#we live in a very expensive area and i realized a while ago that its just not possible for me to move out on my own around here

[florida3exclamationpoints]

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[aching-tummies]

Hey, this is the same anon whose hunger ask you answered on 22nd January! Just wanted to say your rp response was unexpected but delightful! You really have a way with words.

And for the Manual Stimulation starter:

I tiptoe downstairs, expecting to see you watching tv...only to find you on the couch with a still full stomach. My own one growls loudly, but I ignore it. It's been four hours since dinner - I can eat in the morning.

'What's wrong?' I want to ask, but I know what's up. Your stomach cannot disgest everything on its own, I realise now. Maybe I have been too lenient with the tummy rubs.

I sit down next to you on the couch. "It's okay, I'm here," I say to you. "Wow, you must've loved the mac and cheese, huh?" I say, smiling affectionately as I begin to massage your belly. At the mention of mac and cheese, my middle rumbles louder for food. I again ignore it. Honestly, so impatient!

I continue to massage your belly, hoping it begins to digest soon. I press a bit harder on it, whilst my own groans with hunger.

Wow, January 22? I'm shocked people are keeping date-stamps ^^ I had to go back into my archives to look for the post in question. Yeah, I enjoyed writing that one.

A familiar squeaking of one of the stubborn steps startles me out of my reverie. I jump in my seat, but soon settle when I realize it's just you.

"Hmm? Sweetie, what are you still doing up?" You yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you shuffle into the living area. Your stomach gives a hollow growl, revealing your own reason for venturing out of bed.

"Nngh…i-it's nothing. C-Couldn't sleep and I didn't wanna wake you." I mutter.

I can't help the wave of hot jealousy that washes over me at hearing your stomach growl--already hungry and demanding more food. I guess neither of us can really brag as the states of our tummies are what have us awake at almost 4AM…though for very different reasons.

I expect you to shuffle onward to the kitchen and fix yourself a "midnight" snack. Instead, my stomach gurgles sickeningly as it's jostled when you settle on the couch next to me.

"What's wrong?" You ask me seriously, reaching out to lay a palm over my belly, hidden under an oversized hoodie. Your eyes widen at the taut curve of my belly that meets your hand, not having much give to it even four hours after dinner. "Aww. You must have loved the mac and cheese, huh?" You mutter, gently kneading at my belly. "You're so full." You assume I snuck down to have seconds or something.

"Nnngh…oww…y-yeah…it was good…four hours ago." I snarl through gritted teeth as my stomach ache intensifies at your actions.

"Four? Still? This is from dinner?" Your eyes widen, palm slowing at the incessant kneading as you realize what's been keeping me up. I'm not up because I snuck down for a midnight snack. I'm up because dinner is still sitting like a rock in my stomach, overstaying it's welcome and causing all sorts of problems. "Aww…poor tummy." You coo at my stomach as the gurgles intensify under your touch. You continue your massage, but focus more on kneading at my intestines rather than at teasing my engorged stomach-organ. While you love teasing it when I overindulge, prodding at it after it's been straining for hours doesn't sit well with you. Guilt washes over you as you recount how the day went and begin to think this is your fault.

We had mac and cheese for dinner tonight--a rare treat 'cuz we both love it, but the ingredients are pretty expensive and we rarely ever have time for home-cooking. It's also not exactly a light dish so we don't indulge often. I stopped myself after two servings at dinner while you went for a third. We still had half the pan to put in the fridge as leftovers. The two servings didn't make me full, but I knew my poor tummy would struggle to digest something so heavy and I didn't want a 'too full' ache to accompany the upset that would no doubt happen. We've been burning the candle at both ends and been extremely busy for the last couple of months. When you went for your third serving, I assumed you'd be adding 'food coma' to 'exhaustion' in reasons that you'd be conking out pretty soon after dinner, leaving me with no help in trying to coax my stubborn stomach to digest.

Your stomach growls loudly and I frown, reaching over. The oversized pajama top you have on isn't buttoned all the way and it isn't hard for me to brush aside the loose fabric to reveal your adorable navel and the source of the hollow growls.

"Nnngh…you're loud." I mutter, deftly sliding a finger into your navel without warning. I feel you shudder at the sensation as my nail scratches at the sensitive flesh inside.

We continue this way, with you massaging my stomach, trying to coax it into digesting and with me poking at your stomach, particularly your cute little navel, whenever it growls. I poke deeply into your navel in retaliation whenever your massage gets a little too far on the painful side. As you get closer to me on the couch, I throw in a few descriptive phrases--mostly focused on food and the dinner we had hours ago, delighting in your shivers as the phrases cause your stomach to clench in hunger.

"Seriously, though, babe--weren't you coming down for a snack?" I ask you as the room begins to brighten. Apparently, we've been at this for a little over two hours.

"Nnngh…later." Your face is set in a determined pout and it seems you're set on getting my stubborn guts to digest before you fill your own belly.

I lean back on the couch, trying to relax as I remove my own hands from my tummy, letting you have free reign as you work your magic. The house is silent, save for the grumbling coming from both of our stomachs.

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Dear Frank, I would like to obliterate Big Pharma. How could we accomplish this lofty goal together?

I have been thinking about this a lot lately. I am not an expert on pharmaceuticals, but here are some thoughts:

(1) The generic drug industry is pretty healthy and competitive -- it's hard to imagine the FDA approving drugs that don't work well enough to be worth manufacturing at all (or very difficult to imagine), because there will always be companies out there who can beat them in terms of price if they do; thus any regulatory intervention in this area would need to carefully account for the fact that many or most consumers get their prescriptions filled with generics anyway

(2) "Brand name" drugs aren't as much better than generics as people tend to think. For example, here is one NYT article saying that branded statins are only ~5% more effective than generic ones. A few years ago, when I was working on a project involving cancer research, we got quotes from two different pharmacy providers, and found that a 30 day supply of a widely used anticancer medication cost $796 from CVS Caremark, and $84 from Walgreens, which makes you wonder whether the maker of the expensive version has actually done anything other than slap its logo on a bottle full of pills

In general, when doing experiments like this, your expectations should not be "how long does the treatment last," but rather "is it statistically distinguishable from placebo?" If so, then it doesn't matter how cheaply it could be produced.

Therefore, even though Big Pharma seems bad right now, it is unlikely that excessive government regulation of pharma would help anyone except generic drugmakers. And given that there are already many kinds of competition preventing Big Pharma from becoming too powerful, I feel skeptical that further regulation is needed (assuming that governments generally care about saving lives).

But maybe I just haven't thought through what kind of change might fix things? How would you propose fixing this problem?

P.S. One thing that seems relevant is how much money our various government agencies spend on drugs per year, compared to private insurance plans etc., and whether those agencies are responsible for creating new patents themselves or simply distributing current patented products. I've seen talk about paying lower prices for these products, but no discussion of any mechanism by which this happens.

The above discussion may also seem confused, since it suggests that the consumer is irrelevant to what goes on between Big Pharma and the FDA. But while I realize that individuals are powerless against such forces, if we want to make policy changes affecting millions of people, we cannot ignore the actual situation where individual patients find themselves. (We may not be able to solve problems for everyone, but we shouldn't pretend we have solved nothing.)

[kaoarika]

My drama with my 3DS battery.

Long story short - I bought a battery from a very dubious origin that surely looked a little damaged? It may have some electricity/connection issues because... well... it's a very dubious "original" battery :/

So. The past three months and some weeks it has been... okay. It DID have some electricity/plugging issues at the VERY start, but it was smth I easily resolved by putting the battery on the console again. It has been charging okay since.

Honestly, the battery lasts around 3 or 4 hours (tested at full when I was with the whole 3DS eshop closing, around March 26th and 27th) if it isn't plugged in and charging... but I am trying to take it slow and not turning it on or plugging it on too hot days... which unluckily it has been like that since a few weeks ago, and we haven't started the midsummer hot days YET... I already took my lesson in the hardest way possible.

But, I don't really discard the battery may have more electiricty issues between it and the console in the close future... and perhaps today was one of those days? Lol... It was cool this morning and I decided to charge my 3DS because yesterday I had an overlong 2 hours session with SMT: Devil Survivor and I know for a fact that the battery discharges around the middle when I do these playtime sessions. So, I put it, leave it around the hour or two hours and smth until I remembered that I was charging it, and I realized that it may have been fully as the light wasn't charging anymore. Huh. But I didn't turn it on to check and back up this statement. To my surprise, a few hours ago went to play some ACNL... and it wasn't charged. Still in the middle of the battery's charge. OKAY.

So. What happened here? I'm... not sure, lmao. Maybe it's that. Maybe I didn't plugged the charger right? Maybe my cat moved some cables this morning (she does it a lot, lol... especially now it's becoming a potential problem because I have my electric fan at my desk's side). The other thing is that I put the console on an area that I don't see it easily (it's the place I normally put my phone when charging it, however, lol) so I didn't really see to check it was charging.

If it charged, I am not entirely sure HOW it got drained if I didn't opened or played with it during the day, until a few hours ago.

I might probably? get a Chinese battery. Like I said, the battery I bought months ago (in person) is truly dubious. It looked like it was sorta damaged, but I was too aware of the potential issues from the future and that probability it might not last three or five years (at best) like the original 3DS battery. And it had a warranty of two weeks, lol. It wasn't THAT expensive either (still... depends on how you take 450 pesos as expensive, it's still over 20 USD considering how long it may last, too...)? But... I also know they are a little too "popular" and, considering I got it juuuust before the 3DS eshop closed? OOF (I hate the 2nd hand market for physical retro games as it is in the past few years).

I also do not trust the Chinese lithium batteries for the 3DS based on what I have seen in Reddit recommendation threads and Amazon itself :'D. And the only chance to get a brand new original is either living in the US or Canada because Nintendo being Nintendo :))) But what else I can do when I really do not have any relatives or friends living in the States -we do have an acquaintance living in Canada... but Nintendo ALSO made it DIFFICULT to get some stuff through their online store, like, FUCK?)

I decided to be checking if the battery drains its energy in the rest of the night... because it is a very isolated incident? And I really cannot explain what happened??? It's not like my phone (which is another whole can of worms altogether, but I KNOW it drains the battery because second-plain processes)... so I'm so confused... because today feels like a blur, really.

(I'm also thinking it may have been my charger? I have been using my old DSi one for a while already... but it doesn't make full sense, either? The thing of me not plugging it right, or maybe it was my cat's fault are more plausible... but I cannot dismiss the fact it COULD be a battery thing either...)

[wisdomrays]

QUESTIONS & ANSWERS: Are Muslims Guilty of Imperialism?

This charge continues to be leveled against the Muslim world. I would like to counter it by asking the following questions:

Given the existing circumstances of 1,400 years ago, how would any one living in Makka or Madina go about exploiting his own clan and tribe? If the supposedly exploited lands and people were those of the Hijaz, which were poor, unfruitful, and barren, who would have wished to invade or exploit them? It is ludicrous to level the charge of imperialist colonialism against the most noble-minded Muslims, who risked their lives to spread the message of Islam; who spent the greater part of their lives far from their children, families, homes, and native lands fighting armies ten or twenty times their size; and who felt deeply grieved when they did not die on the battlefield and join the earlier martyrs for Islam. We ask ourselves what worldly gain they obtained in return for such struggle, deprivation, and sacrifice!

Those who invaded, occupied, and exploited others with the worst intentions (and results) of imperialism are power-hungry individuals or nations. To mention a few: Alexander the "Great" and Napoleon, the Roman empire and Nazi Germany, the Mongol armies unleashed by Genghis Khan and the colonizing armies unleashed by western Europe, Russian dictatorship (whether czarist or communist) and the American empire (whether "manifest destiny" or "making the world safe for democracy"). Wherever such conquests came and went, they corrupted the morality of the conquerors and the conquered, causing chaos, conflict, tears, bloodshed, and devastation. Today their heirs, like bold thieves who bluff property owners to conceal their theft of that very property, turn to besmirching Islam, its Prophet, and his Companions.

True Muslims have never sought to exploit others. Nor have they let others do so where Muslim government had jurisdiction. At a time when Muslim armies were running from triumph to triumph, Caliph 'Umar said: "What befits me is to live at the level of the poorest Muslims," and he really did so. As he took only a few olives a day for his own sustenance, who was he exploiting?

After one battle, when a Muslim was asked to take the belongings of an enemy soldier whom he had fought and killed, he said: "I did not participate in the battle to take spoils." Pointing to his throat, he continued: "What I seek is an arrow here and to fall as a martyr." (His wish was granted.) While burning with the desire for martyrdom, who was he exploiting?

In another battle, a Muslim soldier fought and killed a leading enemy who had killed many Muslims. The Muslim commander saw him pass by his dead enemy. The commander went to the head of the dead soldier and asked who had killed him. The Muslim did not want to reply, but the commander called him back in the name of God. The Muslim felt himself obliged to do so, but concealed his face with a piece of cloth. The following conversation took place:

-Did you kill him for the sake of God?

-Yes.

-All right. But take this 1,000 dinar piece.

-But I did it for the sake of God!

-What is your name?

-What is my name to you? Perhaps you will tell this to everyone and cause me to lose the reward for this in the afterlife.

How could such people exploit others and establish colonies all over the world? To speak frankly, those who hate Islam and Muslims are blind to the historical truth of how Islam spread.

Let's look at what exploitation and imperialism are. Imperialism or colonization is a system of rule by which a rich and a powerful country controls other countries, their trade and policies, to enrich itself and gain more power at the other's expense. There are many kinds of exploitation. In today's world, they may take the following forms:

• Absolute sovereignty by dispossessing indigenous people in order to establish the invader's direct rule and sovereignty. Examples are western Europe's conquest of North and South America, as well as Australia and New Zealand, as well as the Zionists' conquest of Palestine.

• Military occupation so that the invaders can control the conquered nation's land and resources. One example is British colonial rule in India.

• Open or secret interference and intervention in a country's internal and foreign affairs, economy, and defense. Examples are those Third World countries who are manipulated and controlled by various developed countries.

• The transfer of intellectuals, which is currently the most common and dangerous type of imperialism. Young, intelligent, and gifted people of the countries to be exploited are chosen, given stipends, and educated abroad. There they are introduced to and made members of different groups. When they return to their country, they are given influential administrative and other posts so that they can influence their country's destiny. When native or foreign people linked to exploiters abroad are placed in crucial positions in the state mechanism, the country is conquered from inside. This immensely successful technique has enabled Western imperialists to achieve many of their goals smoothly and without overtly rousing the enmity of the people they wish to subjugate. Today, the Muslim world is caught in this trap and thus continues to suffer exploitation and abuse.

Whatever kind of imperialism they are subjected to, countries suffer a number of consequences:

• Various methods of assimilation alienate people from their own values, culture, and history. As a result, they suffer crises of identity and purpose, do not know their own past, and cannot freely imagine their own future.

• Any enthusiasm, effort, and zeal to support and develop their country is quenched. Industry is rendered dependent upon the (former) imperial masters, science and knowledge are not allowed to become productive and primary, and imitation is established firmly so that freedom of study and new research will gain no foothold.

• People remain in limbo, totally dependent upon foreigners. They are silenced and deluded by such empty phrases as progress, Westernization, civilization, and the like.

• All state institutions are penetrated by foreign aid, which is in reality no more than massive financial and cultural debt. Imports, exports, and development are wholly controlled by or conducted according to the exploiter's interests.

• While no effort is spared to keep the masses in poverty, the ruling classes become used to extravagant spending and luxury. The resulting communal dissatisfaction causes people to fight with each other, making them even more vulnerable to outside influence and intervention.

• Mental and spiritual activity is stifled, and so educational institutions tend to imitate foreign ways, ideas, and subjects. Industry is reduced to assembling prefabricated parts. The army tends to become a dumping ground for imperialist countries, for its purchases of expensive hardware ensure the continued well-being of the latter's industries.

We wonder if it is really rational to liken the Islamic conquest to imperialism, which brought disastrous consequences wherever it went.

The victory of Muslim armies never caused a great exodus of people from their homes and countries, nor has it prevented people from working by putting chains on their hands and feet. Muslims left the indigenous people free to follow their own way and beliefs, and protected them in exactly the same way it protected Muslims. Muslim governors and rulers were loved and respected for their justice and integrity. Equality, peace, and security were established between different communities.

If it had been otherwise, would the Christians of Damascus have gathered in their church and prayed for a Muslim victory against Christian Byzantium, which was seeking to regain control of the city? If Muslims had not been so respectful of non-Muslims' rights, could they have maintained security for centuries in a state so vast that it took more than 6 months to travel from one end to another?

One cannot help but admire those Muslim rulers and the dynamic energy that made them so, when we compare them to present-day rulers. Despite every modern means of transportation, telecommunications, and military back-up, they cannot maintain peace and security in even a small area of land.

Today, many scholars and intellectuals who realize the value of Islam's dynamics, which brought about Islam's global sovereignty and which will form the basis of our eternal existence in the Hereafter, expressly tell us that Muslims should reconsider and regain them. While conquering lands, the Muslims also were conquering their inhabitants' hearts. They were received with love, respect, and obedience. No people who accepted Islam ever complained that they were culturally prevented or ruined by the arrival of Muslims. The contrast with the reality of Christian Europe's conquests is stark and obvious.

Early Muslims evaluated the potential of knowledge and art in the conquered lands. They prepared and provided every opportunity for local scholars and scientists to pursue their work. Regardless of their religion, Muslims held the people in high regard and honored them in the community. They never did what the descendants of the British colonialists in America did to the American Indians or in Australia to the Aborigines, the French to the Algerians, or the Dutch to the Indonesians. On the contrary, they treated the conquered people as if they were from their own people and religion, as if they were brothers and sisters.

Caliph 'Umar once told a Coptic Egyptian who had been beaten by a Makkan noble to beat him just as he had been beaten. When 'Umar heard that 'Amr ibn al-'As had hurt the feelings of a native Egyptian, he rebuked him: "Human beings were born free. Why do you enslave them?" As he went to receive the keys to Masjid al-Aqsa, 'Umar visited and talked to priests in different churches in Palestine. Once he was in a church when it was time to pray. The priest repeatedly asked him to pray inside the church, but 'Umar refused, saying: "You may be harassed by other Christians later on because you let me pray in the church." He left the church's premises and prayed outside on the ground.

These are but a few examples to indicate how Muslims were sensitive, tolerant, just, and humane toward other people. Such an attitude of genuine tolerance has not been reached by any other people or society.

[witchbinchstories]

Worth It - Part 2

Pairing: Kang Sae-byeok x gn!Reader

Summary: Continuation of last night, where Sae-byeok invites you to spend the night at her apartment. In the morning, you two find something to do while you skip work.

Part 1

Words: ~3k

Contains: Fluff, spoiler-free

A/N: A beautiful person on AO3 requested a part 2, so here we are! This also unintentionally matched with a request someone sent me here for Sae-byeok making the reader breakfast, but I’m still going to write a separate fic for that. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!

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Eventually, Sae-byeok and I manage to pull ourselves out of her bed and resist the temptation to sleep all day and make our way to the kitchen. Sae-byeok opens a cupboard and pulls out what looks like a box of tea, before turning her gaze on me as I sit myself on a stool in front of the makeshift island that’s really just supposed to be a half-wall dividing the kitchen from the living room..

“Do you want any chai?” she asks, holding up the box.

“Sure,” I say, a small smile on my face, “thanks.”

She turns back around and pours water into the electric tea kettle I gave her for her birthday a couple months ago. She had been complaining about how her old stovetop kettle would take forever to heat up, since the stove in her apartment doesn’t work very well, so I finally decided to get her a simple, light teal electric kettle. Originally, she wouldn’t accept it, saying it was too expensive (it really wasn’t), but I managed to convince her to take it.

“Should we make some food, too?” I ask, suddenly noticing the feeling of having an empty stomach. She nods and leans down to grab a pan from a cabinet.

“Omelets sound good?”

“That sounds delicious right now,” I hop off the stool and enter the main area of the kitchen, “I can help you make them.”

Sae-byeok grabs some eggs, butter, cheese, tomato, and onion. She turns the stove on so it can start its long process of heating up and drops some butter into it.

“Do you want to beat the eggs while I chop the onion and tomato?” she asks through slightly closed lips that she’s using to hold a hair tie as she uses her hands to gather her hair into a low ponytail. I don’t answer at first, I’m too busy staring at her. I love it when she puts her hair up, it hides her face much less. I love the little pieces that fall out because they’re too short to be pulled back, how they frame her face and lightly curl and rest against her cheeks.

“Uh, yes, I can do that,” I quickly respond and crack a couple eggs into a bowl, then whisk it with a fork until they’re all mixed together. Eventually, the stove heats the pan up and the butter finishes melting, so I pour the eggs in. This is when I realize that I don’t know how to make an omelet. I feel my face heat up a little, and aimlessly stir the mixture in the pan. I hear Sae-byeok say my name from behind me.

“Do you not know how to make an omelet?” she asks. When I turn my head to look at her, she has a small smirk to match an overall amused expression. I feel my face flush even more.

“No…” I answer. She throws her head back in laughter, eyes scrunching closed. God, she looks so cute. It takes everything I have to not kiss her right then, so I turn back around to face the stove.

“Here, let me show you,” she says. I feel her lean in behind me to reach around and grab the handle of the pan, and now I’m pretty sure my face may burst into flames if it gets any hotter. “You have to shake it like this while it cooks.” She shakes the pan back and forth to demonstrate.

“Mhm,” I’m barely paying attention, but she’s so close, how could I? I can feel her breath on my skin, and she’s placed a hand on the middle of my back to steady herself as she leans in. This is a completely normal level of physical contact for us, but usually I would be the one to initiate it. Plus, everything seems much more electrifying after spending the night here last night.

“And then you lift up the edges with a spatula,” she motions for me to do so with one she had set on the counter earlier. I do as she says.

“Okay, good, now just keep doing that until it’s set and we’ll put the filling in.” She moves away from me and over to a different counter space to chop the tomato and onion. After she’s done, she brings them and the cheese over and I put what I want on top of the eggs, after we designate this omelet as mine. Then, we fold it, let it sit for a little longer, and it’s done.

“I hope you like it,” she chuckles as she watches me sit back at the bar and turns to make her own omelet.

“Well, your teachings were spectacular. Thank you, Chef Kang,” I say.

She laughs again, shaking her head, “Shut up.” Her tone is lighthearted, and despite the fact that she’s turned away, I can see her cheeks curve more in a smile.

I go ahead and start eating my omelet, and it’s probably the best one I’ve ever had.

“This is really good,” I say, mouth still stuffed with food. She just turns to briefly look at me with a smile on her face, then she shortly finishes her own omelet and comes to lean against the counter across from me, resting her forearms on the surface, on either side of the plate in front of her.

“You should be like a personal chef or something, seriously,” I say after swallowing another bite.

“I didn’t even make the one you’re eating,” Sae-byeok responds pointedly, looking at me with slightly raised brows.

“Well then I bet yours is even better!” I lean forward and open my mouth, hinting that I want a bite of her omelet. She rolls her eyes with a small smile and just picks up my plate to hold it in front of my mouth. I give her a pouty look and she reluctantly sets my plate back down and puts part of her omelet on it.

“You’re ridiculous.”

I ignore her and eat the piece she gave me. My eyes instantly light up. “It is better! You should—”

“I’m not going to be someone’s personal chef,” she cuts me off.

“Will you be my personal chef?”

She stays quiet for a minute. “Maybe.”

