing circuits.

Moreover, operational amplifiers possess another superpower — feedback. Like a wise guide steering a ship through rough waters, feedback helps maintain stability and control. Negative feedback, the unsung hero, ensures that the output remains faithful to the input, minimizing distortion and maintaining accuracy. This dynamic duo of amplification and feedback creates a harmony that resonates across the electronic landscape.

One of the endearing qualities of operational amplifier ICs is their user-friendly nature. Their simple configurations make them accessible even to electronics enthusiasts who are just dipping their toes into the sea of circuits. With just a handful of external components, one can create circuits that perform complex operations, thanks to the innate intelligence embedded within these ICs.

In the grand tapestry of electronics, operational amplifier ICs are like the conductors, orchestrating the symphony of signals with precision and grace. Their widespread use in everyday electronics, from audio systems to industrial control systems, highlights their indispensability. Behind the scenes, they tirelessly work to elevate our electronic experiences, making the complex seem deceptively simple.

operational amplifier ICs might not be as flashy as the latest tech gadgets, but their impact is undeniable. From transforming faint signals into powerful waves of sound to ensuring the accuracy of medical instruments, these electronic wizards silently weave their magic into the fabric of our daily lives. So, the next time you enjoy your favorite tunes or marvel at the accuracy of a measuring instrument, take a moment to appreciate the unsung hero — the operational amplifier IC. It’s proof that even in the world of electronics, the simplest components can create the most enchanting experiences.

[heresthedealok]

Here's The Deal Podcast - The Max Baker Jr. Story - Episode 75 - The Texas Rangers Episode

In episode 75, we discuss something different from the Live Music / Concert Industry... One of Max's companies, The Fabulous Baker Boys were hired to provide labor for The Major League Baseball, World Series Champions, Texas Rangers Parade & Celebration. This was a massive event with almost a million people invading Arlington, TX.... As Max always says, "someone’s got to build it & make it happen".... That is what The Fabulous Baker Boys Do!!!!! We often say this show, or that show was Legendary, or a historic event.... This one truly was Legendary.... So many people in one place. A logistical nightmare... Working events like this are not for the weak or faint of heart. When the pressure is on, & the clock is ticking, quitting is not an option, that is when The Fabulous Baker Boys shine & the job gets done... GO RANGERS!!!!

listen here https://heresthedealok.com/

[digitalexpo]

Best Cardic Surgeon In Bhubaneshwar

Dr. Chandan Kumar Ray Mohapatra, Best Cardic Surgeon In Bhubaneshwar,  a renowned cardiovascular and thoracic surgeon, is widely recognized for his exceptional skills and experience in India. Currently serving as an Associate Professor and Consultant at KIMS & PBMH, he possesses a deep understanding of the human body and specializes in operating on the heart and lungs. Dr. Ray Mohapatra boasts an impressive track record of successful surgeries, and his patients consistently express high levels of satisfaction with the quality of care he provides. If you are searching for a highly skilled cardiovascular or thoracic surgeon, Dr. Mohapatra is an outstanding choice who will ensure that you receive the best possible outcome through his diligent work and dedication to excellence.  

Dr. Chandan Kumar Ray Mahapatra - Your Trusted Cardiac Surgeon 🌟 Recognizing the Signs of a Heart Attack:

1️⃣ Chest pain or discomfort.

2️⃣ Feeling weak, light-headed, or faint.

3️⃣ Pain or discomfort in the jaw, neck, or back.

4️⃣ Pain or discomfort in one or both arms or shoulders.

5️⃣ Shortness of breath.

Contact us for expert care and support!

Address: Chandaka Industrial Estate, Patia, Bhubaneswar, Odisha 751024

Phone: 9820050634

[parodyroyalle]

Reblog

Hmms well if we follow it across the pond to the young woman who alleged the BRF blackmail and open source confirms UK and Canada locations. We have intelligence to look into major crimes in the area such as gold theft and the link to location and link to similar attack on to reporters with video from live open source ( YouTube ).

I would say by guess they either paid out an inside job for hush money and will try to discredit witness from coming forward again as they were privy to all case files allegedly and confirmed on social media. That is if they are being blackmailed and trying to cover up.