“Yes!” I exclaim, warning another eye roll from her.

Soon, we finish eating and the tea is ready, so we make our way into the living room to sit on the couch with each other and our mugs. Sae-byeok exits the room to grab her laptop and when she returns, her hair has been let down out of the ponytail. She sits on the couch next to me and places her laptop on the coffee table in front of us. We briefly argue over what to watch, but it’s not angrily, we both just try and get the other person to choose. Eventually we settle on some drama we’ve both seen many times before.

Deciding to continue my boldness from last night, as we settle into the couch, I lean against her side. Once again, I am met with Sae-byeok tensing up by my side, then slowly relaxing. She leans away from me for a moment and I’m filled up with that same anxiety from before. My chest feels tight and I can feel a warmth creeping up my neck and cheeks, embarrassed that I made an unreciprocated move. However, my worries are cut short when she leans back over and tosses a blanket over the both of us and returns next to my side. I look over at her, and she looks back at me.

“I wanted to make sure we didn’t get cold,” she says simply, and turns to watch the show. I look at her for a few more moments, concern ebbing away with each passing second. The previous tightness in my chest being replaced with a light airiness that bubbles up into excitement, causing a smile to grow on my face when I, too, turn back to the show.

We sit in contentment, happy to be able to forget about the world and be lazy for a while. My happiness is compounded by my contact with Sae-byeok. Our arms resting above the blanket, brushing each other whenever one of us moves. My legs, bent to rest on top of each other in front of me on the couch, making me lean further into Sae-byeok, and her leg resting next to mine.

I feel something cool touching my fingers, and I realize Sae-byeok has moved her hand so that our pinkies are touching and she is slightly moving hers on top of mine. Without looking at her, I turn my hand over, inviting her hand into mine. When she laces our fingers together, my face is in flames again. I glance over at her and see that her right hand has found its way to her neck, feeling over her scar again. Her cheeks are also tinted a slightly pinkish color, causing her freckles to stand out more.

I am definitely not paying attention to the show now. Now I’m just staring at her laptop with endless thoughts running through my mind. Are we holding hands platonically? Or romantically? Her hands are cold, is it weird that I like the difference in the temperatures of our hands? Does she think my hand is too warm? Is Sae-byeok as nervous as I am right now? Will this lead to something more? Is it okay if I kiss her right now? No, that’s stupid. Just sit in the moment for a bit, don’t mess anything up. But will I kiss her later?

I blink a couple of times, trying to wake myself up from this daze. Eventually I’m back in the real world and I can actually kind of sorta turn my attention back to what we’re supposed to be watching.

“Ooh, I always love this part…” Sae-byeok says, mostly to herself I’m pretty sure. Someone in the show does something stupid, and then another character says something funny about it. I find myself laughing along and beside me, Sae-byeok throws her head back with laughter like she does when she finds something truly funny. Her beautiful brown eyes squeeze shut and the bridge of her nose crinkles. My own laugh fades away as I watch her, hypnotized by her beauty. As she leans her head back, her hair falls back from its usual position floating, curling around her neck, and instead exposes the skin there. I feel a dull ache in my chest as I so desperately want to kiss her. Kiss each and every one of her freckles, kiss her lips, her nose, kiss her neck and the scar there I know she hates.

“You’re beautiful,” I blurt. At first, I’m not sure if I said it out loud. Then, I’m not sure if she heard it. She was still laughing, but that laughter was dying down. Did I say it quietly enough that she didn’t hear it?

“What?” She asks, suddenly serious. Her usual stern expression returns, no emotion visible in her eyes, and her eyebrows are furrowed slightly.

I gulp. There’s no going back now. “You’re beautiful,” I repeat. She doesn’t say anything, the only change is that her eyebrows furrow more. I decide to continue. “Your smile is beautiful. Your laugh is beautiful. You do this thing where you scrunch up your nose when you find something really funny. I love it. I love the way lights sparkle in the brown of your eyes, and the way your hair curls the slightest bit around your face, framing it perfectly. I love your freckles, too. I always want to be able to count and kiss all of them. I want to kiss you.”

I’m out of breath. She’s looking at me in shock. Her cheeks have gotten redder and redder as I’ve continued talking. Her hand returns to the side of her neck for a moment as she glances away, still no emotion in her expression. I can’t ever read her when she’s like this. She opens her mouth to say something, but decides against it.

The silence of the apartment is deafening, yet all I can do is stare at her and wait. Or leave. I’m starting to think I should do the latter, but she turns her gaze back on me and leans her face closer to mine the slightest bit.

“I… want to kiss you too,” she says. Almost as soon as the words have passed her lips, my mouth is on them. I don’t even recall leaning in, but I’m glad I didn’t have the time to think about it or else I would have second guessed myself.

Sae-byeok kisses me back and it’s everything I could’ve hoped for. Her lips are soft and gentle against mine and it feels like we fit perfectly together. My hand finds its way to her hair and I lightly lace my fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck as I feel one of her hands wrap around to my back and one come to rest at my collarbone.

When she pulls away, I involuntarily lean in, trying to reconnect our lips, but I realize that both of us have to breathe and so I manage to stop myself. As I take some deep breaths, I hesitantly drag my eyes upwards to look Sae-byeok in the eyes.

She’s already looking back at me, eyes wide, and a rosy tint on her cheeks and lips. It makes my heart explode and makes me want to do it all over again, to kiss her for the first time over and over.

“Did that really just happen?” I ask quietly, afraid that it’s all just a dream.

“Yeah… yeah, I think so,” Sae-byeok responds. Then, she looks away and her voice gets quieter, “can we do it again?”

I gently move my hand that’s on the back of her neck to her cheek, and guide her head to look back at me.

“Yes please.”

A tiny smile appears on her face and we both lean in once again. This time is much softer, less rushed. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to have a first kiss with Sae-byeok again, I want to be able to kiss her all the time. This kiss is even better than the first. We ease into each other, slowly leaning into the couch to be able to be supported not just by each other. I cup her face with both of my hands and she wraps her arms around me and I feel like I’m home.

This time, when we pull away from each other, I lean back in to lightly kiss the freckle above her lip, then I kiss a few freckles on her cheeks, and end with a kiss to her nose before fully allowing myself to pull away.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that…” I say, a bit embarrassed.

“I think I have an idea if it’s anything like how long I’ve wanted to…” she responds.

“So that’s why you were nervous about me staying over, wasn’t it?”

“What?” she pauses. “How did you know I was nervous about that?”

“I can just tell,” I smile, a bit smug with the fact she doesn’t know.

She gives me a look. “Tell me how.”

“No, I don’t want to. You’ll change it then and I don’t want you to.” It’s a part of who she is, something unique to her. If she stops, then she’s changing who she is. And it’s not like it’s harmful.

“Fine,” Sae-byeok sighs, but a smile reappears on her face as her eyes scan my features once again. She looks away, back at the show that is still playing on her laptop. I keep looking at her, never getting enough of admiring her. “Does this mean we’re…”

“Dating?” I finish after she trails off. She nods. “If that’s something you’d like, then… I would definitely love to be dating you.”

“I… would like that, I think,” she answers.

“Me too.”

“Well then… I’m glad to be dating you.”

I laugh a bit. “Why are you being so formal?”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are.”

“Whatever… let’s just watch the show now,” Sae-byeok turns back to watch the laptop, but now she leans up against my side, still a bit hesitant. It brings a smile to my face and I rest my head on the top of hers. As we watch the show, I find myself content in the peaceful moment, being able to relax with the person I most want to be with. It really feels like a dream. I stayed the night at her house, then I got to make breakfast with her, then I got to kiss her, and finally, Sae-byeok is now my girlfriend. This could not be a better day.

I reach over to my mug, and bring it to my lips. When I take a sip of the tea, it has become cold, gone long untouched. It’s okay, we can make more later. For now, I don’t care about wasted tea, only being here with Sae-byeok.

[acahope311]

Silver Lining

Sleepover Request

luna-xial said: So so so I see you have requests open due to your sleepover (also Ohmygosh congratulations!!) and I was wanting to ask if you could do something with Kili for the fluff prompt list, #3??? ❤️❤️ (if not that’s okay, I just wanted to request something because your writing is so good 🥺❤️) (“(She/he/they) don’t compare to you. No one does.”)

A/N Wow! This one is a doozy. I loved writing this, Kili has always been one of my favorite characters, and the prompt lead to so many directions but I chose to do one where angst was not an option🥺 Thank you so much for sending this in @luna-xial and participating in the sleepover 🥰

*I wanted to thank @guardianofrivendell for double-checking my writing and making sure I knew the difference between "pinning" and "pining" LMFAO!*

Warnings: none? I guess self-doubt?

Erebor was bustling. What once was a dormant and abandoned mountain, a reminder of dwarven greed, now symbolized second chances, wealth, and life. Dwarves from the Blue Mountains were flocking to the mountain, some were those who never thought they would live to see the Lonely Mountain rise from the horizon, the rest were ambitious young dwarrows hoping to start anew. Men were also moving back to Dale, revitalizing the growing community in the shadow of the great mountain- of course, King Bard and his family oversaw the restoration of the city and personally welcomed the new arrivals. Whilst similarly in Erebor, Thorin himself rolled up his sleeves and took to reconstructing the home of his forefathers- his Company by his side. Which were quite a sight to see as thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, and a woman all lifted, chiseled, and swept away rubble, ash, and dirt. Little by little, the fruits of labor began to show and soon the rock-hewn walls seemed to sing the history of the mountain and once the mountain was unearthed, the new dwarves were settled in. You found you had more time to explore the mountain. The grand stone walls of Erebor encased your miniature frame. Funny enough, being a human woman you were head and shoulders taller than most dwarves, but the walls and statues made you shrink. As you quietly made your way through the halls, you’d occasionally run into a group of dwarrow, warm pleasantries were exchanged and small talk was exchanged. Once the mountain was more established and a trade agreement was founded, Thorin had appointed you as a live-in ambassador to Dale and Mirkwood, much to his chagrin. At first living in the mountain had a rocky start, Durin’s folk were always wary of strangers- especially from another race, but once you had proven yourself time and time again, you were welcomed with open arms. However, some still were reluctant to see you as an ally, making it a point to sometimes emphasize your foreignness. Yet you never held it against them but had always put it up to jealousy, for not only were you the woman who accompanied and aided in the quest to reclaim the Lonely Mountain alongside Thorin Oakenshield, but you were very close to the Durin princes-- especially Kili. From the moment you and Kili met, the Company knew you were both trouble. Being both the youngest in the group meant mischief that even Fili had to take a step back to make sure you two were not in over your heads. At first, it was all fun and games, but somewhere along the line, you realized that he meant so much more to you than a friend; you loved him. You’d carried this torch with you throughout the whole quest and although you’d hoped it would extinguish, his sunlight smiles, friendly touches, and adoring eyes fanned the flames of your feelings- it didn’t help that he would always make time to end every night in conversation with you. As time went on, even Fili could see your pining and couldn’t help but smile fondly knowing that you and his brother held mutual feelings but were just too blinded by their infatuation for each other to realize the truth.

One day, at the training grounds when you and Fili were free from your duties, the golden prince set his plan into action. As he stood by the side, he seemed to be lost in thought- reliving an earlier conversation he had with his brother.

“Fi, what do I do?” Kili wailed, sitting in front of his brother as he patiently waited for him to comb his hair. Fili sighed, he knew that wail very well.

“Whatever do you mean, brother dear?” He said teasingly while pulling on a particularly tough knot. Resisting the tugs, Kili began to rant.

“You know what I mean. What do I do about y/n? I want to start the courting process, even Uncle thinks it’s a good idea, but I am so lost… I don’t even know if she returns my feelings.” Kili’s head droops a little at the thought of you not loving him the same way. Fili chuckles at his expense, the sound causing Kili to huff in faux indignation. “I’m glad you’re having a good laugh at my expense brother.”

“Forgive me nadad, but that is such a crazy notion. She loves you, I can see it in the way she lights up when you’re in the room, did you know that?” He says as he continues to untangle the knots in his raven hair.

“Truly?” Kili asks with a little more pep in his tone.

“Truly. You’d think Mahal himself walked into the room with the way her eyes brighten.” Fili smiles as he remembers how in an earlier discussion between you and him, your whole demeanor changed the moment his brother came into the room- like a plant being watered after a drought.

“Do not doubt, brother. She loves you fiercely.” With a reassuring pat on Kili’s shoulder, Fili stands and prepares himself for the day.

“But for Mahal’s sake, fix your hair. I’m sure even she wouldn’t want a prince with a rat’s nest for hair. Amad will shave you if you keep that up!” Fili said as he saw Kili ruffle his hard work.

“I know that! But I also know she’ll love me if I am as smooth as a newborn bairn. She said she loved my hair once on the quest, just before we all fell asleep.” He swooned at the memory. “You don’t understand Fi. I think she is the one, MY One. And I want to do right by her.” Kili’s eyes shone with determination. Speechless, Fili stares at his brother. Then laughs a hearty laugh, confusing Kili.

“What’s so funny?!” He asks, a bit embarrassed. Fili wipes the tears away as he controls his breathing.

“Nothing bad, it’s just that… You truly can find the good in anything! It wasn’t but a moment ago that you were wailing about her not loving you and now you’re declaring her your One.” Fili explains, again brushing his little brother’s hair.

“Oh… Brother, I only do that because of her. She always sees the positive side of everything- and I want to be like that to her. But I can’t do this on my own. Will you help me?” Kili asks timidly. Fili stops and looks directly at him,

“Of course.”

The sound of wood splintering brings Fili back to the present. You ended up breaking the wooden pole and looking sheepishly at him. Sighing fondly, he helps you find a replacement. Once a new one has taken its place, you resume your training while Fili observes.

“You know.” Fili inquired, breaking the silence. “You seem to be so skilled with the sword. Have you tried other weapons?” As you attack a wooden post, the question causes you to pause mid-swing. Pondering this, a small flush creeps onto your face. Suddenly shy, you look down.

“I have been wanting to learn how to shoot a bow…” You whisper as a certain dark-haired prince’s visage of letting loose a quiver of arrows flash in your mind. “I’d always admired how Kili could so quickly nock an arrow and aim with such precision in such a short amount of time. All with a smile, did you know that? That cheeky cub.” You said smiling unknowingly.

Fili smirked. “Now, why would you want to learn how to use a bow, y/n?” he asks- already knowing the answer. As you squirm uncomfortably under his questioning, the silence stretches out. After what seems to be a lifetime, you look up and answer with a determined gleam in your eye.

“Because I want to impress Kili.” You say softly, but resolutely. The answer stuns Fili into silence. After a heartbeat of silence, you continue.

“I know I am not of royal or noble descent. Nor am I rich- I’m not even a dwarf! But I do truly love your brother. I cannot offer much but I would like to start by offering the time to get to better understand his favorite weapon.” You pause, unsure whether you should continue, but you push on. “From what I understand, weaponry and skills are an important part of dwarven courtship, and I would like to take that chance… I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Your brother is worth that chance-- and if nothing comes from it, I at least can say that I tried. ” A loving look passes your face, reminding him of the times you all sat around the fire and listened to his brother’s stories- already he knew you had fallen hard. ‘She always sees the positive side of everything’, Kili’s voice resonates in his mind.

“But I am still a novice in this… So I may need your help?” You conclude, less confident than what you meant. Exhaling in relief, Fili smiles and turns around. At first, you are worried that you’d insulted him, but when he returns promptly with a bow and a quiver of arrows, your face breaks into a grin.

“I’d gladly teach you,” Fili says proudly as he hitches his belt. You nod and reach for the bow, but at the last minute, he pulls away.

“But I can think of a better teacher, right brother?” A chuckle resonates from the sidelines behind you. Turning around, you see Kili walking towards you, smiling. He reaches for the bow and arrows from Fili and knocks foreheads softly.

“Thank you.” Fili pulls away and nods, as he moves to the exit he passes by you and winks.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Silently, the golden prince leaves the training area- leaving you alone with Kili. Turning to him, you can't help but notice your heartbeat so fast that you're sure he can hear it. The silence grows as you both stare at each other until he clears his throat

"I know Fili may have said that I'd be a better teacher, but I will be honest… I don't think I am." He confesses as he subconsciously nocks an arrow and pierces the wooden post.

"I learned by example, but I will teach you everything I know and by the end of the day, you'd be the best archer in all of Erebor." He says sweetly. "Well… second best. After me of course." Correcting himself. You gasp at his cheekiness and punch his shoulder playfully.

"Alright, alright. Let's get this lesson started."

Several hours passed, and so had several arrows yet not one hit the target. You were out of breath, your arms shaking so much you could barely lift the bow. Kili looked over you, took in the sight of your sweaty form and shaking arms. He sat on the ground with a thump- the sound surprising you.

"Kili? Are you alright?" You asked worriedly, kneeling down next to him.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, not looking at you. Confused, you take his hand into yours and begin to rub his arm comfortingly.

"What do you mean? No need to apologize, you're a great teacher- I'm just a bad student hahaha!" You joke. However, Kili shakes his head.

"No, I'm a better teacher than this, it's just that I am distracted…" he admits, further confusing you. Kili continues, "I heard what you said with Fili." Shocked, you ask, "How much did you hear…?" You look down, unable to meet his eyes.

"All of it." Your shoulders droop in dismay. Ashamed, you begin to pull away, but his grip tightens.

"You don't need to be anything for me, y/n. I don't need a princess nor do I need a lady- I just need you." Kili's confession snaps your eyes to his.

"You don't mean that." You respond, barely a whisper. Your eyes fall on your lap once again, but Kili tilts your chin up so your eyes stare into his deep brown eyes.

"I do, amrâlimê. With every ounce of my being." He smiles the smile that can make even the darkest nights seem like morning. Still, clouds of doubt linger.

"I came from nothing, Kili… You are a prince, there are so many other dwarrowdams, clothed and draped with gems and gold- I cannot compare to that. You deserve-" Suddenly you're pulled forward and silenced as his lips meet yours. At first, Kili seems hesitant, giving you enough time to pull away, but to his relief, you begin to kiss him back. Your hand reaches up and caresses his cheek, while his free hand pulls you in closer, deepening the kiss. For a moment, the clouds break and all thoughts of doubt leave your mind, replaced by a feeling of wholeness-- as though you had found a half you'd never known you'd lost. Reluctantly, however, you both pull away to breathe but bring your foreheads together, basking in each other's presence- time begins to move again.

"My heart belongs to no one except to you, y/n. You are my One and I love you. Don't worry about them; they cannot compare to you. No one can." He breathes, cupping your face in both his hands. Unbeknownst to you, tears trail down your eyes.

"But-" He kisses you again, softly. Brushing away any second thoughts you'd have.

"No buts. Do you know why they don't compare? It's because, in the end, I know they will only want me for my title and gold. But you?" He wipes your tears away and smiles lovingly at you. "You love me for me. You'd seen me at my highs and lows. Moreover, you always show me the bright side of everything, ghivashel. They can keep their gems and golden gowns. For you are my silver lining." With that, Kili pulls you into a tight hug and all you can do is smile as the clouds of doubt break. Assuring you that come what may, no matter what clouds your thoughts, Kili's love for you is true, and will always show you the bright side- he is your silver lining.

[demonslayedher]

I'm glad you reactivated the questions, here are some flowers for you: 💐 Seriously speaking I'm sorry that because of a question I asked you a few weeks ago you watched a series of videos of psychopaths 🥲It made me laugh at first but then I felt guilty 💔 it's all Muzan's fault for leaving us all with curiosity (imagine his parents' reaction once they realized there was something wrong with him even as a human)

Yay, flowers (which I shall kill with my black thumb)! And no, no, it’s fine, I had hoped it came off funny! I like listening to stuff like that while I draw anyway because I’m a nerd anyway and I found it very interesting.

Speaking of being a nerd, you have innocuously unlocked the following essay about Heian period nobility and wisteria flowers: There is nothing to state so in canon, but I find it highly reasonable to say Muzan might had been of the very powerful Fujiwara clan. Step inside my office, Anon.

Okay. So. The Heian period, simply put, was a time of cultural flourishing and beautiful pastimes, the origins of a lot of Japanese style aesthetics, and a romantic courtly like of romancing everybody else in the court. This is assuming, of course, that you were at the very, very, very, very top of society. Otherwise, the vast majority of people were poor and sick and starving and ew, in young Muzan’s world, we do not wish to associate with that. In the Heian court, Kyoto basically is the whole cultural world. Even though there were other cities that could rival Kyoto, the emperor was there, so it was essentially the cultural center of the country. The nobles who lived there got money from owning land in far-flung provinces, but actually having to live in those provinces? What a drag! Having to live away from Kyoto for work, even if it wasn’t an official banishment, often felt like a punishment to the nobles and their families who were used to the social scene at court. And, like affluent courts around the world throughout history, understanding all the intricacies of style and “Heian Rumors” was key to having social clout, and popularity was power. And yeah, nobles would be vicious to each other. While clan dynamics and history are complex and not something I’m getting into here (I don’t consider myself well-versed in it enough), the Fujiwara clan is a BIG DEAL.  Basically, in Heian times, children were typically raised in their mother’s home, thereby heavily influenced by their mother’s clan, so besides a young man’s parents, his in-laws also would had been hugely influential in his life, as they will have a long-felt influence on his progeny. The Emperors typically married Fujiwara daughters. This, in addition to other positions of influence of the Fujiwara clan members usually held with influence over the Emperor, means that politically, there was no messing with them. Now, just because I say Muzan might had been a Fujiwara clan member, I don’t necessarily mean a member of the main branch of the family. Often, due to inheritance management, different branches of various noble clans might be given different surnames. The Fujiwara clan does have different branches, some of which did go one to have close ties with the imperial family even after the fall of their power at the end of the Heian period and all the way through the Taisho, and some branches carry some impressive family legacies but otherwise live like normal or high-class common folk in modern-day. (I know one such Ojousama from a renamed Fujiwara branch; she’s a sweetheart and never brings it up herself but every time I hear other people say things about her family, I’m like, dang.) We can venture from Muzan’s likely expensive medical treatment, multiple marriages (meaning other clans sought to be connected with his family even by marrying their daughters to a sick man), and even preparation for cremation as a baby that he was of a very, very high status. 

Being the sick son of a prominent family may have warped his personality in multiple ways: first, he was probably already used to a culture of popularity equated political power. We see in Muzan’s dealings with humans in the Taisho period that he can be exceedingly charming to get what he wants (a psychopath trait, haha), so he was probably pretty aware of the complex ways of socialites in the court. But, even being aware of that, it probably frustrated him to no end that he was too sick to take part in the social pastimes where he’d gain clout. It’s also possible that he was a bit of a bargain husband for his wives’ families who were seeking to a make ties with his family, as they must not had been politically useful enough to be married off to other powerful matches. This may be some of why he was so ruthless to them, for he never saw them as useful to him in the first place. This probably got a bit worse once he became a demon. Now to be lewd, but he probably got more vigorous in his pursuit of more powerful lovers, and knew how to slay the women’s hearts as he liked (you know, popular Heian pastime, everybody had lots of lovers, it was the norm, though political marriages and legitimate children were still important). That new sense of power probably went to his head. But, ultimately, he must had been limited in clout since he couldn’t take part in any daytime activities, thereby limiting his access to more powerful spheres of influence. His reputation from having grown up sickly must had followed him too. It’s anyone’s guess how much affection his parents had for him and how happy they were about his health at first, and if and when they might had noticed his changes. He was a full-fledged adult by the time he turned into a demon, so who knows how closely they even associated with him. They likely had healthier children who they devoted more care and attention to, and invested more family resources in while assuming Muzan would probably die young.