Blue Jay Game timeline: This goes back 2016 and will be vague. Spot the two and two photos separate however do the same signal in the photo's. These photos are with other people and interpreted as signal of their comrade or agenda. If hinch is correct that could help JM and that circle in Toronto redeem themselves as it is seemingly a political thing with possibly Conservatives. All links to a past political scandal in the 911 community connecting to the same circle abusing badge, names, titles, networks and connections to elevate whatever agenda in same area that gold theft taken and the same departments. If the casualties were not animals, children, young people and seniors maybe I would not care as much to read into but sorry not sorry and yes, we are all linked and yes, people talk shop on the golf course.

If BRF are investigating I would say this is because they still have a perceived security breach this is still a possibility. It is always a possibility. Possibilities are endless and should be treated like such. They should always be vigilant as intel leaks after people leave their post can also occur. Maintain and Tale. Protect. Preserve. Prevent.

I did read there was something of a breach in the Intelligence in UK by someone gunning for top position inside the department? Got ousted and cried racism. So it would come as no surprise that Canada could have one too in the Toronto and extended region? Was there not a big lump sum stolen? Rumor has it was an inside job and people with relatives in the RCMP are allegedly laughing about it.

I read the above comment and cross referenced with the news and I don't think it makes KC look weak. I think it reveals weak links which is actually a learning point that circles world wide. I think it identifies the level of burn out around the world and how lax a daisy ppl are which in turn can potentially leave the system open for vulnerable attacks. Forgive me, I am human even though may sound robotic.

It not rumored and reported that MA was the love child of someone and from the Toronto area in the Eastend lol sorry just thought of Eastenders and S Club 7. It is a rumor heard on both sides of the pond and throughout the film industry. It was also recently circulating the relation between MA and OS and MM so the 3 way prong and then SOHO and of course the roasted chicken remarks on PH and the winner winner chicken dinner give away lottery hot sauce gumbo all in the same radius. Not for the faint of heart. Dirty rice. Jerk chicken is better in my opinion and generous with the gravy. This is where I'm going to have to toss in PC Jonas roti be roti. PC Jonas also said something like birds of a feather all sleep ... errm ... flock. They flock together... to the local "roti" shop... ... toss what? Birds and their Beards. I didn't come up with that one. someone posted a comment about Princess Anne wanting the beard to come off. Love is love and no discrimination please! X

Open reports showcase two indie reporters one in the US and one in Canada were both 1 degree of separation from camp Markle endured serious incidents and one of them was reported on International Trafficking and has a letter from HMTQ on open source social media delivered to the same Area location the money from the Airport was stolen, markle mayhem, etc went down around the time that PH was visiting before the engagement as posted in an old article from Metrolinks. When reading the news paper shows two hot spots for some shady crime that looks like department and insurance related. It is clear that we have two hot locations and very obvious that it's an attack that warrants defence of some kind. Unsure on the level of Intelligence however it seems one part totally f^ucked up and one part f^ucked up yet salvageable thanks to Anonymous and Indie. Something tells me to be f^rank and all the f^ckery wouldn't be without some git f^uck booys in mix so x o x o m^f winehouseiOs.

It is a tad embarrassing I could see why someone's would have an ego trip and want to cover the whole thing. I'd say go to the local waffle house get stacked. smother it with butter and maple. top up your java and a side of Orange juice and keep the pulp. It's good for the digestive system. Consider tapping a tree and jinggle all the way.

PB.S. education opinions and snark open source jabber waffle sauce

The King is investigating how letter was leaked..this is concerning…..you mean to tell me, after ALL that her and that one have done….he still has to investigate? So, when it is confirmed it was her….then what? Case closed? This is really making KC look weak….or blackmailed!

[thedryswan]

All’s well that ends well

 Day Five

As usual, Scott woke ten minutes before his 6am alarm. Sitting up and stretching, he winced at the pain in his shoulders. His arms ached and his knuckles were red raw from the hours of pounding the punching bag in the gym the previous day. Kayo had cleaned and treated them with witch hazel, carefully bandaging in silence, there were no words which could adequately express the deep, all encompassing sense of loss they both felt.

Dressing slowly, he ran a mental checklist of the day’s tasks. Discussions with lawyers and chairmen of the Tracy Industries board, talking through who needed to do what and what needed signing now that Jeff Tracy had perished aboard the Zero X.