Who knows what the final straw was in Muzan leaving court? Was it frustration at not being able to walk in daylight that made him flee to the Kanto area in pursuit of the blue spider lily (from near where the doctor lived) long before Kanto became politically affluent? Or was it the rumors at court about how he didn’t age, and that he was eating people?

Of note, a lot of the early legends of demons in Japanese culture take place in the Heian period.

In his book “Japanese History of Demon Slayers,” retired Shizuoka University professor Tetsuo Owada capitalized on the success of Kimetsu no Yaiba to dive into a lot of ties between the series and what it may pay homage to throughout Japanese history and culture. While this was published last September and a handful of his theories have been disproven by the second fanbook published last February, and while I think a lot of his theories are stretching a little too far to make strong connections, it’s still deeply, deeply interesting stuff. He goes into some specific comparisons of demons, like Minamoto-no-Raiko and his posse of four big bad warriors taking on the Tsuchigumo (giant spider demon) terrorizing the mountains north of Kyoto harkening to the case of Rui’s family (and, ding ding ding, this was the primary focus of the official Kabuki/Kimetsu crossover last November), as well as takes little questions left in canon and dives into them a bit deeper. One such question is, why were wisteria lethal to demons? According to Prof. Owada’s research, there is no historical basis for this. Some of the talk online is that: 1. Wisteria are in fact poisonous, and consuming too much of them would cause vomiting and diarrhea (though I’ve also seen people make jam out of them because of the fragrance, so, like???) 2. Beans are thrown around at Setsubun to ward off demons (like so, Feat. Muzan and Kimetsu Beans), and wisteria are of the bean family 3. Wisteria like sunlight, so perhaps like Nichirin, they soak up some of the sun’s properties that are lethal to demons 4. In the language of flowers (Hanakotoba), wisteria symbolize kindness, welcomeness, refusing to leave someone’s side, being drunk with love, being straightforward and truthful, not losing the humanity in one’s heart, thereby containing a lot of meaning contrary to the conduct of demons Interesting, but some of its kind of a stretch. While still finding it a stretch to apply it to wisteria being poisonous to demons, Prof. Owada goes on to say that since ancient times, while the wisteria has some negative connotations of how it was sometimes written with characters meaning “doesn’t heal” (不治) and growing downward with smaller and smaller flowers like symbolize the slow downfall of a family line, it conversely also carries positive connotations of longevity and flourishing family due to the fact that its vines grow upward.

Now, you might picked up at some point that the Japanese word for wisteria is “fuji.” Not to be confused with Mt. Fuji (that’s written differently), it IS the same fuji as in “Fujiwara”: 藤.

Prof. Owada goes on to explore the association with the use of Wisteria crests in Kimetsu no Yaiba, especially on the houses of supporters of the Demon Slayer Corp. His recurring thesis is that the pandemic is partly responsible for Kimetsu no Yaiba’s popularity since demon legends have long since had origins in epidemics, and he supposes the Wisteria crest has a protective effect on the houses, similar to a talisman used in a lot of real life rituals for warding off illness and then often displays in or on the entries of houses to protect the family every year (I have one such item gifted to me, it stays by my doorway, along with a couple sticks of charcoal (but the culture of charcoal is a post for some other day)). The talisman is in reference to a god of Hindu/Chinese origins being treated with hospitality by the So clan, so although other families perished in disaster/disease, he promised to always protect the So clan descendants, so the talisman says “Descendants of the So Clan” so that any household may try to claim that divine protection. The gratitude-exchange of hospitality and protection and sure sounds familiar! Prof. Owada isn’t done yet. While the crest design used in Kimetsu no Yaiba isn’t an actual family crest in in real life, there are lots and lots and lots of family crests that use a wisteria design and have the character for “wisteria” in the name. Any time you hear “—tou”, like Satou, Saitou, or even Gotou, you can typically assume it’s 藤. It’s very common nowadays, but the first family to be granted the use of this name was the Fujiwara clan, when one of the pre-Heian and very powerful emperors granted their clan head this surname, which was a major honor, and it marked the start of the Fujiwara clan’s political dominance (there was already influence leading up to this, but meh, we like clear-cut stuff to simply centuries of history, don’t we?). Furthermore, although we often think of the Fujiwara clan for their influence at court, and we might think of the Minamoto clan for warrior heroes who fought demons, Prof. Owada concludes his argument of wisteria’s protective influence by pointed out a long list of Heian period Fujiwara warriors who also were the heroes of demon slaying legends, stating that their name has also long been tied with demon slayer culture. SO!!! Let me go on with my theory here. Muzan is from the same family line as Ubuyashiki. At some point (I assume after Muzan is long gone from Kyoto), the family is told while their children keep dying, and they accept their mission to bring an end to Kibutsuji Muzan and clear this curse on their family line. My thought is that their ancestor was a full blood sibling of Muzan, one whom was more invested in than sickly Muzan. While perhaps already an off-shoot of the Fujiwara Clan and thereby not entitled to the same sorts of inheritance, they probably maintained close ties with them. But, as it was already not direct by that time, the other Fujiwara clan branches were not affected by this curse. To further spare the clan the effects of this curse, this was probably when that sickly branch took the name Ubuyashiki. (And yes, I have things to say about this name and its possible mythological origins which I find a highly, highly interesting connection. Prof. Owada supposes it is tied with Izumo Taisha Grand Shrine and that is why there are nine pillars, but as much as I love Izumo Taisha and its giant pillars I base my argument in separate Shinto (but also Izumo!) mythology and accept that there are not always supposed to be nine Pillars specifically and Gotouge simply chose that number based on the number of strokes in the kanji for ‘Hashira’ (柱) BUT I DIGRESS). So, the Ubuyashiki Clan is it’s own thing, but is sort of like a cousin to the other Fujiwara branches and thereby continues to enjoy Fujiwara support throughout the Heian period, like some of the Fujiwara warriors going out there and slaying some of Muzan’s early demon experiments, and using their influence to bring in other warriors to the demon slaying cause (pet

theory: Genpei War warrior Kumagai Naozane was a member of the proto-Corp and using Kasugai-garasu was in practice since at least late Heian period). While the Ubuyashiki Clan probably already their own inherited land (and funds that came from it), throughout their history, their cousin clans might also have provided financial support to the Ubuyashiki Clan. But, they probably distanced themselves from the clan due to the curse and not wanting to be tainted. When you bring back in the wisteria associations this puts the contrary associations with a flourishing and dying family line in a new light. Furthermore, the “not healing” way of writing “fuji” also means a lot more in the context of Muzan’s, and later the Ubuyashiki clan’s illness.

[felassan]

Gamers For Groceries 2 event

A Twitch stream event from a few days ago. It can currently be re-watched here (it was fun & interesting, so I do recommend to check it out direct). This post contains some notes on things of particular interest & relevant timestamps, in case this is useful to anyone (for example bc of accessibility reasons).

First up is the All About Animating panel, a series of mini-interviews with game devs (animators) asking what they do, how they got there, and advice for anyone interested in getting into the industry. Some or all of the devs that were interviewed are currently working on DA4. They talked a bit about their day-to-day work and a lot about the craft of game dev animation in general. This segment runs from timestamp ~38 mins 40 secs to 1:07:50. Some notes:

[sounded like DA4] Right now the creature team are working on different creatures in a way which involves going through a lot of mocap data

At BioWare they have a pretty big technical animation team, to support their animators, so each tech animator has a different specialty. Tech anim involves animation support, character art support, and rigging the characters so that the animators can pose them

[not sure if re: DA4 work specifically, another project or a general comment on the craft] One of the featured animators’ area of specialty at the moment is faces and hair (building the control structure for face animations). First they had to decide how the face rig and its control structure would work. This involves a lot of performance capture of live actors for things like cinematics and gameplay animation, therefore the rigs for bodies and faces have to be able to accurately capture the full range of expressions and emotions that the actor is portraying. Right now the stage that this dev is working on most is setting up the heads that they’re getting through the pipeline from character art e.g. making adjustments based on feedback from the cinematics team. “Polish - just trying to get realism”

Hair tech has come quite a long way in the last few years [in the industry]

[not sure if re: DA4 work specifically, another project or a general comment on the craft] Hair is very complex to get right. “In the past most games have used card-based hair, which is basically like sheets of polygons with a texture on it that looks like hair, through layers of transparency. But real hair is strand-based, digital strands, so we’re starting to look into that kind of tech - try to get more realistic, more beautiful hair, but there’s always a performance cost to hair. Layers of transparent things are always an expense, they need to balance like, it looks good and moves well, but it doesn’t make your computer or console chug. [...] I guess we’re in the prototype stage but we’ve almost got a set pipeline. It’s always fun to experiment”

In Mass Effect 2 or 3, Miranda’s hair was as expensive as a whole character (!)

[on balancing hair costs/performance, general] It depends on things like character importance and how many characters are on-screen at the time. When you’re in gameplay fighting a bunch of monsters you’re not going to be giving full beautiful hair to all the characters and the monsters, as it will cost too much. (Having a helmet on is a convenient way to get rid of hair.) But if it’s a cinematic scene, with 2 characters talking to each other in a dramatic context, there’s a better budget for nice hair allocated

Some of the hair in Anthem was quite expensive in cinematics. They kept getting bugs from QA saying (for example) that a character’s hair was tripling the performance cost in the scene, so it would go back to character art so they could take away some of the hair cards. “Tough balance, quality versus cost”

“I wish all the characters could have beautiful strand hair”

For p-cap, a lot of the time they don’t want to be too prescriptive in terms of the direction that they’re giving the actors, as the actors know what they’re doing and have a lot of experience, so they give them vague instructions that they then riff off of

[sounded like DA4] They recently did a mocap shoot

[sounded like DA4] There’s a bit more productivity happening now in the pandemic situation; now that the animators are not all going to the capture lab in Vancouver in person for shoots, if it’s not their turn to direct a shot they can instead be working on something else on their computers (multi-tasking). ((Lead DA4 Producer Scylla Costa recently gave a talk at a games festival on the challenges of DA production during the pandemic. In part of this talk he talked about various benefits and drawbacks to the remote-working situation. He also talked about and showed some behind-the-scenes stuff for p-cap and mocap. Notes, images and link here))

[sounded like DA4] Special mocap suits were sent out that they can use with a laptop to go anywhere and shoot motion capture. It’s not as high fidelity as what comes out of the capture lab, but it’s really good for prototyping stuff. Before the pandemic they did some of this (going to a park and shooting some running around)

[sounded like DA4] In one of the shoots they had some actors who were really well-trained in dancing. They were trying to get them to do some combat stuff. This was a bit challenging in the pandemic situation as there’s only so much they can demonstrate/portray as an example to the actors from a distance on camera. “It’s hard to describe what a ‘dodge to attack’ is through the camera to somebody who has no idea what combat looks like in video games”

[not sure if re: DA4 work specifically, another project or a general comment on the craft] The pandemic has really affected performance capture for the face side of things badly, as in order to record, the actor gets dots painted on their face in specific locations by a makeup artist. They can’t do that right now because of social distancing/restrictions, so they haven’t been recording faces at the moment

The more detailed a face, the more joints it has, the more the cost to performance is

---

There was also the Writers’ Block panel, featuring DA writers Mary Kirby, Sheryl Chee and Patrick Weekes, and DA editor Karin Weekes. The timestamps for this segment are ~2:37:50 - 3:26:20. Some notes:

PW has never been weirder than when they were writing Cole on DAI

PW thinks that they accidentally wrote part of “Timber” by Kesha into Solas at one point and they were like “Well, okay, I have to stop listening to Kesha”

For Sheryl, after a while Blackwall’s VA always nailed doing his lines. She loved the quality of his voice and so after a while would always hear his voice while she was writing. This really worked out

^ Mary had this with Merrill. As soon as they cast Eve Myles she listened to several hours of her in Torchwood, and then just wrote to the way that she spoke as much as possible

^ PW had this with GDL as Solas and FPJ as Bull. As soon as they heard FPJ’s delivery, they were like “Oh, okay, I have to write some lines differently, because Bull is smarter than I realized”. With GDL they were like “Okay, he’s going to put poetry into anything I say, in the best way possible”. In early drafts of Solas lines there were parts where they [PW] wondered “Is this too melodramatic? Is this too tragically-angstful?” and then they would hear GDL and be like “Oh! [It’s fine] Game on!”

For localization, German words are often quite long so they often have to make sure that everything fits on the GUI

They think scenes like the romance scenes sound prettier in the Italian versions

Behind the curtain in creating the in-world languages: PW: “There are some awesome websites that have every elven word, like ‘Here are the translations and verb tenses and conjugations’ [etc], [...] and usually Mary and I get very sad slightly looking at those pages going like ‘Does that mean that we have to stick to that?’ [...] The rule is, if I’ve looked at the Wiki and the words, and I go ‘Here’s the correct grammatical way to do it’, and if that turns out to be too long or too many disconnected syllables and it just looks bad or sounds bad, then we shorten it to something simpler, because the key is we want to give the flavor of a foreign language, but we don’t have the world-building budget and capacity to make something that is going to be dictionary-real [in a way that] someone could go through and translate all the background things written on the old temple walls”. Part of the reason for this is the consideration for VAs, who already have to act while bearing lots of things in mind, like the cues in the script for each line

Mary: “For building a language, the first things that I started with for qunlat, elven and dwarven, was what words do we need to use the most? Greetings, farewells, words for friend and enemy, basic things that will come up easily in conversation. After that it’s ‘How difficult is this for other writers to use?’ Can they just pick it off the Wiki? Do they need just one word? Do they need to write whole sentences, and how does that work? Qunlat has almost no grammar to it because asking anyone to learn how to use Qunari grammar and conjugate verbs in a pretend language is impossible, and then once you’ve done that a human being has to be able to read it, while not knowing what any of it means”

PW: “One thing that I was really impressed with with Mary in particular doing, Mary was one of the big lore people across the entire DA series; I can look at a word and go like, ‘That has two A’s in a row, that’s definitely a Qunari word. That word is kind of long and maybe has some apostrophes and has a couple of flowy vowel sounds, that’s probably elven’, I think that’s what’s important. You want players to be able to look at a word, players want to feel smart, [like] ‘Oh I don’t know what that means but I totally know that’s a word from the Qunari people!’”. Mary: “Every language has its own set of phonemes, the sounds that they make, and the sort of word structure and spelling so that it gives a flavor to that language. Hopefully that is always chosen to be pronounceable, because again, very important that the words can be said by human beings :D”

Sheryl: “One of the fun things to do is to make up swear words in the fake languages [...] Recently Brianne wanted a word, I don’t know if she managed to find one”

The origin of bosh’tet in ME: it’s just saying “bastard” and slurring it

PW: “I feel like there are times when past writers kind of leave traps for future writers, where past writers will go ‘Okay, I’m going to write this detailed phrase in a codex entry but don’t worry, it doesn’t matter if it can never be said aloud, because it’ll never have to be voiced!’ and then, next game, guess what guys! Look what you have to make someone [a VA] say! And you’re like [facepalm], c’mon!”

Karin: “Now, four games in, we have pages and pages of all these examples, and I wanna say this, well that’s how we said something before, well that’s ridiculous, I don’t wanna say that, but now we’ve said it and it’s out there, so it’s like, how do we, y’know, how do we evolve, and sometimes we just go ‘Screw it! Languages are living languages! We’ll just say it like this now!’”

PW's favorite is the sarcastic Mythal’enaste, “Because it’s the sarcastic Mythal's blessing that basically means you’re getting screwed over somehow. I love it because Mythal nasty! Whoever wrote that clearly never thought that someone would have to say this out loud”

Sheryl wrote Bull’s joke icicles line. She also wrote Isabela’s big boats line - Jennifer took it out but then DG was like “No it has to come back”

They have a pun test, they get a few of them and have to allot them wisely so as not to oversaturate on the puns. “Is this good/bad enough to be one of the times that we pull the trigger? We did have one of those recently, I obviously can’t talk about it, but it was pronounced Okay to go ahead”

The ‘baby-est’ writer is Brianne, who’s been there 8 years

It makes PW sad that the players never get to see the writers’ temp-text [placeholder text when portions are a WIP]. “People have the best temp-text". Mary: “The number of conversations that I’ve temped in like ‘WELL. I hope nothing BAD happens HERE’”

Q. If you could bring in anybody from outside of gamedev, who would you like to work with and do a writer’s session with? PW: “I will say romance novelist Nora Roberts, she is really smart and also she knows how to write inside a genre, and do wonders within it. Her structure is so good. If you pick up one of her books, you know here’s when this is gonna happen, here’s when they’re gonna meet, here’s when this first moment will happen. We’re all experienced and I feel pretty good about that but I really like all of the things she does that way, and also I am a sucker for romance so I would love to bring a romance novelist in and just have them look at our scenes and go ‘Okay here, no, they should pull the tie so that the article of clothing comes open, we need a sense of how warm the skin is here’ - something like that. I’d wanna see what they could do with that”

“Luke writes the best worst lines”

“I’m always impressed with Mary getting away with lines. There are lines that I look at like, wow, you buried that one. [...] The only players who get that line, I feel like they earned it if they went that far into it. [...] And then Varric or Merrill says a ridiculous line in a one-time throwaway”

Karin: “The group dynamic, you’ll see conversations or snippets of a lunch chat or a thing we’ve been joking about and you’ll see it get pulled in, and how all of you [the writers] are able to take a normal kind of thing - as normal as we get as a group anyway - and then turn it into a moment, and use it to further the plot or use it to further a character. It’s just the cleverest thing and it happens in so many different ways. [...] The little snippet of life, then how you crafted it into this very cool thing”

Quartermaster Threnn was written by PW in half a day. “When I was writing Threnn, ‘Okay, this is a good-hearted [person], I was doing a little bit of Steel Magnolias, southern, no-nonsense, but like, blue collar Steel Magnolias’. This is someone accustomed to the ways of the world so she’s going to call a spade a spade. If you come up to her and you’re an elf she doesn’t recognize you and says ‘Buckets are over there’ because she thinks you’re there to clean, [but] ‘Anyone calls you a knife-ear you come to me I’ll take care of it’. It’s problematic but she’s trying - the good-hearted person rooted for the wrong group on every occasion. She was a proud Loghain supporter, she gets really exited if he comes to Skyhold.  That was a fun character for me to write because I had a viewpoint in my mind. I remember someone was like ‘Threnn is really important to me’. And you have to honor that, cause you’re like ‘Cool, it means so much to me that this connected with some part of you’”

---

Also of interest was the Mass Affection panel, in which BioWare devs looked back in over a decade of history to remaster a classic. It featured devs who worked on MELE. The timestamps for this segment are ~3:36:09 - 4:24:37. Some notes:

When the pandemic hit the MELE team were in a relatively awkward spot. They were really entering into what they consider full production and were on-boarding a bunch of teams, as well as training and on-boarding third-party external partner specialized teams worldwide. When the pandemic hit, BioWare and EA were super on top of it. They were tracking it weeks beforehand, getting everyone their computers ready, and getting everything encrypted. When the middle of March 2020 hit they were home rightaway. EA were nothing but supportive throughout the entire thing. They got money every quarter for stuff. It functionally ‘hit’ at 4-6 different times for them as the pandemic occurred in different places throughout the world at different times depending on each country’s response plan (and their external partners were in different countries). “So it was one of those things where it was just like, every day we’d come in like can we still work with this company anymore? Do we need to find someone else? Do we need to pull people in off the other projects at BioWare to fill gaps here and there?”

There was a bug on Virmire at the part when you’re coming into the STG camp. If the Mako had its new boosters on and you came hurtling in really fast, it cut to the cutscene, but the Mako hit a jump and when Ash was like “What do we do now?” the Mako ended up literally flying around in the background sideways and then crashing into the camp

Another bug: when they were re-tuning the guns, the physics force on some of the guns with Hammerhead rounds was so high that when you were fighting some of the Thorian Creepers, you could ragdoll them so hard that you could basically embed them in the roof. They’d be moving so fast that they’d penetrate all the walls with their legs dangling out. It was so easy to do and you could do it to everybody. You could launch a geth halfway across an Uncharted World

Another bug: with Shepard’s casual appearance in ME3, if you didn’t have it set up perfectly correctly it would default to Grunt for some reason. You’d be walking around as Grunt, going on dates as Grunt, and your face would be all scrunched up because it was all mapped to human bones still, so it was just, like, Nightmare Fuel of Grunt

Another bug: in ME2 on Illium when trying to recruit Samara, the Asari enemies just would not stop screaming - regardless of whether they were hit or not, it was endless screaming. Later one of the devs got an audio file of the scream, endless and looped, and now one of the devs has it on their phone and uses it for their morning alarm tone

“Shepard would come up to characters and they’d just be screaming”

---

There was also the Programming Variables panel, talking about what hurdles game programmers face. Some [or all?] of the devs that were part of this panel are currently working on DA4. They talked a bit about their day-to-day work and about the craft of game dev programming in general. The timestamps for this segment are ~ 4:24:46 - 5:06:02.

[source]

[insights/notes from Gamers For Groceries 1]

[☕ found this post or blog interesting or useful? my ko-fi is here if you feel inclined. thank you 🙏]

[volturicangetit]

A.V/J.V- Loved at last

Summary: After getting rejected by your imprints, Emmett and Rosalie, you needed a fresh start. So you go to Italy where you meet two interesting vampires. Maybe they can show you what’s it’s like to be loved.

Reqeust: YES/no @rexburn12​  : Where Male Reader Was Banished From La Push For Imprinting On Emmett, and Rosalie They Reject Him Which Almost Kills Him, and Makes Reader Extremely Sad and Reader Moves To Volterra, Italy To Work As A Mechanic. Alec and Jane Smell A Amazing Scent They Follow It To See Their Mate Reader At Home Who Looks Sad Which Makes Them Growl in Anger and It Catches Reader's Attention He Looks At Them, and Imprints On Them Making Him Shocked. Since Imprinting Is A One Time Thing For Shifters.

Warnings: swearing, self hate

Wordcount: 3226

A/N: I’m turning 17 tomorrow ( may 19 )! I can’t really celebrate my birthday but at least I can celebrate it with my parents and siblings. Also I’m born on the same day as Jojo Siwa so that....nice?

PART TWO

MASTERLIST

Saying that you ' hate yourself ' can't even express the amount of disgust you feel towards yourself. You know that it's something you can't control, something that isn't a choice. But still feel like it's your fault that you imprinted on not one, but two vampires. You didn't even know that it was possible to imprint on something that died decades ago. The fact that they both rejected you didn't help. You knew that they wouldn't love you but you were hoping to at least be friends.

" You fucking what? " Rosalie screams at the top of her dead lungs. You flinch as she takes a step towards you, lowering your head. " They can't control it, " Carlisle tries to reason, but Rosalie and Emmett ignore him. You feel Emmet wrap his hands around you and lift you off the ground. Within a second you're outside of the house where he roughly pushes you onto the ground, right into the mud. You sit there on your hands and knees trying to regain yourself which is very fucking difficult when your covered in mud and getting soaked slowly by the rain pouring down on you. It was like the universe wanted you to suffer even more.

" Did you seriously think that we would accept you? You're a fucking dog. " Rosalie says as she and Emmet are standing on their porch. It's only now that you see the contrast between you all. They're standing dry in their expensive house while you're laying in the mud, which comforts you for some odd reason. You stand up quickly, pushes some of the rain of off your face.

" Please, you know I wouldn't have come here if I could just go without you. ". Your voice cracks at every word. You came here vulnerable and onto the land of your enemies. If Sam knows that you're here, he will rip your head off. Emmett shakes his head but doesn't say anything. He can't bring himself to do so. Sure, he wants to scream at you. To yell some words at you he knows he's going to regret but it's like his mind has shut off. Rosalie, on the other hand, can't stop the words from flowing out. " Go away, you disgusting thing. "

You let yourself slide down the side onto the floor of your shower. The water streaming down onto your already burning skin is way too hot, yet you don't care. You don't deserve nice warm showers. No, you deserve scolding hot showers that makes your skin feel like it's going to fall off. A sob breaks out of your body, causing your shoulder to rumble along with it. You tried so hard to stop yourself from crying. But now you let it all out. Every emotion, every pent up bit of anger, every sad thought. It all comes it whether you want it to or not. Whines and groans come out of your mouth along with the sobs. You know the other pack members can hear you, not just crying, but also through your mental bond. Their voices and questions of concern are being blocked out by you. The only thing you can hear if your own sobbing and a dull ringing in your ears.

You don't know how long you've sat in the shower, but you do know that you're going to have a ridiculously high water bill this month. When you get out of the shower and have gotten dressed in a simple pair of sweat pants and a sweater you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You stop in your track and stare at your own reflection. Your face seems foreign to you. Your normally gleeful eyes are now puffy and look so sickly that you might as well be dead. Your lips are broken from all the screaming and biting at them you've done. It looks weird to see yourself look so broken, but then again, it is said that rejection by your imprint is sometimes not even survived. " What's going on? ". You jump a little as you quickly turn around to see Paul standing behind you. He's leaning against the doorframe, glancing between you and the mirror. " Nothing, you lie. ".

" Oh, come one. We can hear your thoughts, remember? " he says as he taps his temple with his pointer finger. You nod, still looking down at the ground. When you remain quiet, Paul sighs and pulls you into a hug. You freeze at first. He never hugged you, or anyone for that matter. " Those bloodsuckers rejected you? ". You nod as you bury your face into his chest. You needed this. A hug, to help ground you and get you back to reality. " They don't deserve you, you know? ".

" I think I...I think I need to go away for a while, " you keep your voice soft while you speak to try and keep it from cracking. Paul nods before he lets his chin rest on top of your head. " How about Italy? The weather is a lot better there. I know some people there, " Paul suggests. You pull him closer to you. Italy. Nice, warm Italy. Away from Emmett and Rosalie, away from the pack. It will hurt like shit, but it's the best for you. A fresh start. A normal life. No vampires living right next door, no pack fights, no drama between Jacob, Bella and Edward. Just you and Italy. " Yeah, it sounds nice, "

---

Two months. Two months without cloudly Forks. It has done you good. Extremely good. You didn't realize how depressed that place made you until you left. The moment you felt the comforting Italian sun hit your skin was the moment you knew you made the right choice. You didn't talk to Paul's friends a lot. You got a place of your own after a couple of weeks, due to how small the town was everyone who was trying to sell their house was practically begging you to buy their house. You picked up your hobby of tinkering again, now using to be a mechanic though. The town needed one so you were happy to oblige. It was refreshing to have new faces around and a new environment. The sadness that once had its grip on your has disappeared, now only present in dark memories.

You pick up an apple that is laying on your kitchen table before making your way out of your house and towards your work. Not many costumers would come in, if at all. A festival is being celebrated in a nearby town. Naturally, almost everyone in the village has gone there to have a party. You didn't want to do that though, be around people and all. Plus this new free time would give you time to catch up with work and make some preparations for the next day. The walk to your work is short, yet you still enjoy it every day. Back in Forks, you hated the sound of the birds singing but here you enjoy it so much. The birds sing a different song here. One of joy instead of sadness.

" Buongiorno, " you say to your coworker as you walk into the store. Your Italian is far from perfect but it's getting better every day. " Come va? " your coworker, Piero, asks. " Bene. And you? ". He just nods at you with a smile before he resumes to fix what looks like a clock. You really couldn't tell though, most things that come to the store for fixing are broken beyond recognition. You sit down at your workspace and take in the mess that is laying before you. You need to clean that, definitely. You have enough time today to do so anyways

Going for a stroll through the city isn't something the twins would normally do but today was an exception. A sudden rainstorm has been hovering over the area, blocking out the sun and allowing them to go outside without fear. That and the fact that most inhabitants of San Cipriano were now in Volterra for the festival. They dressed down, replacing their usual robes with a dress in Jane's case and jeans and a sweater for Alec. They talked about normal things like the new store that just opened up down the block and books they've read. It feels nice to them to feel so normal. Anyone who saw them would think that they are just a brother and sister enjoying the cool afternoon weather and not two vampires who work for the three kings.

" They have this machine that can induce dreams, " Alec says as he tries to explain the plot of ' Inception ' to Jane. She nods as she only half listens to his story, more focussed on watching a group of children play hide and seek on the other side of the road. The two siblings are sitting on a bench right next to the cemetery, ironically enough. " Sounds fascinating, " Janes says.

Alec nods before resuming his explanation. Jane enjoys seeing her brother so happy. They were both way too serious for their age, not having enjoyed their childhood years as they should have. Seeing him so passionate and happy about something surely put a smile on her face. Alec stops his words however when a sudden gust of winds blows a particularly sweet smell towards them. Both siblings look at each other as they inhale the scent. " Apple, " Jane says

" And rust. Delicious, " Alec adds. Jane slowly points towards the direction of your store. Alec nods and stands up from the bench, getting what his sister means. Both twins slowly stroll to your shop, they want to see who this scent is coming from but at the same time are to content to feel any sort of rush.

The sound of a bell ringing notifies you that someone entered the shop. " Un momento! " you call out from the back of the shop. You quickly wipe the oil that has been building up of your hands with a cloth before making your way to the front of the store to help the new costumers out. The moment you lay your eyes on the twins is when the world stops. You'd be lying to say that they aren't beautiful. Every birthmark on their skins seems so perfect that it has had to be placed there by the angels themselves. A sudden rush of adrenaline fills your body. Every detail about them become highlighted. You know this feeling, you know what this means. You didn't think you could imprint again but here you are, imprinting on the twins. Apparently, your wolf seems to have a preference for imprinting on duos. " I...I...Can I.... ". Your mind can't seem to form words at the moment. It's too busy with taking the twins in, to memorise every single thing about them.

The moment your mind starts to get clearer, you can start to smell them. The dry, campfire-like smell that comes of them suddenly starts to make sense. Vampire. Of course, you had to imprint on vampires again. Jane and Alec also caught the hint of dog and forest in your scent, both realizing that they're in deep shit now. They know you're their mate, they didn't need to notify the other on it. The way they both feel this need to protect you and the way your scent has intoxicated them both said enough. " You're our mate, " Jane says softly. Her usually cold and stern voice now sounds honey sweet.

The realisation of the whole situation only seems to be catching up to you now. The whole two months you spent here, trying to rebuild your life and your mental health seems to be for nothing now. They will reject you. Those words seem to float around your head. You shake your head softly, feeling tears pricking up into your eyes. You take a couple of steps back and away from them. " I-I'm sorry. I can't. Not now, " you say before disappearing into the back of the shop and leaving the confused twins behind in the shop.

You can feel your wolf aching under your skin, begging to be let out. You rush out of the store through the backdoor. You chose your place of work strategically, right next to the forest, which you are very thankful for right now. You let your walls down and let the wolf in you come forth. The ache under your skin stops as your shift begins. Within seconds you're in your wolf form. Tall and frightening for most you stand there for a second, looking back at the store before making a run for it and into the forest. You sit there in your own mind, drowning in your own thoughts as the wolf takes control of your body. Normally, you would try to at least have a sliver of self-control, not now, however. Now you want nothing more than to get lost into the woods.

It doesn't feel like your in your own body, it feels like your floating above it. Memories is all your seeing. Rosalie and Emmett screaming at you. The disgusted looks in their eyes and the harsh words them threw at you without a second thought. They'll do the same. You're sure of it. How could a vampire ever love you? How could someone ever love you?

---

Wet grass brushes against your cheek. The prominent smell of dirt and daisies fills your nose. Slowly, you open your eyes. You're laying on your back, which you only realize now. You stare up at the dark sky above you. The sun is long gone. Now it's replaced by the moon and a thousand stars. It must be later than three a.m. Maybe even later. You should probably move and get inside before you catch a cold but you can't bring yourself to do so. You're to mentally and physically drained from your shift earlier this evening. After regaining yourself, you finally find the strength to get up from the grass. Every bone in your body aches as you stand up for the first time in hours. You stretch a little, getting used to your human form again. Slowly but surely you walk to your front door. The warmth that meets you the moment you open your door falls over you like a blanket. Sudden tiredness washes over you. You let out a jawn as you walk over to your living room, reading to crash on your couch.

Instead of an empty couch, you find two vampires sitting on it, the same there were in the shop earlier. " What are you doing on my house? " you ask. Your body fills with adrenaline again. A warm fuzz fills your brain now that you're around your imprints. " I'm Jane, ". You nod at her statement.

" Cool, and I'm very fucking confused about why you're in my house. ". Both twins laugh a little at your joke. " You got humour in you, alright. " Alec says. You nod, slowly walking a little more towards them. You hate that you're so drawn to them. They like us. You stop in your steps. Why could you hear Jane's thoughts? Is this another part of this weird vampire-imprint thing?

" I'm sure that you have some question, " Alec begins. You cut him off before he can finish his sentence thought. " Yeah like why two members of the Volturi are in my house. ". Both look at you with big eyes, confused as to how you know them. You throw your arms up in the air. " Oh come one, I lived in the same town as the Cullens! You guys came over like every other weekend for Bella and Edward! ".

You sit down on your couch. Letting your elbows rest on your knees so your hands can hold your head up. You let out a deep sigh. Why did this kind of shit always happen to you? " Look, I know you won't want me and that's fine. Just break the news to me, we don't have to tiptoe around it, " you say, just trying to get them to get to the point. Alec's hand is suddenly underneath your chin. He angles your head in a way so that you're looking up at him. " You think we don't want you? ". You nod.

" No, don't ever think that, " Jane says as she sits down beside you. " It's maybe a bit...unusual to have a wolf as a mate but we definitely want you. If you want us. ". You can't help the small smile from spreading onto your face. They want you. They didn't reject you or call you a dog. " Of course I want you, have you seen yourself? You're both hot. ". The twins send each other a smile. Jane gets up from the couch and stands in front of you next to Alec. She holds her hand out for you to grab. " Come home with us. ". You nod at her before grabbing her hand. Finally, you can go to a home where you're loved.

---

The ringing of the phone seems to go on so long that you're afraid you're calling won't be picked up. You wanted to call home, to tell them how well you're doing. You just hope that someone will pick up. Finally, the call gets picked up. " Hello? " Seth says on the other side of the line. " Seth! " you call out happily. The annoyance in his voice is gone in an instant and replaced by happiness. " Y/n! You called! How are you? ".

" Better than ever, " you say happily, glancing over at Jane and Alec who is standing on the other side of the room talking to Demitri and Felix. You know that they are probably listing along to your call but you don't care. " I'm really good. I um...I imprinted again. ". You wait anxiously for Seth's response. " Really? That's great! Who is it? ".

You and Seth continue to talk for another thirty minutes. Back home things are going great for him and the pack as well. Apparently, Emmett and Rosalie are really sorry but you couldn't care less about them. Not now that you have Jane and Alec. " It was nice to talk to you again. Give my greetings to the rest, yeah? Bye-bye. ". You hang up the call. Within a second, Jane and Alec are standing next to you, both giving you a questioning look.

" He's happy for me. Really happy, " you say with a bright smile on your face. Alec grabs your hand and gives you a kiss on top of your knuckles. " See, I know he would be. ". You nod at his comment. You stand there for a moment before pulling both the twins in for a hug. They wrap their arms around you. Sure, it's a little awkward to hug with three people, but it's comforting at the same time. You take in their scent. At first, you hated the smell of vampire but now it smells like home. You feel happy, truly and utterly happy. Maybe someone could love you after all.

TWILIGHT TAGLIST:

@scuzmunkie​ @thanossexual​ @prettyinblack231​

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 6: WE HAVE BATHROOM INCIDENT

We passed the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudged each other. One pointed to the minotaur horn Percy was carrying. Another said, "That's him."

Anxious if all the attention, I scooted closer to Percy holding onto his arm. Most of the campers were older than us. Their satyr friends were bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts, with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. The way they stared at me made me uncomfortable. Though I am aware the attention was on Percy. I still felt like they were expecting me to do a flip or something.

I looked back at the farmhouse. It was a lot bigger than I'd realized—four stories tall, sky blue with white trim, like an upscale seaside resort. I was checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when something caught my eye, a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second, and I got the distinct impression I was being watched.

"What's up there?" Percy asked Chiron.

He looked where I was pointing, and his smile faded. "Just the attic."

"Somebody lives there?"

"No," he said with finality. "Not a single living thing."

I got the feeling he was being truthful. But I was also sure something had moved that curtain.

"Come along, you two," Chiron said, his lighthearted tone now a little forced. "Lots to see."

We walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.. . . . . . . . . .

Chiron told me the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus. "It pays our expenses," he explained. "And the strawberries take almost no effort."

He said Mr. D had this effect on fruit-bearing plants: they just went crazy when he was around. It worked best with wine grapes, but Mr. D was restricted from growing those, so they grew strawberries instead.

I watched the satyr playing his pipe. His music was causing lines of bugs to leave the strawberry patch in every direction, like refugees fleeing a fire. I wondered if Grover could work that kind of magic with music. I wondered if he was still inside the farmhouse, getting chewed out by Mr. D.

"Grover won't get in too much trouble, will he?" I asked Chiron.

"Yeah, I mean... he was a good protector. Really." Percy added.

Chiron sighed. He shed his tweed jacket and draped it over his horses back like a saddle. "Grover has big dreams, Percy. Perhaps bigger than are reasonable. To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper and bringing him safely to Half-Blood Hill."

"But he did that! He brought two!"

"I might agree with you," Chiron said. "But it is not my place to judge. Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must decide. I'm afraid they might not see this assignment as a success. After all, Grover lost you in New York. Then there's the unfortunate... ah... fate of your mother and Y/N's parents. And the fact that Grover was unconscious when you two dragged him over the property line. The council might question whether this shows any courage on Grover's part."

"He'll get a second chance, won't he?"

Chiron winced. "I'm afraid that was Grover's second chance, Percy. The council was not anxious to give him another, either, after what happened the first time, five years ago. Olympus knows, I advised him to wait longer before trying again. He's still so small for his age... ."

"How old is he?"

"Oh, twenty-eight."

"What! And he's in sixth grade?"

"Satyrs mature half as fast as humans, Percy. Grover has been the equivalent of a middle school student for the past six years."

"That's horrible."

"Quite," Chiron agreed. "At any rate, Grover is a late bloomer, even by satyr standards, and not yet very accomplished at woodland magic. Alas, he was anxious to pursue his dream. Perhaps now he will find some other career... ."

"That's not fair," I said. "What happened the first time? Was it really so bad?"

Chiron looked away quickly. "Let's move along, shall we?"

But I wasn't quite ready to let the subject drop. Something had occurred to me when Chiron talked about Percy's and I's parents' fate, as if he were intentionally avoiding the word death.

"Chiron," Percy said. "If the gods and Olympus and all that are real..."

"Yes, child?"

"Does that mean the Underworld is real, too?"

Chiron's expression darkened.

"Yes, child." He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "There is a place where spirits go after death. But for now... until we know more... I would urge you to put that out of your mind."

"What do you mean, 'until we know more'?"

"Come, Percy. Let's see the woods.". . ..

As we got closer, I realized how huge the forest was. It took up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans.

Chiron said, "The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed."

"Stocked with what?" Percy asked. "Armed with what?"

"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own sword and shield?"

"My own—?"

"No," Chiron said. "I don't suppose either of you do. I think a size five will do you both. I'll visit the armory later."

I wanted to ask what kind of summer camp had an armory, but there was too much else to think about, so the tour continued. We saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables (which Chiron didn't seem to like very much), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater, and the arena where Chiron said they held sword and spear fights.

"Sword and spear fights?" I asked.

"Cabin challenges and all that," he explained. "Not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall."

Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.

"What do you do when it rains?" Percy asked.

Chiron looked at me as if I'd gone a little weird. "We still have to eat, don't we?"

Finally, he showed me the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. And they were without doubt the most bizarre collection of buildings I'd ever seen.

Except for the fact that each had a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), they looked absolutely nothing alike. Number nine had smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number four had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seemed to be made of solid gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. They all faced a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops (which were more my speed).

In the center of the field was a huge stone-lined firepit. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the hearth smoldered. A girl about nine years old was tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick.

The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, looked like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmered like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seemed to streak across them. Cabin two was more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.

"Zeus and Hera?" I guessed.

"Correct," Chiron said.

"Their cabins look empty."

"Several of the cabins are. That's true. No one ever stays in one or two."

Okay. So each cabin had a different god, like a mascot. Twelve cabins for the twelve Olympians. But why would some be empty?

I stopped when Percy stopped.

"Percy?"

He stood in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.

It wasn't high and mighty like cabin one, but long and low and solid. The outer walls were of rough gray stone studded with pieces of seashell and coral, as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor.

I held his hand and we got closer to the cabin. We peeked inside the open doorway and Chiron said, "Oh, I wouldn't do that!"

Before he could pull us back, I caught a glimpse of the interior walls glowed like abalone. There were six empty bunk beds with silk sheets turned down. But there was no sign anyone had ever slept there. "Come along, you two."

Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.

Number five was bright red—a real nasty paint job, as if the color had been splashed on with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar's head hung over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to follow me. Inside I could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, both girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirt under a camouflage jacket. She zeroed in on me and gave me an evil sneer. She reminded me of Nancy Bobofit, though the camper girl was much bigger and tougher looking, and her hair was long and stringy, and brown instead of red.

I kept walking, trying to stay as close as I could to Percy. "We haven't seen any other centaurs," Percy observed.

"No," said Chiron sadly. "My kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk, I'm afraid. You might encounter them in the wilderness, or at major sporting events. But you won't see any here."

"You said your name was Chiron. Are you really..."

He smiled down at me. "The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules and all that? Yes, Percy, I am."

"But, shouldn't you be dead?"

Chiron paused, as if the question intrigued him. "I honestly don't know about should be. The truth is, I can't be dead. You see, eons ago the gods granted my wish. I could continue the work I loved. I could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity needed me. I gained much from that wish... and I gave up much. But I'm still here, so I can only assume I'm still needed."

I thought about being a teacher for three thousand years. It wouldn't have made my Top Ten Things to Wish For list.

"Doesn't it ever get boring?"

"No, no," he said. "Horribly depressing, at times, but never boring."

"Why depressing?"

Chiron seemed to turn hard of hearing again.

"Oh, look," he said. "Annabeth is waiting for us."

* * *

The blond girl I'd met at the Big House was reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven.

When we reached her, she looked us critically.

I tried to see what she was reading, but I couldn't make out the title. I thought my dyslexia was acting up. Then I realized the title wasn't even English. The letters looked Greek to me. I mean, literally Greek. There were pictures of temples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an architecture book.

"Annabeth," Chiron said, "I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy and Y/N from here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Cabin eleven," Chiron told me, gesturing toward the doorway. "Make yourself at home."

Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. The threshold was worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway was one of those doctor's symbols, a winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it. What did they call it... ? A caduceus.

Inside, it was packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread all over on the floor. It looked like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.

Chiron didn't go in. The door was too low for him. But when the campers saw him they all stood and bowed respectfully.

"Well, then," Chiron said. "Good luck, Percy, Y/N. I'll see you at dinner."

He galloped away toward the archery range.

I stood in the doorway, looking at the kids. They weren't bowing anymore. They were staring at us. I knew this routine. I'd gone through it at enough schools.

"Well?" Annabeth prompted. "Go on."

So naturally Percy tripped coming in the door and made a total fool of himself, almost taking me with him but I had let go of him as he fell. There were some snickers from the campers, but none of them said anything.

Annabeth announced, "Percy Jackson, Y/N L/N, meet cabin eleven."

"Regular or undetermined?" somebody familiar asked.

I didn't know what to say, but Annabeth said, "Undetermined."

Everybody groaned.

"Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy and Y/N. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there. Y/N can have the bed over there."

"Luke." I smiled. He replied with a grin and ruffled my hair.

"Uh?"

"This is Luke," Annabeth said, and her voice sounded different somehow. I glanced over and could've sworn she was blushing. She saw me looking, and her expression hardened again. "He's your counselor for now."

"For now?" Percy asked.

"You're undetermined," Luke explained patiently. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers."

I looked at the tiny section of floor they'd given Percy. He was a few spots away from mine.

I looked around at the campers' faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, some eyeing me as if they were waiting for a chance to pick my pockets.

"How long will we be here?" Percy asked.

"Good question," Luke said. "Until you're determined."

"How long will that take?"

The campers all laughed.

"Come on," Annabeth told us. "I'll show you the volleyball court."

"I've already seen it."

"Come on." She grabbed Percy's wrist and dragged him outside. Percy took my hand to come with him, I could hear the kids of cabin eleven laughing behind us.

"See you at dinner." Luke waved.

When we were a few feet away, Annabeth said, "Jackson, you have to do better than that."

"What?"

She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, "I can't believe I thought you were the one. Maybe it was Y/N."

"What's your problem?" Percy was getting angry now. "All I know is, I kill some bull guy—"

I gripped his shoulder trying to calm him.

"Don't talk like that!" Annabeth told me. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"

"To get killed?"

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Hahah typo and originality go brrr

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000

[pradaksj]

7 Rings | 02

♛ pairing: taehyung/reader

♛ genre: richboy!taehyung | blackmailer!reader | infiltration au | future smut | angst.

♛ rating: mature

♛ word count: 9,990+

♛ warnings for this chapter : explicit language, usage of alcohol (legal)

♛ (please read) author’s note: This chapter basically goes back in time to the day in which Y/N finds out about her mother, but instead we now get a glimpse of tae’s life so there is not much y/n in this chapter !! Just to let y’all know so you don’t get confused :)

♛ summary: In desperate need of money, you and your best friend come up with a plan to infiltrate one of Seoul’s richest families, the Kim family. The plan was simple, garner some money and disappear, but of course things don’t always go as planned. Especially not with someone like Kim Taehyung.

━ ❝ Whoever said money can't solve your problems, must not have had enough money to solve 'em.❞

♛ chapter index/masterlist || series masterlist

Chapters⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08

Friday Morning.

“In today’s news, the Kim family’s multibillion dollar deal has been officially confirmed. Their partnership with Hyundai is estimated to bring in at least seven billion in revenue to Korea’s economy over the next 5 years. Both parties have agreed to terms that will lift…”

Kim Taehyung stared at the coffee shop’s mounted TV as he waited in line to order, feeling as if it was already too early to be stressed out. The weary feeling of 4 hours of sleep was beginning to manifest itself, irritation slowly beginning to take its form. Honestly, it was a feeling he found himself feeling quite often these days. In a few years, the responsibility of a billion dollar empire would be under his hands, something he wasn’t exactly looking forward to. The images of his dad shaking hands with Hyundai’s CEO appearing on the TV, the man was basically hailed a hero. Taehyung’s eyes narrowed at the sight.