At some point they would need to consider some kind of memorial service, but until John could convince Virgil to unlock his door and emerge from his room, plans would have to wait. By the sound of it, they would likely need to replace a few items of furniture in Virgil’s room and probably plaster a few holes in the walls and give them a coat of paint. At least there wasn’t broken glass or shattered mirrors and tiles in his bathroom to deal with.

Trudging heavy footed down the stairs, Scott paused at the entrance to the sunken lounge and looked across at his father’s desk, the chair unoccupied.

Continuing down to the kitchen, his heart sank. Only a week ago, had it been only a week? He would have found his father in the kitchen, busy brewing coffee, pouring not quite boiling water over Scott’s favourite Rooibos tea leaves, serving freshly baked danish pastries and squeezed fruit juice. Now the room was as unoccupied as the lounge above. A tiny part of his heart had been hoping that his father’s death was just a nightmare.

He sank onto a chair at the kitchen table, staring at Jeff’s empty seat, then flopped forward, burying his head in his arms and weeping silently, not wanting any of his brothers or his grandmother to hear his moment of weakness. Someone had to be the rock of strength holding everything together and, as the oldest son, that was his job. It always had been, ever since his mother had died in the avalanche.

 Day… 2953? 2954?

Rolling over, eyes still shut, Scott flapped a hand around on his bedside table, looking for his phone. Pressing the on button, he stared. Ten minutes past seven? Since when did he sleep through his alarm?

Stomach growling with hunger, he sat up and stretched, wincing at the pain in his right shoulder. It had almost been yanked from its socket a few days prior and the tendons were still complaining.

Pulling on an old USAF t-shirt and tracksuit trousers, he shuffled out onto the landing. Was he imagining the music playing in the distance? Yawning, and walking down the stairs as quietly as possible so as not to wake his brothers, he paused at the entrance to the sunken lounge and looked over at his father’s unoccupied desk chair.

From here, the music was a little louder and he could smell the faint aroma of coffee. Without hurrying, he continued down to the kitchen, blinking at the sight.

At the stove, wearing Virgil’s kitchen apron (a birthday present from the year before, with “Don’t mess with Mama Bear” printed on it), Jeff was waving a spatula, singing along to Neil Sedaka’s Calendar Girl, cooking bacon and eggs.

Pointing to the table, laden with fresh pastries and two jugs of fruit juice, he smiled.

“Your tea’s brewing, and I’ve added Rooibos to the supplies list, you’re running low.”

Scott lowered himself into a chair, nodding mutely and clenching his jaw in a desperate attempt to control his emotions. His father glanced over at him, frowned a moment, then removed the pan from the heat and turned the hob off. Limping slightly, he made his way across to the table and dragged a chair up close to his eldest son.

“I’ve got you, Scooter.” he murmured, reaching out and dragging Scott to sit on his lap, shifting his position to distribute Scott’s weight more evenly.

Without a pause, Scott flung his arms around his father, grabbing handfuls of Jeff’s pink flamingo shirt and began to sob into his shoulder. If his brothers heard him, so what? They had all burst into tears at least once since Jeff had arrived home from his short hospital stay, and none of them would think the less of Scott for those tears of relief.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42373317

[jmdbjk]

In the beginning

Jimin and Jungkook, Part One.

“When did you think Jimin and Jungkook started being together and how do you think it's going?”

I have thoughts but I need to preface it: I do not know anything for certain, these are just my opinions from what I’ve watched, learned and observed up until now. And after starting to organize and type this out, I realized I can’t do a methodical timeline type of thing. My brain just can’t do it. I also cannot be so detailed as to show specific examples of everything or go through it month by month because my mind does not catalog stuff like that. And there is no way to touch on every single aspect because there is SO MUCH WE’VE SEEN AND SO MUCH WE KNOW. I have a tendency to step back sometimes and consider the big picture of it all.

So this is my general synopsis of what I think from what I’ve seen, but it is very long and more or less a series about the different topics surrounding their “togetherness.”