One could say his relationship with his father was not only distant but … complicated. As Taehyung grew up watching his dad’s empire become almost unstoppable, it also meant that he was always away from home. Though for the most part, Taehyung didn’t mind. His mother was everything a child could ask for, compassionate, hard-working, and never failing to provide her almost endless unconditional love for the young boy.

When he was younger though, his father seemed like an unattainable hero, an inspiration, and at some point it was a relationship he longed for. He often felt guilty whenever he’d hear kids in his school mention not having a father figure in their lives, either due to tragedy or other unspecified reasons. He was lucky enough to have his father in his life … so then why didn’t it ever feel like it ? Not like he had a right to complain.

Without his father he wouldn’t have grown up in the world of luxuries as he was fortunately able to. You see, there was a reason why Kim Enterprises was plastered all over Seoul (if not all of Korea), and that was because they were the IT company. A multi-conglomerate holding company who owned stakes in almost every major company from South Korea that you could possibly think of. Their rise in power was truly undeniable.

The company had been founded just a couple of years before Taehyung had been born, originally starting off as an insurance company which had done small investments in prospect companies, slowly rising in their investment and stakeholder shares. At least that was the story Taehyung’s father told him growing up, never failing to remind him that he came from nothing, and for that reason Taehyung should be nothing but grateful, stating that because of him he’d never know what it was like to feel the stigma of being poor in his own home and the powerlessness that comes with it. And you see Taehyung had absolutely no problem with that because well… it was true, and there was no denying that. What bothered him though, was that those speeches never seemed to come out of a place of genuinity, but one of animosity. As if to remind Taehyung that without his father he was, is, and would’ve been nothing.

To a certain extent he respected his father, but he didn’t love him. There was no genuine relationship there, and he knows it may sound horrible to say, but Taehyung most definitely had his reasons. But some things were just simply better left unsaid.

“Hello? Next in line,” a voice (an annoyed one at that) interrupted his thoughts, as he failed to realize that the cashier had been calling out for him for who knows how long. Though he didn’t take her harsh attitude to heart, if anything sympathizing with her and what he assumed was a stressful job, and it wasn’t like he was making it any easier by being a slow-poke.

“Welcome to Seoul’s Magnificent Mocha, what can I get for you this morning?” she asked once he had made his way up front to the cashier counter. Taking off his sunglasses, he couldn’t but want to laugh at how quick her facial expression had changed. It was the face that people made when they recognized him. It was amazing what a simple baseball cap and some shades could do, he hadn’t even worn his black face mask this time. “Y-You—” she began to stutter her words, instead slowly pointing at the TV. He gave her a small smile along with a small nod as a way of confirming what she was trying to say.

“That would be me,” he smiled, “Can I get an iced Americano and um a,” he paused trying to remember what Namjoon had wanted, “strawberry iced tea. Both medium please,” he finished off the order clearly sounding very uncertain.

“It’s g-going to b-be um,” the poor girl was so nervous she couldn’t even tell him his total without stuttering, “15,000 Won,” He proceeded in handing her a 50,000 note.

“You can keep the change,” he winked at her before putting his sunglasses back on and politely dismissing himself towards the waiting area, quietly laughing at how quickly she facepalmed herself when he was out of her line of sight.

Taehyung always did have a special charm on people, plus he was good looking, and he knew it. He didn’t have any special talents, nothing he could actually proudly boast about. It would be dense of him not to acknowledge that the only reason he was so famous was because of both his status and looks.

There were many people who swooned over him such as the cashier, but there were also many who believed he was still the same old spoiled brat who was nothing but a troublemaker from four years ago. It didn’t help that gossip blogs were still using the same clips from years ago when he really was nothing but a troublemaker who liked flashing his expensive cars for the paparazzi, and purposely kept a high profile. He had been naive, nothing but an eighteen year old teenager who thought fame was better than anything else in the entire world. Four years later, now at the age of twenty-two, and he had long learned that fame was horrible. But he had changed and that’s all that mattered, right? A complete 180, if you will.

Those people didn’t know him, so what made them think they had the right to judge him? To act as if they’d do things any better if they were in his position. The only Kim Taehyung they ever knew was the one they’d seen through a screen. He remembered the first time his name had made its way on the headline of gossip blogs and the comments that came with it.

[Kim Taehyung, son of Kim Jeong  spotted out having a wild night out in Hongdae. Pictures leaked from last night with some steamy footage. Click here for more.]  

[+3,623,  -59] he better pray he doesn’t catch any STD’s while he’s at it ㅋㅋㅋ wouldn’t be surprised if he already has some

[+3,100, -100] i feel bad for his dad, he expects someone like this to run the fortune he’s worked so hard for??? he’s so young as well…

[+2,547, -57] leave him alone and respect his privacy

[+2,100, -23] ah he’s so cute!! whoever was dancing with him is one lucky lady!

[+1,022, -34] a brat like that doesn’t deserve the things he has

That night had only been the beginning to years of nothing but front covering gossip magazines and having his privacy invaded on a daily basis. People became invested in what he was doing with his personal life, his friends, who he was seeing, what he was wearing, and anything else you could possibly think of. He often wondered why, but he assumed it was the same reason as to why people continue to give someone like Kim Kardashian attention despite claiming to hate her. Because people want a glimpse of a world that isn’t their own, simply fascinated by the rich. That and their obsession for scandal only adds fuel to the fire.

With fame came pressure though, pressure to uphold an image for the family company, one his father fairly cared about these days. Hell, nowadays his dad gave him more attention than he ever did as a child, all because he knew that Taehyung was and is the future for Kim Enterprises. It was his father’s pressure that led to his current relationship with— ah speak of the devil.

[From: Sunhi]

[9:10AM] I know you see my texts.

[9:11AM] why are you ignoring me???

[9:12AM] hello???

“Taehyung! Your Iced Americano and strawberry iced tea is ready!” Taehyung rolled his eyes as he glanced through the several number of text messages, instead locking his phone and going up to grab the drinks.

Sunhi was the granddaughter of Hyundai’s CEO and had long been in the picture as early as Taehyung could remember. The two went to the same middle and high school, a one sided crush on her side forming at some point. It wasn’t until about a year ago after returning, that his father had basically forced him to take her out on a date citing that it was in his words, “good for business”. And well today the “good for business” approach had its results, the confirmation of a multibillion dollar deal.

The media loved the two together, hell, they were even labelled as Seoul's next generation’s power couple. Their names amassing a fortune worth billions behind them, their good looks garnering both of them ambassador deals, all in the meanwhile social media was the backbone of the phenomenon that was their so called “relationship”. Not that Taehyung considered it much of one, in his opinion it had stopped being an actual relationship a long time ago.

It wasn’t that Taehyung hated Sunhi, in fact in the beginning of their relationship he was smitten for her, but it wasn’t long until the spark burned out. “Wasn’t long” meaning a couple of weeks in and she actually turned out to be the real definition of a brat, the actual real-life manifestation of Blair Waldorf. Constant up and downs with her had quickly worn him out, and the constant badgering from the media only made things worse. But that doesn't mean he hated her, in order for him to hate her he’d actually have to care about her, and well in all honesty…  he didn’t.

Sometimes he’d ask himself why he was still with her considering the deal had long been confirmed even before today. Taehyung had been free to do what he’d like for a long time, meaning there had never been a need for him to have kept this going for so long, he just did. One must ask, why?

Maybe it was because he knew she was the safest option, the person everyone expected and wanted him to be with. Breaking up with her right now would only further his stress, something he definitely didn’t need more of. Plus she knew him from the surface, and he knew her from the surface, and maybe that was just enough. He didn’t need, or want, anything more than that from her or anyone else for that matter. Sunhi was just enough.

It wasn’t like she was using him for anything, especially considering she already has everything. But by being with her, he was satisfying others, he was becoming the person everyone wanted him to be, the person he always should’ve been.

Hell, who knows, maybe he could truly fall in love with her one day … though in the back of his mind he knew the answer to that.

“Took you long enough,” Namjoon complained as he turned on the ignition of the car. He glanced at the drinks in Taehyung's hands, dramatically sighing at the sight, “and you somehow still ended up ordering the wrong drink for me,” he sighed, grabbing the drink from Taehyung’s hands nonetheless.

“My bad, I had forgotten in the moment…” he shot an apologetic smile towards his newly dyed platinum-haired friend.

Namjoon was the son of another one of Seoul’s elite, but also Taehyung’s right hand man. The two had met during their freshman year of high school, but funnily enough the two originally hated one another. Now looking back at it, Taehyung could admit that the two had acted extremely childish over a girl who’d end up picking neither of them, but that was a story to tell for another day.

Luckily Namjoon seemed to enjoy the drink, no longer complaining about it during the ride to Lotte World Mall. The two needed to go buy some new suits for tonight's event in celebration of the brand new deal between Kim Enterprises and Hyundai. The paparazzi were definitely going to be there and with all eyes on him, Taehyung decided that he might as well look good.

Friday Evening.

By the time Taehyung had returned to his place, he was both drained and exhausted, the idea of taking a nap and ditching the event seeming all too tempting. Namjoon this morning had felt the need to visit almost every high end store he could think of and try on the most useless things including scarves, gloves, and a whole bunch of other things. Basically going back and forth all across the mall whenever he’d regret not buying something.

He carried his bags upstairs to his room, ready to plop onto his bed and take a well deserved nap, but of course as always the universe seemed to work against him.

“I’ve been waiting for you!” he silently cursed to himself, asking himself why he thought it was a good idea to give Sunhi access to his penthouse. “Of course you went shopping without me, and to think I wanted to color coordinate,” she puckered her lips attempting to give him a small kiss on the lips, but before she could Taehyung had turned his cheek causing her to almost entirely miss.

She quickly composed herself acting as if that didn’t just happen, instead beginning to rummage through his bags, complimenting the things he chose while he just laid in bed slowly taking in deep breaths trying not to snap at her for coming unannounced. “So what exactly is that you came here for Sunhi…” he mumbled, failing to hide his annoyance.

She pouted, “Well you weren’t answering my texts, and I wanted to know whether you’d be going tonight…” she began to give him small pecks on his face, hoping that he’d show some kind of affection.

“I am, I am. I’m just really tired right now and in desperate need of a nap,” he responded, ignoring her obvious attempts to initiate things. His eyelids were half way closed, clearly ready to knock out at any second.

“Oh well I’ll just stay—”

“No, no. Just go back home, get ready, and I’ll see you over there okay?” his voice was much harsher this time, turning to face the other direction of his bed which was no longer facing her, a cold gesture on his part.

Sunhi sat there for a moment, feeling a mixture of both anger and disappointment. She wanted to say something, but instead crossed her arms, and let out a huff of air in response. Taking one last look at him before getting up from his bed and walking herself out. The same old feeling of being unwanted creeping into her mind, a feeling she knew all too well.

Friday Night.

By the time he had arrived, Taehyung thought that the paparazzi would’ve grown impatient waiting for him and end up leaving, but as per usual he was completely wrong. If anything, him being late had only caused them to triple in numbers. Those men really had no shame, their camera flashes penetrating through the Mercedes Benz’s tinted windows.

“You let me know when you’re ready Mr. Kim,” his security guard said. Taehyung took a deep breath, fixing his YSL brooch before nodding to him, letting him know that he was ready. He was quickly greeted with a stammering number of questions.

“Where’s Sunhi?”

“Over here! Over here!”

“How’s your night been?”

Taehyung tried to not make any faces, knowing that even the slightest lift of the brow would be taken out of context, and that by tomorrow morning there’d be a whole bunch of rumors trending on Twitter. The only thing was that the paparazzi always knew how to push his buttons whether it was shouting something rude, roughly grabbing at him, and etc. 

At this point he just needed a drink to relax and take his mind off of these low life men who had nothing else better to do than to try and make a quick buck off his name.

“Finally! Took you long enough,” he heard, quickly spotting Namjoon the moment he entered the venue, wondering if he had been waiting up front for him the whole time.

“You didn’t have to wait for me you know? And plus it’s not my fault you had me running circles around the mall,” Taehyung said causing Namjoon to scoff in response, “Has he given his speech?” the “he” Taehyung was referring to was his father.

“I honestly don’t know,” Namjoon shrugged, who like Taehyung, never did like these kinds of events as they always had him wanting to knock out halfway through, the only thing he really did appreciate was the food they served. 

The two walked towards the bar which caught their attention much more than the cathedral-inspired venue, deciding that a drink was necessary to kick the night off right.

“Two gin and tonics please,” the bartender nodded, beginning to prepare their drinks. Taehyung watched the bartender pour gin into his jigger, curious as to how someone could memorize the recipes for so many drinks. “How many years does it take for one to learn the ways of bartending?” he asked the brown-haired man, an attempt to strike conversation.

“Ah well a simple gin and tonic is something every bartender should know like it’s the back of their hand,” the man chuckled, “but if you’re talking about something like hmm,” he paused for a moment, “something like a bloody mary perhaps.”

A bloody mary? Isn’t that just vodka with some tomato juice?

“It’s much more than that,” the bartender laughed at Taehyung who was slightly taken aback, not realizing that he must’ve said what he was thinking aloud. “Though those are the two the main ingredients, it includes salt, pepper, hot sauce, garlic, herbs,” Taehyung was now genuinely curious as to where the bartender was going with this, “It covers the entire range of the human palate from sweet, salty, sour, unami, and savory but you have to make sure it doesn’t taste bitter.”

He continued talking as he poured the tonic water onto the frosted drinking glasses, “A little too much of one ingredient or a little too less and the whole drink goes to waste. You have to find a balance,” he emphasized the last part, almost as if this went beyond drinks, “Someone who wants a bloody mary is someone who definitely knows what they’re looking for,” he concludes his sermon-like speech, intensely staring at Taehyung. Namjoon looked at the man like he was crazy, who the hell overanalyzes a drink to this extent? Taehyung on the other had a look of fascination on his face, instead returning the stare.

“Well … cheers!,” Namjoon breaks the tense silence by raising his drink, momentarily being left hung dry until soon enough Taehyung lifted his drink up as well, the two of them clinking their glasses before chugging the bittersweet drink down their throats.

“Ah there he is!” Taehyung turned around, watching as his father made his way towards him, right alongside Sunhi’s parents. The two gave each other an awkward hug, “You better have a good damn reason for being so late,” his father harshly whispered into his ear before pulling back, the famous fake grin that Taehyung had grown to hate still plastered onto his face. The man was an expert at saving face, like father like son.  

Taehyung remained silent instead politely greeting Sunhi’s parents before watching the trio as they made their way to greet other guests.

“I’m going to need a second drink,” he exasperated, causing Namjoon to let out a laugh. The bartender nodded, immediately beginning to prepare their drinks.

“I’m surprised Sunhi hasn’t gotten her claws on you yet, I could’ve sworn she was here earlier,” Namjoon mentioned causing Taehyung to shrug, his expression now dulled at the mention of her.

“I feel bad, I sorta snapped at her earlier, but she kept on nagging me, wouldn’t let me sleep in peace. I blame you,” he said, commenting on the situation earlier.

“Hey I’m not the one whose forcing you to be with her,” Namjoon remarked, causing Taehyung to shoot him a glare, his eyebrows now furrowed.

Instead he changed the topic, accustomed to Namjoon’s dismay of the relationship, “I just want to go home and sleep,” Taehyung yawned, the event was boring him more and more by the minute.

“Same he—” Namjoon suddenly stopped mid sentence, something more “important” now having caught his eye.

“You’re practically drooling, you do realize that right?” Taehyung deadpanned, glancing at the girl who had caught his friend’s eye. She was pretty, he wasn’t going to lie, but she seemed like someone who was quite stuck up to be honest. But he assumed that about everyone around here as it takes one to know one. “So are you going to just stand here and stare like a creep or …”

“You don’t mind me leaving you here?” Namjoon’s voice sounded a little too excited. Taehyung shrugged his shoulders, he wasn’t the type of person who couldn’t stand being alone. In fact, he enjoyed his own company sometimes, he had actually read somewhere that it was quite important for one’s own mental health.

“I think I need to go find Sunhi either way, or else she’ll be nagging me the whole night as to why I didn’t find her sooner, that and apologize for earlier,” Namjoon nodded, lightly patting on his shoulder before making his way to the woman who had caught his eye, trying his best not to gawk so much.

“Now where could she be…” Taehyung mumbled to himself, having now left the bar and instead walking around the venue, making a half-assed attempt at looking for his girlfriend.

Taehyung could feel his legs swaying left to right, the lack of balance he had was probably laughable to anyone who wasn’t him. He wasn’t drunk, at least that’s what he was telling himself. The way the world was spinning told him otherwise. In all honesty he had only asked for a couple more drinks after the second one, but nonetheless he always was a lightweight drinker to begin with. His bladder felt as if it was going to burst at any moment so instead of Sunhi being his top priority, going to the restroom now was.

He looked around, the signs on the doors now looking slightly blurry. He grabbed the handle to what looked like could be the men’s restroom harshly pushing the door open.

Everything happens for a reason… right?

“Oh my God, It’s not what it looks like,” Because what were the chances that he caught her right in the act, with none other than Jeon Jungkook.

Taehyung had seen this situation play out in so many movies and TV shows, whereas the boyfriend usually destroys everything in his way and immediately begins to throw punches at the lover, and yada yada yada. But for some odd reason all Taehyung could do was stand there and watch as she hurriedly tried placing her bra back on.

He couldn’t help but actually want to … laugh. Really, because what were the chances? What were the chances that instead of walking into what he thought was a restroom, he instead walked in on his girlfriend and Seoul’s biggest man-whore about to fuck in a janitor’s closet.

He glanced at Jungkook who had nothing but a giant smirk plastered on his face, not even bothering to put his shirt back on.

Taehyung gathered his thoughts… What was he supposed to do again?  

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing left for Kim Taehyung to do, but to turn around and walk away. And so that’s what he did, drowning out her pleads for him to stay, a small smile gracing his lips. He was finally free.  

Namjoon must’ve left early because once Taehyung had returned back to the bar, he was nowhere to be found. He decided it was just best to leave before Sunhi could find him and start begging him to hear her out. After texting his security guard to meet him out front, he asked for a bottle of water and attempted at fully sobering up before he’d have to face several rapidly flashing lights in his face.

Did it end up actually helping? Fuck no. God, why did they have to park his Mercedes so far away. It was as if no matter how many steps he felt like he was taking, he was no closer to where he wanted to be.

“Smile for the camera man, come on!” The rapid flashes of light caused Taehyung to stumble his footsteps worse than before, the responses he gave to the multiple questions being thrown at him coming out more like mumbles and slurs. He knew that deep inside his brain was sending him signals on what to do, whether his body was listening was another story.

“Watch where you’re going man! Momma’s boy can’t handle his liq—” one of the paparazzo shouted at him while grabbing at his arm, and maybe it had been cause he was drunk, maybe because he was simply just tired, but in an instant Taehyung had felt his fist collide with the man’s face throwing everyone and everything into a frenzy. The questions and comments now coming out of their mouths at a lightning speed, some were cursing him out, others were pretending to praise him at an attempt to get him to say something, but none of it mattered because by the time he got into the car it was too late to take any of it back, and soon enough everything had gone black.

Saturday Evening.

The hangover the next day was literal hell, Taehyung felt as if the inner surface of his skull was practically being thrashed upon, his eyesight struggling to cope with the rays of daylight that directly shone on his eyes. Not only that, but his mouth had felt so dry, however having to get up for water seemed like so much work to do considering how much his back was aching.

It was like the flu except it had been self-inflicted. He attempted to raise his heavy eyelids all in one go, just for them to immediately fall shut. He could feel the constant vibrating notifications from his phone, choosing to ignore it altogether as he figured it was probably Sunhi sending him several text messages. Even if it wasn’t her, he was too lazy to even stretch his arm out and disconnect his phone. Maybe he could sleep it off, he thought to himself, curling himself back under his thick duvet.

How was it that he was barely 22 and already facing the repercussions of intense hangovers when just a couple of years ago he could drink all night long and wake up the next day hangover free. It was as if with each passing year it just got worse, no wonder so many older folks didn’t get drunk anymore, they had learnt it the hard way.

And just as he was about to fall asleep, of course his stomach had to both lurch and gurgle like some kind of trapped animal. He groaned, swinging his feet around in bed like a kid who had just been told “no”. Sadly, he was going to have to force himself to get up and so he did.

Once on his feet, he immediately felt the room sway almost causing him to lose balance until he managed to grab onto his bedstead in order to keep himself standing. He yawned and stretched out his entire body, lowkey loving the sound of his bones cracking. Time to start a new day.

After brushing up, he began to prepare himself something quick to eat fearing that his stomach was going to lash out on him any moment and so he decided to make some scrambled eggs. Quick and easy. Right?

Wrong.

The rare occasions that Taehyung did cook were always 50/50, as in there was half a chance whatever he cooked would come out either decent or completely under/over cooked. The boy practically lived off of takeout, restaurants, and microwaveable food, but at this current moment he needed food and quickly at that. Today his eggs had come out slightly undercooked with some of the yolk still a little slimy, but it was edible nonetheless.

As he ate he was genuinely surprised at the fact that Sunhi didn’t ambush his home this morning, causing him to set a reminder on his phone to remove her fingerprint off of his security system as soon as possible. He scrolled through her long thread of texts that consisted of her going back and forth between apologizing, begging, and guilt tripping him, only causing him to roll his eyes and sigh.

[Incoming Facetime from: Namjoon 🐨]

Taehyung quirked his brow before clicking “accept”.

“Weren’t you the one who scolded me about facetiming without sending a warning text,” he laughed, it wasn’t like he was lying.

“Ah I know, I know, but I felt sorta bad for just leaving last night without saying goodbye, but a man has his needs,” Namjoon now sported a giant grin on his face, probably recalling last night’s events, “and well I thought you’d be in bed hungover, in need of a wake up call,” he joked only causing Taehyung to flash him the middle finger through the screen.

“Well I’m up,” Taehyung wondered if Namjoon knew, maybe Sunhi had told him or something. He quickly scratched the idea as he knew Sunhi was the type of person to try and keep everything under wraps … but Jeon Jungkook was not.

Jeon Jungkook.

Remember the small mention of Namjoon and Taehyung fighting over the affections of a girl only for her to end up choosing someone else. That someone else was none other than Jeon Jungkook, one of Upper Seoul’s biggest man-whores, if not the biggest man whore. If Sunhi was actually someone Taehyung loved, he probably would’ve punched that stupid smirk off of Jungkook’s face last night, but luckily he didn’t have to. Did Jungkook have it out for Taehyung? It was unclear to be honest. This definitely wasn’t the first time Jungkook has attempted at sabotaging him despite Taehyung clearly showing he could care less.

In fact the two before yesterday’s incident had actually been mutual acquaintances being in the same “circle” and all. That circle being the sons of the multi million/billionares of Seoul which included names such as Kim Seokjin and Park Jimin. Namjoon in particular was good friends with Seokjin, who in return was very close with Jungkook. Seokjin and Namjoon both being the “neutral” bridge between the two. So Taehyung wasn’t going to be surprised if Seokjin had in fact informed Namjoon of yesterday’s dilemma. It had been Seokjin who told Namjoon of Jungkook’s actions of the past such as leaking Taehyung’s location to paparazzi on a number of occasions, stealing brand deals under Taehyung’s nose, and many other things.

“So…”

“I know that you know,” Taehyung chuckled out, causing Namjoon to let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh great, I was really not looking forward to beating around the bush and forcing it out of you,” he laughed, “well it looks like you got what you wanted.”

Taehyung’s nose crinkled in confusion, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on!—” Namjoon’s mouth curved into his famous dimpled smile, obviously trying (but failing) to repress his laugh, “Don’t act like you’re not the happiest man on Earth right now! You’ve probably been praying for something like this to happen for forever,” Taehyung’s face went sour, “You’ve needed an excuse to break up with Sunhi without you ending up being the bad guy for so long, and that’s why you probably haven’t even shedded a single tear since you found out,” he insisted causing Taehyung to let out a bitter scoff , mumbling a silent “That’s not true.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night Tae—” suddenly the sound of something abruptly falling grabbed Namjoon’s attention, “Moni! Put that down! Uh I gotta go, just text me later alright,” and with that he clicked, presumably to deal with his white feisty Eskimo.

Taehyung glanced at the clock which read 3:25PM, a small nap wouldn’t hurt right?

Sunday Morning.

So much for a “small nap”. Despite him having slept the whole Saturday off, Taehyung had woken up very early and in a good mood, ready to have himself a productive day.

He made himself breakfast that even a 5 year old could make: avocado toast with different slices of fruit and a simple protein shake. While letting his breakfast settle down in his stomach, he began to do his pre-workout stretch, with his goal in mind for today’s run being at least 6 miles.

After he was done stretching, he went down to the lobby making sure to politely greet his “neighbors”. They were the same people who kept tabs on him and sold him out to the press every chance they got, but not like he could lash out on them so instead he was forced to give them fake smiles along with stiff waves.

During his morning run, Taehyung took into appreciation of the crisp morning air which was both cold and dry. The view of the river brought him a sense of relaxation and before he knew it, he was done with his workout.

“What a beautiful day,” he had thought to himself as he walked back to his penthouse’s building, ready to take a much needed shower, but of course he should’ve known she was going to ambush him at some point because there she was, sitting in the building’s lobby.

Once she spotted him she immediately got up from the couch. He tried to quickly outpace her and get into the elevator, but she yanked on his hand preventing him from going any further.

“Stop avoiding me… please,” she sounded distraught which confused him. She certainly didn’t look distraught when she was getting her neck sucked on by Jungkook.

“Can we do this,” he pushed her hand off, “some other time. You’re gonna make a scene,” he scolded her. The two of them were in the middle of the lobby, and even though there seemed to be no one around, he could never be too sure.

“No because it seems this is the only way I could get your attention,” she muttered , “especially considering you removed my access,” causing him to let out a stifled laugh.

“Well that’s what someone does when they’re significant other hmm I don’t know cheats on them,” his voice emphasized the last words.

“I didn’t,” she quickly lowered her voice once she realized she had shouted that part out, “cheat on you,” she mumbled. “I was about to, but I didn’t,” she dramatically waved her finger at him.

“Yeah because I walked in on you?” he wondered if she knew how stupid she sounded.

“Well maybe if you showed me some affection every once in a while I wouldn’t have resorted to such acts!” What the two hadn't realized was that there was someone in the lobby quietly hiding behind a pillar, secretly recording the interaction between the two.

“Sunhi,” he ran his hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh, “can you just leave me alone? There is no fixing this, especially since this,” he made a motion with his fingers pointing to the both of them, “has been broken for a very long time.” And with the final word, he turned around and walked away, not bothering to look at her face which had now fallen from expression.

Sunday Night.

“Kim Taehyung NASTY fight with girlfriend Sunhi. Click here for more.” was what the Twitter article headlined their argument, and of course the link provided the video of the whole thing.

[From: Namjoon 🐨]

[10:10] you really can be an ass [link to video]

[To: Namjoon 🐨]

[10:11] how!!

[10:11] i just told her the truth, at the end of the day no one can tell me that I was in the wrong 🤷🏻‍♂️

[From: Namjoon 🐨]

[10:12] you’d be surprised with what knetz have to say…

[10:13] them and the media are going crazy over you unfollowing her

Taehyung scoffed while unplugging his phone and rolling to the other side of bed now that his phone was at 100%.

[To: Namjoon 🐨]

[10:14] yea well idc.

[From: Namjoon 🐨]

[10:15] well at least ur out the relationship, that’s all that matters right 😬

[10:16] looks like ur back on the market … we all know how crazy that can get

Taehyung could feel himself become stiff at the last text. What was that supposed to mean? Maybe he was overthinking it too much…  

He was a different person now, he reassured himself. Before he could dwell on it any further he decided that it was best to just go to sleep.

Monday Afternoon.

The next day Taehyung continued with his routine of making a somewhat decent breakfast, and running his daily number of miles, crossing his fingers that he wouldn’t be ambushed like the morning prior. Luckily he wasn’t.

The sensation of steamy water hitting his body was calming to him, the shower was very much needed. Trying not to get so lost in his thoughts, he began to sing the random songs that first came to mind. He’d been told by Namjoon on multiple occasions that his singing was good, but Taehyung at this current moment was just glad he lived alone. Namjoon, or anyone for that matter, would probably make fun of him for the song he was um … rapping.

“Ain't got enough money to pay me respect. Ain't no budget when I'm on the set. If I like it, then that's what I get!” his sudden motions almost made him slip, but luckily he had caught himself just in time, “yeah,” he finished off the lyric despite his near death experience.

It was once he got out the shower that he was in for a surprise.

“7 Rings… really?” Taehyung’s towel almost fell from his waist because of his jump in surprise. Thankfully he had held onto it before it could completely fall. “I didn’t take you to be such an Ariana Grande fan,” Taehyung rolled his eyes to the teasing Namjoon.

“It’s the song of the summer for your information,” he interjected, “And how the hell did you even get up here?”

“Hmm I don’t know maybe because you practically forced me to get my fingerprint and memorize your code so that I would,” Namjoon mimicked quote signs with his fingers, “stop bugging you when I could open the door myself,” causing Taehyung’s stern face to quickly become one of dumbfoundeness.

“Oh…”

“I’ll be in the kitchen making myself some food,” he playfully sighed before making his way out of Taehyung’s room.

Taehyung quickly lotioned his body, put on his overnight hair products, and threw on a baggy sweater along with some black sweatpants, assuming that Namjoon hopefully wasn’t going to try and drag him to go outside. He had a long week ahead of him which included photoshoots, interviews, meetings, and overall promotion for this brand new deal considering he currently served as the “face” to his family’s business.

“Wow making japchae, who put you in a good mood?” Taehyung laughed as he peeped over Namjoon’s shoulder, catching a whiff of the food he was making causing Namjoon to flash his dimpled smile at him.

“Well I have a date in a couple of weeks and so I’ve been practicing every chance I get,” he admitted catching Taehyung by surprise, “and before you ask, yes it’s the girl from the event on Friday.”

Taehyung tried to subdue his shock, “If I’m being honest I thought she was kind of a…” he contemplated his next choice of words, “um…”

“A one night stand,” Namjoon completed the sentence, a look of understanding on his face. “Well if I’m being honest I thought the same thing,” he cheeks reddened, “but she actually ended up being really sweet, and well I really li—”

“Okay I think I’m done hearing your little sap story that you haven’t even started,” he pretends to yawn, causing Namjoon to flash his middle finger at him which only makes him laugh, “Sorry I’m not a hopeless romantic like you.”

Namjoon scoffed as he stirred the noodles around, “So what? Deep down you know you’re one as well.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I’ve heard it all before. Why are you here again?” Namjoon flashed his middle finger again now causing Taehyung to laugh even harder than the first time.

“You sure know how to be rude sometimes,” Namjoon was now serving the japchae onto some plates, “and I’m here because one, I was bored, and two, because I was wondering if you were going to Thursday’s brunch,” the look on Taehyung’s face gave Namjoon the answer he was looking for.

“I completely forgot about that…”

“Why am I not surprised,” Namjoon sighed while giving Taehyung his plate of food.  

“It’s always the same old place, same old routine, and most importantly the same old people,” he made sure to emphasize that last part, “you’re telling me you don’t get bored?”

“I do, but look what happened last time, I met someone new!” Namjoon bragged, only resulting in Taehyung rolling his eyes once again. “You’re like the grinch, but for love I swear,” Namjoon groaned, mentally taking note that the pleasant look on Taehyung’s face meant he had done a good job at making japchae. As long as he followed the exact amount of ingredients and steps as he did today then his date would go along just fine.

Taehyung slurped the final remaining bits of food on his plate before responding to Namjoon, “I’m fresh out of a relationship Joon, let me enjoy being single for the time being.”

“In the media’s eyes you’re fresh out of a relationship, but you and I both know that you’ve been single for a very long time,” Taehyung stayed silent at Namjoon’s words, a sudden pang of guilt now hitting him as he recalled what he had told Sunhi in the lobby that past Saturday. Did Taehyung see Namjoon’s point? Yes, of course he did. Did it feel good hearing it? No, it didn’t.

“Well um guess what, she cheated on me. I remained faithful, which honestly,” he scoffed in between his words, “was the least I could do. So stop trying to paint me as some big villain,” he sneered.

“All I’m saying is that the Taehyung I know would have never even gotten into that relationship to begin with,” Namjoon silently muttered to himself, a dismissive look on his face, causing Taehyung to let out a sardonic laugh. As if Namjoon was a better person than he was?

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” he snapped, “You know I’m getting real tired of your little sly comments, as if i’m not going to catch on at some point, if you have something to say then grow some balls and say it,” Taehyung's voice echoed across the kitchen walls. Taehyung’s heart was practically pounding out of his chest, his jaw now completely clenched, glaring at Namjoon. The light atmosphere in the room had become stiff in the blink of an eye.

One would think that Namjoon would be shocked, maybe even angry at Taehyung’s outburst, but all he did was stare back, seeming completely unfazed, a pot that had been bubbling for quite some time between the two finally bubbling over. Withheld opinions, finally lashed out, “I’ll just never understand why you couldn’t break up with her from the moment your dad didn’t need you to date her anymore, or why you even got with her in the first place. All you did was waste her time and let her convince herself that she was in love with you knowing damn well you’ve never felt anything from day one. I mean even now she thinks there’s something worth saving,” he cursed, his voice now elevated up several notches, “And it’s the fact that you see nothing wrong with it that makes me sick!”

Taehyung’s face immediately fell, hurt by his friend’s words, but it didn’t stop Namjoon from continuing on, “I mean the Taehyung I knew would’ve never in a million years agreed to do something like this for anyone,” disappointment evident in his voice, “let alone for your dad,” he spat. “It just,” he pauses, “It just isn’t like you Taehyung. None of this is.”

Taehyung could feel his tough demeanor crumble, “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, so stop acting like you do,” he scowled.

“It’s just funny to me, years ago you’d talk about becoming nothing like your dad, but nowadays it looks like I’m looking at his clone,” Namjoon muttered, “You’ve changed Taehyung. You may joke around with me here and there, but I can tell you’re always holding back. You leave for a whole year to God knows where, and come back a completely different person, acting like your dad’s very own fucking puppet. You’ve closed yourself off. Like, like you’re mad at the world or something, or I don’t know—”

“And what, you want the old reckless Taehyung back?! The one who destroyed everything in his fucking path! Is that what the fuck you want?” his voice boomed, but even Namjoon could see it was merely a facade, the mixture of both guilt and sadness seeping through the cracks of his voice.

“Of course not! But the Taehyung standing in front of me is no better than the one before. You may not be as reckless as you used to be, but you’re definitely just as careless,” Namjoon condemned him, “And so then I think about everything and all I could ask myself is why? Why don’t you find something or someone, you genuinely love, something that makes you happy, not your dad, not the media, YOU.”

“Because I just don’t want to Joon…”  Taehyung looked away, ashamed to make eye contact, his voice had now become a mere whisper.

“And all I can think about is if it has something to do with —” Namjoon could see Taehyung physically tense up, “Taehyung what the hell happened that night?” he pleaded desperately.

“Just don’t Joon,” and with that Namjoon knew that even he was pushing the boundaries, deciding that it was best to just keep quiet, “I came back didn’t I? ” he harshly spat.

There was a pregnant pause, “I’m sorry,” Namjoon apologized, but was only met with silence. Taehyung got up from the kitchen chair, and placed his dish into the sink, harshly passing by Namjoon.

“Make sure you lock the door on your way out,” he muttered, before making his way upstairs into his room, leaving Namjoon standing in the kitchen by himself.

Monday Night.

And so that night, Taehyung stared up at his ceiling thinking about what Namjoon had told him. He was hurt by his friend’s words, but he couldn’t deny that he didn’t understand where he was coming from …

But it wasn’t like Taehyung was a cold hearted person, or at least he’d like to think he wasn’t. Behind it all, he was still the same kind and polite person he’d always been. He was just more mature nowadays, finally growing up like he should’ve years ago. It was simply for the best.

So then why did he feel so wrong?

He felt conflicted, he felt guilt, but honestly he had been feeling guilty long before he got into a relationship with Sunhi. Maybe it was that same guilt he’s felt eating him alive for the past several years that’s made him close himself off to others. It was the same guilt that led to disappearing one night and not coming back until about a year later.

Feeling overwhelmed, he decided to get up from bed, and stepped onto his balcony just wanting to just look at the stars before going to bed. Tonight they had seemed to be shining extra bright, he attempted at counting each one, losing count mid way. 

He couldn’t help but reminisce about his childhood, when he and his mom would go camping at Noeul Campground at least once a year, and oh how the stars would shine like never before. The two of them making a game of who could come up with the best figurines using the stars. It was nights like these that he truly did miss her, but he knew she was watching over him. Forever and always.

“I know I haven’t talked to you in a while, I hope you’re not mad. I know it’s no excuse, but time nowadays just goes by so fast and well I’m coming to a point in life where I feel like I have nothing figured out. Like as if I’m not truly satisfied, and not truly well … happy. I just feel lost, Ma. I thought coming back here, I could put the facade that I was fine but,” he lets out a deep breath,”I’m just not. God I wish you were here, you’d know exactly what to say right now,” he could feel the warm droplets of water falling from his face, not bothering to wipe them off. “I’m so sorry Ma,” were his final words before stepping back inside, a peaceful slumber waiting for him in bed.

Thursday Morning.

“Ah now this is what I’ve been looking forward to,” Namjoon grinned as politely grabbed the mimosa from the bartender’s hand. Taehyung made a motion with his hand once Namjoon offered him his cup, instead leaning against the bar watching as guests made their way in and out of the venue.

Taehyung and Namjoon had made up in the days prior, Taehyung sending a “btw the japchae was too sweet 🤭” text message, as a way of telling Namjoon that all was forgiven. Taehyung in return, reflected on Namjoon’s words, deciding that he was right, something needed to change.

“This place, it’s …” Namjoon expected a complaint out of Taehyung’s mouth, “really pretty,” he finished off, genuinely surprising Namjoon.

The venue resembled some kind of greenhouse, the arrangement of dangling flowers and potted plants, along with the rays of natural sunlight peeking through the glass exterior, and the minimalist design in seat arrangement truly was a work of art. The air itself felt crisp and fresh, he assumed it was because of the mixture of the plants’ scent along with the air ventilators.

“Wow, look who's in a good mood,” Namjoon teased him, Taehyung flashing him a small smile. Despite it only being 9 o'clock in the morning, he was glad he came. It was a brand new day, and he felt optimistic that things were going to start looking up for him.

“Ah well, let’s just enjoy it while it lasts,” he responded clearly joking around, “Let’s just say I thought about everything you said, and well I just want to start fresh. No more getting pressured into things, and being so tense about everything all the time, just me going with the flow,” Namjoon quirked his eyebrow, genuinely interested in what Taehyung had to say, “Whatever happens…” he pauses, “happens,” he finishes off, a grin now on his face.

As the brunch event went on, Taehyung continued to observe people, examining what they wore, the way they spoke, how they acted, as it usually told him a lot about a person.

“I’ll take a bloody mary, light on the vodka please,” Taehyung’s ears perked up at what he heard, a bloody mary? This early in the morning? He remembered the bartender’s words from a couple of days ago.

He tried to glance at the figure who was only a couple of feet away from him, sitting in one of the many empty seats aligned at the bar. He tried using his peripheral vision to try and make out a face, but sadly whoever this was, the angle that they were sitting along with their honey colored straw hat helped cover most of their face. The only thing he could see was that whoever it was, was a female and clearly a reckless one as a bloody mary was most likely going to result in an embarrassing stain.

He wondered if she was new around here, the way she was sitting clearly told him that she probably was. You see there were almost unspoken rules in the upper class, methods on doing things, and a high regard for appearance and well her posture wasn’t exactly… the best, and the blatant disregard for the all white dress code made him curious as to who she was. Like there was some kind of pull that made him feel the need to go up to her. She seemed … different.

“And you wanted to come at me for gawking last time! You can’t even see her face from here,” Namjoon’s undeniably loud voice interrupted his train of thought.

“Um any fucking louder and I’m sure the whole place will hear you,” Taehyung face was flushed, hoping the woman didn’t hear. Namjoon raised his hands in defense.

“Hm …” Namjoon stayed silent for a couple of seconds, before a mischievous look appeared on his face, “Hey well since you’re so keen about going with flow,” he mimicked Taehyung’s word’s from earlier, “how about you go get her number and see where things go from there,” he winked. 

Taehyung quickly shook his head, garnering a laugh out of Namjoon. “Since when has Kim Taehyung been too scared to ask for someone’s number,” he teased, “Come on you know you want to, I’ll even go find something else to do just in case she rejects you, I won’t be there to see it.”

He contemplated going up to her, what if she was just another Upper Seoul brat? Worse, what if Namjoon was right and she just completely shrugged him off? No, no one shrugged Kim Taehyung off. Namjoon's grin became wider once he saw Taehyung’s eyebrows furrow, and a determined look appearing on his face.

And so with that he decided he’d go up to her, maybe try and make some small talk. It wouldn't hurt , right? At least he wouldn’t be as bored as he was now. Slowly he made his way over to the seat next to her, trying not to look so much like a creep.

“I’ll take a mimosa please,” he ordered, the bartender nodded, “So you’re not scared of spilling your drink?” Taehyung quickly noticed how tense the woman became from his question, her posture going from relaxed to completely stiff. It wasn’t until she turned to face him that Taehyung felt taken back, his heart now pounding out of his chest, and the feeling of nervousness hitting him like a wave. As cliche as he thought it sounded, she was completely mesmerizing.

“Oh uh well,” she stuttered her words out bringing him a sense of comfort that he wasn’t the only nervous one,“um,” she was looking anywhere but his eyes, “No not really, I tend to be careful with things like this,” she explained now fidgeting with her fingers. 

Maybe it had been bad luck, but a couple of seconds later Taehyung suddenly now had red tomato juice mixed with vodka plastered all over his shirt. “Oh my God! I am so sorry!” she exclaimed. 

Several guests were now staring at the scene in front of them, the unknown girl now had a look of horror on her face, but instead of being upset all Taehyung could do was genuinely laugh. “I really didn’t mean to do that, oh my—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he reassured her, slowly pushing her hand away which was uselessly blotting his white buttoned up shirt with a napkin.

“No it’s not, I really didn’t mean to do that, I just—” her face was as red as the spilled drink itself, her words coming out completely jumbled almost as if she was talking more to herself than him.

“And I’m telling you it’s okay,” he insisted, “I think you’ve done the most interesting thing around here in a very long time,” he then stuck his hand out, “I’m Taehyung,” he introduces himself, giving her a small smile along the way.

It felt like she was staring at him for an eternity with nothing but a doe-eyed look on her face, and he wondered what was going through her head. Was he really that intimidating? With several thoughts running through his head, the feeling of regret now creeped onto the back of his mind, maybe he shouldn’t have ever come up to her. What was he thinking? This was practically all his fault.

His panic came into a halt once he felt the touch of her hand now moving along with his, “I’m Y/N.”

🧚🏻 a/n: here we goooo! finally kicking things off hehe, things should defiantly move faster from this point on, I just felt like it was important for me to establish both y/n and Taehyung’s personality, background, and all that good stuff before diving into the basis of the whole story. feel free to send me any theories, comments, asks, etc ! I shall update very soon. 

[thepancakeboi]

124. “You seem like a friendly face, mind if I sit with you?”

When I had walked into one of the many cafes in Shibuya for lunch, I had not expected the visit to be anything noteworthy. I was going to get something quick to eat and leave just as quickly. That is until I looked around the place. It’s never been a very crowded cafe, even at its busiest. It’s one of the hidden little gems Ann had shown me a few months ago that I’ve started frequenting somewhat regularly. But, at one of the tables closest to me, I see Ann herself sitting with someone. The other person, probably a friend of Ann’s, is unfamiliar to me. I decide to approach them, greeting them as I say, “Hello, Ann.”

Ann’s face lights up as she replies, “Oh, hey Goro!”

It’s days like these when I’m glad I have her as a friend. She was the first of Ren’s friends to accept me for who I am. Once she found out that I did, in fact, have a sweet tooth despite saying otherwise, she constantly dragged me with her to have whatever dessert she fancied that day. I’ve grown to genuinely enjoy her company. Even if I already know the answer, I ask, “What are you doing here?”

“We’re gonna get some cake! Can you believe she hasn’t had the cake here? If I had known you weren’t busy, I would’ve asked you to come too!”

“That’s all right.” I turn my head to look at the person Ann’s with. She has short black hair that fluffs out a bit. The rest of her face is obscured, her head turned as if to avoid making eye contact with me. Compared to Ann’s vibrant outfit, this girl’s is much more subdued. Even so, her long-sleeved gray top that exposes her shoulders and the black skirt seem to suit her, for some reason. I wonder why I haven’t met this girl until now. I look back to Ann as I remark, “I don’t think you’ve introduced me to your friend. What’s her name?”

“Ah! The name. Um...it’s Akira! Akira Kurusu.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet, Kurusu-san. You seem like a friendly face, mind if I sit with you?” The girl only shakes her head in response, not even looking up at me. Her reticent attitude gives me pause. I didn’t mean to offend her. “My apologies. Did I say something wrong?”

“No no! Sit down,” Ann says reassuringly. I sit down in a chair between the two girls as Ann stammers, trying to explain Akira’s behavior. “Uh, it’s just...that...she...she’s a huge fan of yours! Yeah. And we didn’t think we’d be seeing you.” She laughs awkwardly as she finishes, twirling a lock of hair in her fingers.

“Oh? I’m honored,” I reply, pulling out my typical TV-perfect smile that’s as fake as the personality it belongs to. Even if Ann knows that I’m very much unlike my detective prince facade, Akira likely doesn’t know that. I figure it’s best to keep up that pretense around her. “Most people seemed to forget my name after the Phantom Thieves incident ended. So, how do you two know each other?”

“I, uh, met her at one of my photoshoots! She’s wanted to be a model for a loooong time.”