In the beginning, Jimin and Jungkook were young, ambitious, talented boys who had a dream or an idea of a dream and were fortunate to have the opportunity to go for it. The early years (2013, 2014, 2015) together were spent developing their idol personas in the context of that industry at that time. From what I’ve learned, the idol system, especially at that time, is very cutthroat, competitive, chaotic, hardcore, somewhat questionable in how they treat the young people vying for spots in an idol group. It is not for the faint of heart. Reading about k-pop idol culture was eye opening for me and makes me even more surprised that Jimin almost totally shuns social media these days since he was such a “classic” idol at first.

Once BTS was formed, BigHit and the members spent a lot of blood, sweat and tears (see what I did there?) working out their dynamic/sound/look and in the process they became a team as close as brothers...they became family, with their own families included. You might call it their “tribe.” They built a tribe. And a good one if you ask me. The company has grown along with BTS and seems to be transforming the K-pop industry in positive ways. (I get actual hate for saying positive things about their company.)

Anyway. These two did not exist in a vacuum. Working, putting out music, choreography, performances, travelling, Jimin and Jungkook were with the other members 24/7, 365 days a year, with literally very little time off to pursue anything else. They were surrounded by the rest of the members, their staff and the mechanisms of their profession, forming and building relationships between each other and everyone around them.

As happens in a team of people who are working together, their relationships are as different as their personalities...some “click” with others and some maybe not so much and I don’t mean that in a negative way, I mean each person brings their own dynamic to the relationship and sometimes two people will really connect more than the others. I think BTS has that rare element of all the individuals are able to recognize their strengths and weaknesses and work together to make the final product/goal a total team effort. They have a mutual respect for each other. 

In Jungkook, Jimin probably saw someone who was very similar to himself: loves to perform, loves to dance, has a dream, sets out to achieve it. Jimin the natural leader and Jungkook his team mate, dongsaeng, the boy who was a little shy in social situations, is introverted but had this drive to achieve the same dream as Jimin’s. So Jimin being Jimin, takes him under his wing.

I think during the first two or two and a half years, their bond was mostly a mentor/protege relationship because:

1. Jimin had the work ethic of someone trying to prove to everyone that he was good enough to fit the idol mold and that extra effort did not escape Jungkook. Jungkook really admired Jimin’s determination.

AND

2. Jungkook needed emotional guidance. He debuted when he was 15 years old y’all. A child! He just didn’t know what to do in situations that were unpredictable. Jimin was still not an adult either but he thrived with Jungkook by his side. 

This relationship so far resulted in them supporting each other within the team. They fed off each other’s energy. How can you not be attracted to someone like that? It’s fun and exhilarating to be with someone like that. 

Jimin had a maturity beyond his years and knew what was expected of an idol. Jimin had a laser focus on his ambitions and goals. He’s even stated them before: he wanted to attend an arts high school and he did. He wanted to become an idol trainee and he did. He wanted to audition and be part of a group and he succeeded. He achieves everything he sets out to do. In his words: he can make his own way. Very confident, very goal oriented, very focused.

Jungkook perhaps wasn’t as articulate in this way and did not have the social skills and leadership skills that Jimin possessed. Jungkook was still figuring out what he really wanted to do, hence that minute when he considered ditching singing to devote his time to being a dancer. Jimin straightened him up on this it seems and Jungkook followed Jimin’s advice. They told us that themselves. 

They’ve joked many times that Jungkook copycats Jimin but I believe Jungkook really learned a lot about how to behave in social/public/interview situations when they were on camera just by watching Jimin very closely all the time. When else was he going to learn some social skills? He always seems very interested in how Jimin behaves and reacts. I think he wanted to be comfortably expressive like Jimin. Or maybe he just liked looking at Jimin like the rest of us! Some say its because he had a crush on Jimin and perhaps that had something to do with it as well. Regardless, Jungkook watched his mentor closely and eventually came out of his shell. 

And my thinking is, because they became close, because of Jimin’s personality, perhaps Jungkook’s parents trusted Jimin with the responsibility of being Jungkook’s liaison/emergency contact for his family. Your kid is across the country, hell, across the world...doing who knows what with who, maybe Jimin provided a little stability in that aspect.

Again, this was all happening while they were balls to the wall working day in and day out...working their asses off, living together, eating, sleeping, showering together, stinking up the bathroom, 24/7 literally 365 days a year.

go to Part Two...