“A model? I’m certain you’ll do well in the industry. You have the looks befitting a model.” Akira still doesn’t look at me, her gaze glued to her hands in her lap. Her nails are painted black, and I think I can see her blushing? Or perhaps it’s makeup. Either is possible, all things considered. She is rather flat-chested for a model, but there is nothing wrong with th-okay, why am I even noticing this? I really hope she didn’t catch me looking. After a few seconds of silence, I turn to Ann, who didn’t seem to notice my earlier gaze. My voice is hushed as I gently ask, “Are you sure she’s okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. She’s really shy at first.” Ann doesn’t seem too surprised at her friend’s behavior. Maybe it’s normal for Akira. Ann seems to remember something as she quickly adds, “But she does talk about you a lot!”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm! I don’t think she’d be able to stop talking about you. She goes on and on about how great you are.”

The laugh I give, while mostly fake, is a somewhat genuine one. “Surely, you exaggerate.”

“Nope. We went to get crepes, and once she found out you were my friend, she talked about you the whole time.”

“I see. Well, a friend of Ann’s is a friend of mine,” I say, looking over at Akira. She’s still staring at her hands as she fiddles nervously with the chain attached to her skirt. Hold on, why am I still noticing these little details? That thought gets shoved aside. Right now, I need to find out what exactly is making Akira act so quiet around me. Is she perhaps intimidated due to my former popularity? If that’s what the problem is, I need to try and get her to open up to me somehow, get her to see that I’m not as unapproachable as she thinks. Well, not unapproachable due to being the detective prince, that is. I doubt someone like her would be comfortable around my true self. “It’s all right. You don’t have to be shy around me. You and Ann are probably much more popular than me.”

“Oh, don’t say that! You’re the second detective prince. Even she knew about you after being in Tokyo for only a couple of months.”

“You’re not from here?” Akira shakes her head, starting to play with the chain hanging off her black choker. I can’t see much of her face, but I think I see a smile starting to form. At least she seems to be more at ease, even if she hasn’t said a word thus far. “Are you enjoying Tokyo so far?” A nod this time. “How long have you lived here? Or are you just visiting?”

“She’s been here for about two years now,” Ann says for Akira. “Likes it so much better than home.”

“In that case, perhaps I know the area where you’re living? I’ve been to a lot of places in Tokyo.” As I finish my comment, Akira’s chest starts to heave. Is she...laughing? What a strange girl. It’s clear she’s trying to hold her laughter in as if she doesn’t want anyone to hear it. I don’t understand. What’s so funny about what I just said? “Kurusu-san? Are you all right?”

Akira finally looks up at me with brilliant gray eyes accentuated by a lot of makeup: eyeliner, pink eyeshadow, and even a little black heart under her left eye. Her gaze is sharp, and it feels like she’s staring right into my soul. It almost reminds me of- Wait a minute. I get a closer look at the person sitting next to me. I recognize those eyes. My own eyes narrow instantly as I drop the detective prince act entirely.

“You.”

“Akira” gives me a lopsided smile, their identity finally revealed to me. I know exactly who this person is. “Hi, Akeppi~” the “girl” who is none other than my boyfriend, Ren Amamiya, says before quickly kissing me. His lips, I notice, are covered with lipstick, and the blush I had noticed earlier was indeed a lot of makeup. Now that I know exactly who this is, I understand why I was so drawn to the mysterious person next to me. I allow myself to notice that he’s wearing black thigh highs over fishnet tights. Well, I suppose this being Ren explains the flat-chestedness observation from earlier. “Are you enjoying yourself, staring at me?”

My eyes dart up upon hearing his question, seeing the devious look in his eyes. Damn it, did he notice earlier then...? I groan, “Shut up. Just...explain. Now.”

“We didn’t mean to trick you!” Ann says, trying not to giggle now that the charade is done. “I just wanted to see if Ren could pass off as a girl, and he let me dress him up.”

“It must’ve worked if even Akeppi didn’t notice,” Ren says as he scoots his chair closer so that he can hug me. So much for that reserved personality from before. “You should’ve seen the look on your face when you realized it was me.”

“You are a menace,” I snap, trying to pry his arms off of me with no success.

“Yup! But I’m your menace.”

“Damn you both.”

Ann and Ren both laugh at that. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had been trying to hold it in during the entire conversation. How they made it so long without laughing, I have no idea. Despite how annoyed I am that I fell for their spur-of-the-moment prank, I can’t help but join in, chuckling under my breath. Their laughter is infectious. Well, at least they’re enjoying themselves.

“This was fun, Ann,” Ren comments after he’s had his fill of laughing at my expense. “We should do this again.”

“For sure!” she replies. “We could try another style and see how it looks.”

“Wait, I have an idea. You should do Akeppi next time,” Ren suggests, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh, that would be amazing!” Ann immediately looks at me, her excitement at the prospect all too obvious. “Can I? Please?”

“Not a chance,” I snap, refusing to entertain this latest scheme of theirs. “Ren may have agreed to it, but I’m not Ren.”

“Come on, please?” Ann looks at me, doe-eyed, pleading with me to allow her request. “At least let me do your hair and paint your nails.”

“Fine,” I groan. I can put up with that much, I suppose. They both grin simultaneously, sharing a quick glance. Something tells me I should be concerned about what they’re plotting, but I can deal with that later. “So, are you both actually planning on having cake, or was that as much a lie as Ren being a girl named Akira Kurusu?”

“Oh, yeah! That was true. Do you want some too, Goro?”

“I don’t think I’ll have much of a choice, considering someone probably won’t let go of me.” I pointedly look at Ren as I say this, who is still hugging me, might I add.

“No~” he hums as he tightens his hold, confirming that much for me.

“Well, in that case, I suppose I’ll have some cake. If it’s as delicious as it was last time, then I look forward to it.”

We talk for a while longer while eating cake, Ann having more than enough pieces for the both of us. How she can eat so many sweets with no problem, I have no idea. Eventually, we part ways with Ann, Ren holding onto me the entire way home like a cute, clingy girlfriend head-over-heels in love with me. That is a mental image I never thought I would apply to my own life. I can’t help but affectionately ruffle Ren’s hair, the action earning me a jubilant grin. I truly am blessed to have both Ren and Ann in my life.

Prompt source

[softyoongiionly]

NSFW A-Z List (Mama Mia! Jungkook)

***This contains smut, 18+ only please***

“Aqua told me you all had some questions for me so, I had my assistant fax me the prompt and, I’m really hoping she didn’t read it because, these are filthy ha. I hope you all enjoy yourselves.” 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex):

“It kind of depends on the situation but, if I just had sex, I’m in a good mood. If Y/N and I are in the bed, I make sure I change the sheets and, I make sure she’s cleaned up and, feeling good too. Sometimes we like to talk about it. A bit of pillow talk is always great. PILLOWW TALK! Do you guys remember that song by that one dude in one direction? Great song. It’s like he left one direction and, immediately needed to say the word fuck and sing about sex.” 

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

“This is a weird question. I like my abs? I guess? I mean I spent like a million hours in the gym trying to tone up and stuff so, it’s definitely the only thing that stands out.” 

“Y/N is the by far the most beautiful woman on the planet so, it’s a little hard to pin point one specific part of her I like the most. If I had to choose, I would say her eyes. Sometimes she looks at me and, I suddenly forget all three languages I speak. She takes my breath away. Literally, who is she looking at like that? Me? Does she value my life at all? Is she trying to kill me? Probably. I love her :-)” 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person):

“Cum...I don’t really know what I’m supposed to talk about in this section so, I’m just gonna say- yes?? Is that the right answer?” 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

“One time, when Y/N was away on business, I jerked off so much in one day, I sprained my hand. I guess that isn’t dirty but, it is embarrassing. I’d probably do it again though, I’m so spoiled that I forgot what’s its like to go without sex.” 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?):

“Yikes this question is a little hard for me to answer. Before meeting Y/N, I had a lot of different partners. After finding out my half-brother tried to steal my recipe, I got really down on myself. I felt really empty and, I spent a lot of time partying and, hooking up with random people. I don’t really know how many if I’m being honest. It was a lot though. After awhile I kind of snapped out of it and, realized I needed to deal with my issues head on so, after a bit of therapy, I was doing a lot better. Sexually, I’ve had a lot of experience but, intimacy? That’s a lot newer for me. And let me tell you my dudes, nothing is sexier than being with someone who truly loves and cares for you. I don’t make the rules.” 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual):

“Missionary. Listen, I know it’s a boring answer but, I’m a sucker for passion what can I say? I like watching her face and, seeing all the little expressions she makes, especially right when I first push inside of her. Also, it’s the best position for her to scratch up my back and, I really love when she does that.” 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc):

“I don’t really find a lot of things to laugh about during sex but, I’m sure it’s happened at some point. Sex is kind of a serious thing for me now but, I wouldn’t stay serious if something funny happened because, sometimes funny things do happen. When they do, we laugh but, then I’m right back in the moment again. Y/N and I mess around a lot in our daily lives so, I like to use sex as a way to show her how serious I am about her and, our relationship.” 

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.):

“I got laser hair removal like 3 years ago. Yes, it’s possible to get it done in sensitive areas but, it’s crazy expensive. Or so I’ve heard, I’m not gonna lie to you, my idea of expensive and, other people’s idea of expensive are probably a little different. But yeah, I got it all lasered off so, it doesn’t really grow there anymore. I keep my face shaved too but, my arms and legs are free to grow all the hair they want.” 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…):

“With Y/N, I’m a little bit of a hopeless romantic, I can’t lie. I love all of that cheesy shit. Rose petals on the bed? Yes. Wine and chocolate on the shores of our private beach? At least twice a week. Leaving Y/N little post it notes all over our villa that contain all the things I love about her? Duh. I AM A SAP. I AM A MESS. I can’t help myself. My father collects first edition classic novels and, for Valentine’s Day, I had him send me the contact of his distributor so, I could buy Y/N the first edition of The Princess Bride. It’s one of her favorites. It was only $1,400 so, I definitely got a good deal. I also had a custom gown imported from France and, a prince-like outfit made for me. What do princes even wear? What is that called? Tights? I don’t know but, I looked like a goddamn Disney prince by the time I was done getting ready. I rented a different villa out for the weekend and, my interior designer decorated it like a medieval castle. We spent the weekend playing prince and princess and, it was probably one of the best weekends of my life. So to answer your question: Yes, I am romantic.”

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon):

“I only really touch myself when Y/N is away. Her and I have a pretty consistent sex life so, we have sex almost every day, sometimes multiple times a day. I don’t really have a need for it anymore and, it doesn’t feel nearly as good as sex with Y/N.”

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks):

“I have a few. I’m really sensitive to smells so, if Y/N smells good, I can’t keep my hands off of her. She has this one perfume from Gucci that I love so much. I can get hard just from the smell; it’s kind of pathetic honestly. I love  having sex outside too. It’s a good thing we have a private strip of the beach because, if we had neighbors nearby, they would hate us ha. I have a cashmere picnic blanket that we take down there a few times a week and, we always end up making love on it. Yes, I said making love. Get over it. Oh and, if Y/N says anything about my muscles or how strong I am? Instant turn on. I think I have a praise kink? Is that what it’s called? I love Y/N’s panties too. Lace, silk, cotton, clean or dirty; I don’t discriminate, just put them in my mouth. Lol, this is getting dirty…sorry Aqua.”

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do):

“I already kind of answered this but, sex on the beach or sex on our balcony are probably my top two.”

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going):

“I feel like I answered this one too because, I just talked about my kinks but, I would say my motivation is to get my girl off right? I get off easily. I have a beautiful woman all over me, saying dirty things in my ear… I mean, my orgasm is guaranteed. Y/N doesn’t take a long time to cum anymore because; I know how to please my woman but, I still want her to feel good. I want to see her let go and, let someone else take care of her for a change. She works so hard. I want to show her what a good woman she is. I want to show her how much I love her.”

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

“Threesomes, anal and, I’m pretty sure this is everyone’s answer but, bodily fluids belong in the toilet.”

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc):

“Yes.”

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.):

“Both. Sometimes I want to draw it out and, let her feel every inch of me but, sometimes I want to fuck so hard we are both sore the next day. It’s all amazing either way.”

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.):

“I love quickies. They are great in the afternoon when she and I have things to do but, we still want each other. They would get old after a while though so, we usually do both. It’s very rare that we just have a quickie and, nothing else but, sometimes it happens. Ever since we moved to Greece, we try to always make time for each other but, we both get busy from time to time.”

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.):

“I’m game to experiment a little bit but, Y/N and I have been together awhile. We’ve tried a few different things but, sex with her is so amazing, I don’t feel the need to experiment that much anymore.”

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…):

“I can last forever if I need to. Like I said, my orgasm is an easy thing to obtain with a woman like Y/N so, my focus is making sure she’s feeling it too. I can go for multiple rounds too, I mean it’s hard not to. Have you seen her? We have sex all night sometimes. I hope she finishes her conference call soon, I’m really starting to miss her…”

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?):

“Y/N owns a very tasteful collection of dildos made out of rose quartz and jade. I use them on her sometimes between rounds but, I don’t know how often she uses them beyond that. I don’t own any toys but, I do spend quite a bit of money on new lingerie for Y/N. She has an entire armoire for all of her outfits. Oh, we have gold handcuffs too. We take turns using them on each other.”

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

“Y/N has a really sensitive spot on her neck and, she’s really tender around her waist so, sometimes I come up beyond her and, brush my lips against her throat and, tickle her. She’s told me it turns her on immediately so, I like to play with her a little bit. We both tease each other a lot though, especially during phone meetings. One time, I was on a 4 way call with my investors and, she sucked my dick through the entire thing. I thought I was gonna have a heart attack but, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t cum a little harder that time. Maybe that’s another kink of mine…”

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make):

“We live on a private piece of land so; we can be as loud as we want. I’m only loud when things are getting intense but, even still I’m not screaming at the top of my lungs. She isn’t crazy loud either but, I do try my hardest to get her to scream my name every now and again. Just for fun.”

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice):

“Y/N and I are in the process of buying an island in the Caribbean and, sometimes I get turned on when she talks about how much money we both have. I’m sorry, I know it’s a dick move but, it’s the truth. I donate millions to charity every year, I swear.”

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words):

“I’m like 7 inches I think? When I’m hard it’s probably like 8 or 9. I’m not sharing any more than that ha.”

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?):

“Pretty high. Unless I’m really sick or really busy.”

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

“If we’ve been going for multiple rounds, I’m pretty exhausted by the end of it but, I don’t just fall asleep. I don’t want to leave the bed afterwards though. I just want to cuddle with Y/N until we both pass out. If it’s during the day and, we’ve only gone once or twice, I’m not tired at all.”

“Aqua wanted me to dedicate this to @gldnrecs​ and, @bulletproofbirdy​. She says you guys are the best and, apparently you have a sweet spot for me. So, I guess I’ll dedicate this to you too ha. I hope you liked it.”

[taramikealson]

New Orleans Is Such A Sight (Pt. #1)

Rain poured down in large sheets, running down the gutters in small waves. The hood to a black rain-coat was tugged tighter to conceal the blonde curls from the harsh winds. Her feet take forceful steps towards a small side street where a lone, cracked open, metal gate stood. Delicate fingers push the gate open a few more inches to allow her access to the inside. At the halt of water that the structure provided her, she pulled the hood off of her head, looking around the space as she did. 

The building was beautiful. The high arches, open court-yard, tan walls - bricks revealed where the drywall was missing. It was obvious that the house was old and worn in, but it was kept well enough that it became part of its character. 

She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t even be on this continent but leave it to Damon to angering a pack of werewolves a few hours before a full moon. 

Caroline hadn’t stayed in Mystic Falls. A year after her mother died, she left. She needed time to cope and space to figure out what she wanted out of life. At first, she was a little scared, staying state-side. Ultimately, after visiting a few states, she braved up and traveled to Italy, and then France. Then Switzerland, Austria, Spain, Germany, Greece, Ireland, and finally, London.  Caroline spent quite a bit of time there, liking the culture and feel of normal British life. Although, after a while, she became bored with the gloominess of the British city and wanted to move onto more sun-filled places. One of those areas happened to be The Bahamas. The tropical paradise gave her a chance to relax and take in the abundance of sunlight. Caroline enjoyed it quite a bit, laying out on a towel, sunglasses resting on the arch of her nose as she watched the waves fold onto themselves. 

She’d barely noticed it, but before she knew it, she’d spent a few months there. Caroline had only meant to stay there for a few weeks for a little breather from the large cities that she had been visiting but had come to enjoy the beach town there. At a local cafe, she had made a friend of the barista and had been subtly flirting with one of the daily’s that came in often, conveniently the same time she always went to grab her morning coffee on Saturdays. One day, she listened in on one of his orders; black coffee and the name he uttered to the barista was David. He was attractive in the average model-ish way. Dark brown hair, square jaw, calm eyes. David was nice and… normal. But, she knew she couldn’t get involved with him. But on the other hand, she couldn’t refuse to go on a date with him. There wasn’t a harm in that, right? 

She was a half-hour into the date when she’d gotten a call from Stefan. Normally, she would have ignored it but it was the second time in the span of ten minutes and she knew Stefan doesn’t call more than once unless it’s important. So, she took the call, apologizing to David before walking out of the restaurant. Apparently, a gaggle of werewolves found themselves in Mystic Falls, something about Damon threatening the alpha right before a full moon. When Stefan had explained it, she was confused about why they were calling her, she was thousands of miles away. Then it clicked. Damon got bit and he needed a cure. And her friends knew that she had a personal connection to the cure. Caroline was so close to telling Damon that if he wanted the cure to a werewolf bite, he should have to go to Klaus’ door to beg for it himself, but she knew Klaus wouldn’t budge. In fact, it was probably even a low chance for her to convince him to hand it over to Damon, of all people. 

So, what was she doing here? In New Orleans? Saving one of her friends. 

A pair of rushed footsteps took her out of her musings. Raising her head, she caught sight of a boy. Light brown hair that was in a fringe up style haircut, slim build, maybe in his late teens. He was jogging down a pair of stairs in the courtyard, looking down at his phone as he did so. Sensing her presence, he looked up to see her, pausing for a second before realizing he was still in the rain. He took a few steps to be under the roof, his head tilting as his blue eyes inspected her. 

A similar smirk graced his lips. “If you’re here for Rebekah, you just missed her. Took a flight out to Florence an hour ago.” Something about this boy was familiar. The facial structure, his eyes.

When Klaus had left for New Orleans all those years back, it had been for some sort of rising against him that turned out to be a pregnant girl. Caroline had gotten all the backstory from Tyler in a more biased version but basically, Klaus had slept with Hayley, getting her pregnant. Then, he’d apparently accepted it, having a kid. Klaus had a child. A kid.

He had a kid. This boy was Klaus’ son. The hair, the face, the eyes, the smirk. 

Caroline faltered for a moment before catching herself and casting him a small smile. “Do you flirt with all of Rebekah’s friends?”

He laughs softly. “Only the really pretty ones.” 

“Trenton.” A voice calls, an all too familiar voice. 

Looking across the courtyard, she spots the owner of that voice. He looked the same as always, black jeans, long sleeve Henley, boots, blonde hair subtly pushed up. The Original’s eyes were first trained on his son but picked up on the other presence in the room, looking at her. They widened and dilated a hair before returning to normal, smirk growing on his face. 

The boy sighs, shoulders drooping in a defeated manner. His jaw tightening before turning around to face his father.

“Sneaking out, again?” Klaus walks through the courtyard, ignoring the rain as it dampened his hair, before pausing once under shelter and out of the rain. 

Trenton clears his throat, glancing towards Caroline then to his father. “I was, uh, I heard someone come in. Thought I’d greet our guest.” Caroline had to give it to him, the boy was quick on his feet and used similar tactics as his father did; charm and deviation. 

It was extremely odd and very interesting to watch Klaus act a little fatherly, but not too surprising. He seemed to instinctively have the trait, unlike a lot of human men. He had the capacity to be mature, elegantly answer hard questions, entertain someone with stories of the past, and he knew what the image of a bad father was, surely making sure he was the exact opposite. Caroline could only imagine that his artistic abilities had come into play in the early years of Trenton’s life. But, just seeing both of them, seeing alike they were, was intriguing. If someone hadn’t known that the two weren’t supernatural, they’d most likely assume Klaus to be Trenton’s elder brother. Although, when Caroline saw them, she could clearly see a father with his son. May it be the wisdom and centuries of age in Klaus’ eyes or his mature style in clothing, he looked old enough possibly be Trenton’s father. 

Klaus arches an eyebrow in disbelief. “I’d believe that if it weren’t for you prattling on to Rebekah about going to some high school, alcohol-filled gathering. One, in which, I profusely refuse you acceptance to be a part of.”

“You have to be kidding.” Trenton scoffs, saying in that basic teenage-y way. “I’m not some human that’s gonna get wasted easily. I’m a hybrid.”

The Original’s eyes turn serious, indicating that his decision was final. “You prate on about being a hybrid, but have yet to learn to control your bloodlust in densely crowded areas without me or my siblings by your side. I will not risk the local’s lives nor my standing on the city council for you to have one alcohol-fazed night.” Trenton rolls his eyes and Klaus takes a step forward, now intimidating the boy. “We have an assortment of liquor here. If you wish to drink, it will be within these walls. Am I understood?”

“Why can’t-,”

“Trenton, am I understood?” Klaus interrupts, voice low. 

It takes a few seconds, but eventually, Trenton bites his tongue and gives his father a curt nod. The boys eyes were filled with aggravation and disappointment, she was sure Klaus saw it and understood that Trenton was hoping to have a little fun tonight. Klaus’ eyes softened as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“You’re lucky that I don’t plan to tell Elijah about your little scheme. You know how much he values your education. He’d be quite displeased to hear you were planning to stay out late on a school night.” A small smile graced Klaus’ lips as Trenton looked up to him. “Perhaps, even make you re-read that dreadful play, Hamlet.”

Klaus' words seem to make the boy puff out a laugh and inch a smile on his lips. “Thanks, for not telling Uncle ‘lijah.”

“Now, go on. I have a few words to exchange with our guest.”

Trenton nods and then glances to Caroline with an awkward smile. “Night.” He says before turning around and jogging through the rain-filled courtyard and up the stairs. Both Caroline and Klaus watch as he disappears into one of the second-story hallways.

After a moment, Klaus turns back to Caroline with a wide smirk. 

“This is quite a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you for nearly another decade and a half.”

She sighs, feeling the weight of his words and the intenseness that his eyes bore. “I’m not here for that.” Her voice a little too soft, the subject weighing on her a little bit more than she thought it would. Klaus recognizes her now uncomfortable stance and raises his arm in the direction to a set of french doors, a fancy ‘M’ insignia on both. 

“Then, perhaps we should take this conversation somewhere more private, rather than the courtyard?” He suggests and Caroline nods, thankful that he can still read on some of her subtle hints. 

Klaus leads her through the double doors and invites her to make herself comfortable in the living area. As Klaus went to pour them both drinks, she looked around the magnificent room that she was in. Two expensive looking, brown leather, sofas sat across from each other, a fireplace on the back wall, fancy chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and a mini-bar where Klaus was pouring their drinks. 

Before she knew it, Klaus had placed the drinks down on the coffee table by her legs and was now behind her, reaching for her wet jacket. “May I?”

She nods and shrugs the jacket off. He takes it, walking over to one of the stools near the mini-bar, and hanging it on the back of it. 

“I’m sorry for catching you at a bad time and so late at night.” She apologizes and he shakes his head. 

“No need for apologies, love. I’d gladly make time for you.” He says, sitting down on the sofa, taking his drink in hand. Caroline also sits, not yet picking up her drink. 

His eyes seem to analyze her and take in every detail that he could read off of her, trying to put together pieces in his head. His familiar mechanism and habits gave her a sense of reassurance that he hadn’t changed that much. She could clearly see the wheels turning in his head as he thought of situations as to why she was here, sitting on his couch in his New Orleans home on a very late Thursday night, a rainy one at that. Klaus must have caught her biting her lip because his intense gaze turned into concern. “You seem vexed, what’s happened?”

She swallows and looks away from him. “Damon ran into some werewolves.”

Klaus leans back as he huffs out a laugh. “And I imagine he is now sporting quite a nasty werewolf bite.” The Original’s amusement is not lost on Caroline, she knows how much he dislikes the eldest Salvatore brother, but that is why she was here. Now, he knows her reason for coming to New Orleans. 

When his expression showed a hint of disappointment, she felt utterly horrible. It was her that told him that she didn’t want him in her life, it was her that said that he needed to leave and to never come back. Now, she’s intentionally inserting herself back into his life just to leave again. Caroline couldn’t imagine what he would be feeling. Anger, disappointment? “Thus, you need my blood.” He utters, taking a thoughtful sip of his drink. 

“Yes.” She answers almost guiltily, her heart heavy. 

There’s a moment of silence where neither of them speaks. Klaus seems to ponder his situation as he runs the side of his index finger along his bottom lip in thought. For a moment, Caroline thought that he was going to turn her down, tell her that he wasn’t going to help her and that she had to leave, but that changed when he sighed. Placing his glass of amber liquor down on the coffee table, he stood from his seat and fished his sleek black iPhone from his back pocket. 

Klaus tapped a few times before pulling the cellphone to his ear and turning so his back was to her. 

“Joshua, do come by the Compound, I have a proposition for you.” He states quickly and then ends the call after he received a reply to his request. 

Pushing the iPhone into his back pocket, he turned back around without a glance to her and headed for the mini-bar. From Caroline’s perspective, he seemed a little tense but not angry, although she could be wrong. “Klaus…,” she begins as she gets up from her spot on the sofa and takes a few strides towards where he walks behind the counter, taking out a small vial and cork from underneath. Within an instant, he had already bit into his wrist, his blood now dripping down into the vial. His eyes wander up to hers when he comes out from behind the mini-bar. 

Caroline blinks, confused., sure that he was set on not giving his blood to her. In fact, she’s even more surprised that he hadn’t even tried to negotiate with her to have something to gain for his blood. “You’re not asking for anything in return? Won’t even try to negotiate with me?” She asks, clearly perplexed by  his actions. 

Klaus sighs. “I’ve come to realize that by negotiating between lives and the opportunity to have time spent with you, it hadn’t shown my understanding of the weight of the negotiations that I was making. And I have also come to realize that,” he takes a pause and Caroline swallows as he pushes the cork into the filled vial. His eyes stayed trained onto her as he pushed the vial into his front pocket of his jeans before stepping closer to her, “I don’t wish to negotiate our time together. Years ago, when I had coerced you to spend your time with me, it had given you a small glimpse of the better parts of myself but, yet, I’d be a fool not to notice the burden you had felt to be there in those moments.”

Klaus takes a cautious step forward, analyzing if she would shy away from him or not. When she stayed still, he gently placed his hands on the sides of her shoulders, the heat from his palms radiating like beacons through her clothing and into her skin. 

“Caroline, I don’t wish for you to feel burdened or obligated, by my actions, to spend time with me. It is your choice from now on, and it always will be.”

Her heart lurched in her ribcage and a flutter began in her stomach. His smooth voice, the eloquently and thoughtfully spoken words hitting her hard. Caroline’s thoughts swirled for a moment. Those two sentences that he had just spoken were not just talking about her feelings burdened to spend time with him, no. There was an undertone that she had caught. He didn’t want her to feel obligated to go to him, to be with him. In all honesty, it’s quite the sentiment. It shows her how much he has changed or, rather, bettered himself. This also tells her that he had been thinking a lot about their past and the wrong turns that he had taken to have an opportunity to win her over. 

And then, she remembers that he’s still waiting for her response. His eyes had begun to shift, analyzing her’s carefully and taking in the information that they bore. 

She gives him a reassuring smile. “I don’t feel obligated or burdened to spend time with you. Not anymore.”

His head tilts in that impossibly cute way that it does and smirks.

A pair of footsteps interrupt them, echoing through the hallway. Klaus lifts his head and looks over her shoulder towards the two french doors that had just opened. Caroline pulls away from Klaus’ warm hands and turns to see who had entered. 

“Joshua.” He greets a dark haired vampire that physically looks like he’s in his mid-twenties. 

“Well, I’m here. A little if-y about this whole ‘proposition’ thing though.”

Klaus smiles as if he knew something the other two vampires didn’t. “Yes, about that.” He begins, producing the vial of his blood from his jeans pocket. “Take this, carefully would you, to a small town in Virginia.” 

Josh furrows his eyebrows in suspicion, looking at the vial of blood like it was poisonous. “Why would I do that for you? Can’t you have one of your lackeys do it for you?” 

“Well, young Joshua,” Klaus begins as he takes a few steps closer towards the young vampire, “under these circumstances, it is precedent that this gets delivered in an expeditious manner, thus is the reason I present you with a proposal.” 

Caroline watches as Klaus takes another step closer to Josh, almost invading his personal space as he speaks. “Do this for me, and I will not only make an effort to look past your misdoings towards my family, but as well, that of your friend, Davina Claire.”

Klaus’ proposition clearly had struck a chord with Joshua, making him swallow in nervousness. Caroline could see how the boy’s mind was churning in thought, considering certain possibilities. After a few, long, seconds, Josh plucks the vial from Klaus’ fingers. The Original doesn’t make an effort to contain his satisfied smirk as Joshua looks at him with a hint of caution. “Fine.” Josh utters. 

“Brilliant. I’ll contact you with the necessary information.” 

Joshua sighs and takes his leave.

Once the vampire is gone, Klaus turns to Caroline, swiping his tongue over his lips with a smirk screaming how satisfied he was in getting his way. His eyes did that little thing that they always did when he’d look at her; his eyes starting at her feet and then moving up her whole frame, taking in very detail as if it’s the last time he’d be able to do so. When his eyes connected with her’s, his blue orbs seemed to sparkle. A small shiver went down her spine at the intensity of his gaze. 

“You didn’t have to do that. I could’ve just taken it back myself.” 

His eyebrow arches. “Well, I’ve already set up for a plane to take off from Louis Armstrong International in a half hour. Your friends should have the cure in no later than four hours.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow, knowing there was something he was not telling her. Klaus looks away from her almost bashfully and then returns his gaze towards her. “I, as well, was hoping you’d like to take one of our rooms.”

She’s a little confused at first, not understanding what he had meant by ‘taking a room’. “I’m sure you’ve had quite a journey here. A flight from the Commonwealth of The Bahamas and then a longer drive to New Orleans. I can only assume you’re exhausted and it’d be terribly unmannerly of me to not offer you hospitality.” He explains, tilting his head. “Perhaps, it’d give you time to recuperate and maybe… take in a few sights in the morning.”

His tone is hopeful, filled with possibility. She’d be lying to say that his behavior and words haven’t been a little tempting. Everything from the last few minutes has only shown her that Klaus is the same man that he’s always been. She wasn’t really expecting different, but deep down she had an idea that maybe he’d grown up a bit. This, right here, proves that he has. The man before would have threatened Josh instead of negotiating and he would have not had given up his blood so easily without a fuss. Would it really be such a bad thing to stay the night, in a different room than him? It’s not as if she’d be sleeping with him. Plus, it’d be for only one night.

“I’m not sure.” She trails off, still debating the decision in her head. 

“I’ll be sure to make it worth your while.” He states with a grin, knowing gleam in his eyes. 

Caroline laughs, the air in the room now becoming a little lighter. “I’m sure you would.”

He raises his eyebrows for a moment, silently asking her for an answer. She bites her bottom lip timidly. “One night wouldn’t hurt.” She states and a wide smirk grows on his lips, showing his thorough satisfaction. 

“Well, then. Shall I show you to a room?”

She nods, not finding the right words to say in that moment. He immediately begins to walk towards the french doors that they had entered in and opens them wide for her to pass through. It didn’t take long for them to bound up the stairs to the second story and then travel down a long corridor where a series of doors were on each side. Klaus, then, opened a mahogany door, revealing a gorgeously decorated room with a queen bed, antique dresser, small desk with a chair, and a door that lead to an adjacent bathroom. He’d been thorough in explaining the certain accommodations of her room and how his room is only a few doors down. After, he had left her to look around to gather her some clothing. When he’d come back, he’d placed a pile of clothes on the end of the bed. 

“I’ve procured most of these from Hayley. I’d doubt she’d mind much and I assumed you’d be closer to size with her rather than Rebekah. And my sister has a nasty habit of killing whoever touches her belongings.” Klaus states as he turns towards her.

She smiles at him. Her thoughts going past the topic of clothing. “How’d you know I was in The Bahamas?”

“I’ve kept tabs.” He mutters a little playfully, knowing that Caroline wouldn’t approve. She gives him an equally playful look and then rolls her eyes. 

“Of course, you have.”

Klaus chuckles as she goes to sit down on the end of the bed. He does as well, making sure to keep a foot’s distance away from her to make sure she stays comfortable and not overwhelmed by his presence. “Tell me, now that you’ve begun to stray from that desperately small town, how is it? Exploring the unknown?” 

Caroline hesitates for a moment, thinking about her experiences in the past decade and a half of exploring. They’d mostly been pleasant but nothing extraordinary. Yes, she’d been extremely impressed by the culture, architecture and environment, but it wasn’t as exciting as she had ever hoped or imagined. Although, she imagines that’s because she didn’t have anyone to explore it with. In the beginning she had thought Stefan may have joined her, but he’d been too swept up with a few problems in Mystic Falls and trying to make his brother into a ‘better man’. Like that would ever happen unless it was by Damon’s own incentive. Elena and Bonnie were too wrapped up in college and in their own love lives as it was, so that was a clear ‘no’. So, that just left herself. After her mother died, she’d needed a break and took the opportunity to branch off a little. In the long run, it has paid off. She’d met a few people here and there, as well as giving her a new perspective of the world. 

“It was kind of a quick decision. At first, I wanted to stay in the States and just London but the rest of Western Europe was too tempting to pass up.” She states and Klaus seems pleasantly pleased. “But, I kinda wanted to go somewhere hot, so I ended up in The Bahamas.”

“I imagine you enjoyed it there?”

She nods.

“And you?” 

Klaus tilts his head in interest to her question. “What of me?” He asks, genuinely satisfied that she was interested in how his life had been going. 

“Well, I was a little surprised that you were still in New Orleans. I expected you to move on. I didn’t suspect you as a person that stays in one place for long.” 

He smirks. She is, generally, correct. “I’d quite a bit of business to take care of here that took a little longer than I had anticipated and raising a child was one of the things I was most definitely not expecting.”

“I’m sure changing diapers didn’t fit so well into your plans for world domination, huh?” She asks teasingly, giving him a radiant smile.

Klaus chuckles, amused and glad that her penchant for over-exaggeration hasn’t changed. He’d always enjoyed the innocence within her and the light she projected off of herself and onto others. 

“You’d be correct.”

He smirked and they’d fallen into a silence. Caroline suddenly felt heated under his gaze, the intensity of it not lessening but a gracefulness communicating through those beautiful, blue orbs. 

In all reality, he hadn't changed that much. Of course, she can see that he’d become less prone to using violence as a first resort, but the way he regarded her was the same. He still looked at her with that look in his eyes that just screamed that he knew exactly what she was thinking. In the beginning, it was a little scary, she’ll admit, that he knew more about her than he let on. Although, after all this time, she’s come to realize that it’s not necessarily the worst thing. 

He understood her. But, it wasn’t just a one-way street. She knew him quite well, too. A decade ago, she would have said that she knew exactly the man he was, a monster. She’d pegged him for a man that had no heart. How wrong she was. After some time, she’s noticed that all the horrible things that he had done were because he cared. He’d always been pinned as the enemy, although sometimes he genuinely did something bad to get the advantage, but that wasn’t strictly true. Klaus was an extremely complicated man. He has many sides of him and has an extremely dark past that comes with them. His father brutally abused him, his mother locked half of himself off for spite, his siblings cast him off for trying to protect them. In fact, she’d condemned him and slung harsh words at him just because she didn’t truly understand his real intentions behind his actions. 

Now, she realizes him for the man that he was. He was an abused son, an abandoned brother, a misunderstood friend, a passionate artist, a good father. 

“Well, I’ll leave you to settle and call your friends. I’d rather not have them thinking I’d taken you against your will and have to deal with them knocking down my door. I’ve just gotten it re-painted.” 

His tone is light-hearted and filled with playfulness. Caroline smiles again as he stands from the bed, walking towards the door.

“Goodnight.” 

He pauses at the door and looks over his shoulder with a smirk.

“Goodnight, love.”

[vminity21]

Whimsical | knj

Pairing: Student!Namjoon x female!reader

Genre: fluff/mildangst

Word Count: 4,788

Warning(s): mild language use, slight angst involving the struggles of adulting, tooth rotting fluff, Rating: pg

Summary: Living paycheck to paycheck after moving to Gyeongju has done nothing but plague a bundle of stress upon you. Deciding to take a stroll where the cherry blossoms abundantly bloom, you did not expect to run into an acquaintance of the past; and you definitely did not expect the measure he takes to make sure your burdens are lifted off your shoulders. 

“What do you mean it costs this much?” When shock mingling with frustration forms into an exasperated sigh, your hand rakes through your hair in disbelief portraying the definition of stress in its purest authenticity. Your fingers that are curled around the auto insurance bill leave small indents behind when the dreaded piece of paper is now being placed upon the table. “Damnit,” tears flood your eyes while your palms shadow over your cheeks. You have already set money aside to save for the rent for your apartment along with your car payment as well as savings toward your electricity cost. Today, the discovery of your current expense being fifty more dollars than usual means that, yet another week goes by with surviving off the little groceries you have left stored in your pantry.

Shoving out of your jacket, the light air of spring has begun, and for once, you would like to appreciate nature without the anxious feeling of life overwhelming your mind. Eyes scanning the vacancy of your apartment, loneliness returns, and the yearn to hear your mother’s voice has never felt so painful. It has only been six months since you moved hours away for a job offer that you felt would be a good opportunity to further you into the career you have sought for. But, never in your existence did you dream that living paycheck to paycheck could bring so much misery, and hardly being able to speak to your mother has been weighing heavy on your conscious, but your determination to make her proud is what matters to you the most.

The jingle of your keys resonates the living room congruent with the shift of your feet wiggling into your tennis shoes. If there is anywhere you want to be right now, it’s not in this apartment, not near the opened envelopes of woe, not near your bedroom that reminds you of your exhaustion, and not near the refrigerator that is empty of any content that can fill your tummy. The drive to the local park flourishing with pinks and whites of cherry blossoms comes into view quicker than you anticipate, and with schools being in session, the area is not as crowded as it would be on the weekends. Petals float in the wind, swooping to the ground to paint the cement with color- your footsteps slow when the tunnel of tree branches exuberates perfumes of the florets to ease your tense frame.

You return to work tomorrow, but gratefully there is plenty of hours left in the day to explore, and with the solace of the atmosphere, it feels nice to escape from the turmoil of watching your paycheck disappear in order to live. A bench appears further into the path, mahogany tint with protruding sunlight breaking through the trees. Memories of what you consider your ‘past life’ churns with images of times where your grandfather shared stories of his childhood speaking lines of wisdom that encouraged you to be the person that you will and have become. He was the first soul to bring you to a park when you were younger, giving you a tour of what all there was to see- your almond eyes widened with wonder, gripping his hand while you would point out all the sights.

You miss those days more than you will profess, wishing you can relive them especially with what you have been enduring since your move. Gaze dropping to your shoes, hands in pockets- you gasp in surprise when your shoulder meets the figure of someone walking from the opposite direction,

“I’m sorry!” Panic is etched in your voice while you swiftly bow, a blush creeping to your cheeks in embarrassment when your steps quicken along the path. The tone belongs to a man who apologizes in return, yet your eyes keep their focus away from him; you’re very timid, something you’ve struggled with since the day you were born, and it’s hard enough to face your fears as it is, and uncertain on if the stranger would have been angry with you, you find it best to pretend it never happened. At least here, you feel safe alongside nature, and when the familiar sound of a rippling lake perks your auditory senses, a small tug of relief pulls at the corner of your lips, and the earlier chagrin of interrupting someone on their tread will no longer disturb your meditation.

 Something seems familiar about this place. Blusterous winds streaming through strands of your hair that tickle your shoulders beneath the blinding rays of the sun where grass pokes at your legs that are exposed from the end of your dress wrinkled upon your thighs. Cumulus clouds keep their distance from the beams flickering immensely within the blanket of blue, brightening the vibrancy of yellow flowers swaying beside stems of rubicund leaflets enhancing the field in iridescent whispers of delicacy.

You have seen this all before somewhere in the slumbers of imagination where your heart aches for peace such as this. Steeps of ornate mountains encompass the field in lavender shades collecting the finishing touches of scenery your dreams desire. But, there is something different. Rather, the sense that you are alone diminishes which prompts your vision to parade the panorama of daylight until a figure enters a distance ahead of you. A pile of wispy, light hair clears to reveal a man, eyes closed- the backs of his hands posed upon his knees leading to his fingers aimed upward mirroring the position you are in. How he seems so close when he is far away startles you even while you memorize the sight of his thick lips lying in a straight line of content.

Your head tilts in profound concentration of where you may have seen him- where you may have known him, but you come up empty, for here in this world of tranquility, you have not seen him here before. There is a strange ponder of wanting to rise to your feet, but you lean forward instead, observing the slow rise and fall of his chest where he breathes in and out deeply. He is clothed in white, darkening his already tanned skin- your stare tracing from his neck to see his face once more, and when your lids squint to study him,

He opens his eyes-

“Ma’am? Ma’am,” the echo of a calm voice breaks through enough to awaken your bleary eyes, “Ma’am, are you okay?” Drool gathered at the corner of your mouth you swipe with the hem of your sleeve; your eyes are sensitive from how bright it is outside, and it takes a moment for them to adjust once you turn your head gradually in order to remember where you are. The flowing trickles of water, the soreness of your back scratching from the log of a tree, and the soft squeeze of a large hand on your shoulder alarms you enough to realize you fell asleep while reminiscing at the lake.

You refrain from cursing under your breath when nerves shoot through your veins, gathering yourself enough to look at whoever is hovering above you. Stuttering to find words, you weakly accept the strong hand offered to you to help you up. Concern is etched in the shape of brown irises reading your stare while nostalgia fogs your brain. “Do I- do I know you?” Your voice is hardly a murmur, but he timidly steps away, the familiarity of his face bringing a quiet gasp to your parting lips.

“We, uh, we um, ran into each other earlier,”

“Oh no,” shame shudders your shoulders when you press your forehead into your palm to lightly rub your eyes, “God, I’m so sorry-”

“No, no it’s okay! Really, it’s okay. It was an accident-”

“I should have watched where I was going-”

“Well, I should have, too.”

With a creased forehead, your body is still recovering from your unexpected nap, and you’re trying to feign bravery to return your eyes to the stranger whose hair is hidden within a black beanie, yet blonde tufts brush the tips of his ears. Dimples illuminate his rising cheeks from the tiny grin embellishing his expression, and dialogue disappears from your tongue at the noticing of how exquisite he is.

“Kim Namjoon,” his large hand swallows yours as it did minutes ago, but this time in a polite shake of greeting.

“I’m [Y/N],” you nod seeing his grin widen to cause a silent sweep of relief to your system.

“Wait a minute,” your eyelids enlarge from the recognition now embracing your thoughts. Flashbacks from high school smother you immediately when the images of a quiet persona who sauntered the hallways with the intelligence of an Einstein clicks on a lightbulb subconsciously. “I do know you, we-” wetting your lips, you stammer in fear of being wrong, “We went to the same grade school. You- you beat me at the math competition! Wh- what brings you to Gyeongju?”

“College,” his voice is shaky for you to jolt at the realization that you are still shaking his hand- roughly you might add, awkwardly releasing to return your limb to your side. It’s already humiliating enough to stand before him after plummeting into his side when first arriving to this destination, to then making a fool of yourself sleeping in front of him to also awaken to ruin all ounce of potential conversation you could have had. Preparing yourself for the worst, you wince, wishing you could slip under the covers of your bedroom to hide away forever. “What about you? Are you attending University here, too?”

“I- erm, about that-” There is not a way for you to explain, because there isn’t much to say other than your heart belonged to another career path. “I received a job offer here. One that I thought would provide good benefits than my original plan, but it’s not what I expected,” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow igniting a surge in frantic slews of sentences from your mouth, “I mean, I love it. I really do, it’s- it’s what I love to do, but I guess- I want- I want more from it. But I don’t know how to- I-” Warm chuckles leave his lips that halts your rambling in a heartbeat, “I talk way too much, I’m sorry-”

“You’re not talking too much. You’re fine, I promise.” a brief spark settles a reminder of your budding attraction toward him that your chest heats with a dark hue of red; your arms slide to cross over your chest in an attempt at hugging yourself- timorously beaming up at him to search his tender gaze. “You know, if you’re up for it, there’s a restaurant not too far from here that has the best pasta I’ve ever had,” Namjoon’s fingers disappear into the pockets of his jeans- nervously rocking on his heels because after all these years he never thought he would run into anyone he once acquainted with in his younger days, but here you are, standing before him in all your glory. You were someone he admired from afar who treated him as though he was part of the team versus an outcast as others preferred him to be. But you were different. You never saw anyone as below you, and though the pair of you never blossomed into a friendship, you at least treated him with kindness despite the rumors pupils whispered in the foyers. “I already planned on going there today actually-”

“I’d love to!” Your fingertips shut your lips from the excitement you didn’t mean to interrupt him with, “I mean, I uh, I’d- I’d like that very much, thank you,”

It’s strange how the imagination of a world can seem so real, and the awareness of how close he is bringing flutters of butterflies within your stomach while your ears tune in to the scuffling sounds of your footsteps prodding along the route. No matter how hard you contemplate, whatever vision you had at the lake isn’t coming to you, but the consistent feeling that you’re experiencing brings the suspicion that whatever you dreamt is now becoming a reality. 

 The air is calmed in a manner that reflects a pleasant silence where your focus happens to remain on the cold mush of fibrous moss gathering between your fingers. Eyes are closed momentarily yet the hint of the sun is evident, but the source of your confusion isn’t from the odd wonder of why your hands are gripping the earth, instead, it is for the question of why your back is pressed to the ground as though you have fallen into slumber.

Blinking open to the blue of the sky, you are paused for only a mere moment to discover this time, sparse altocumulus clouds entering your vision enough to ease yourself to sit up. Freeing your digits from what you see to be a deep shade of magenta mingled with numerous hues of green festooning across the land, it is astonishing the beauty your vision is encountering prompting you to whirl your head in every direction to take in the glacier gray of the mountains you observe to be cratering a lapis glow of a lake.

The familiarity of a reminiscent involving a body of water decides to accompany your mind, but the difference between your memory of what you assume regards to reality, is that what you are gazing upon now, is nothing but magical. In wondrous awe, you find yourself standing, taking a slow bare foot forward, just to be halted when the feel of something is settled around your head. Furrowed eyebrows, you lightly tap along what feels to be numerous twigs tangled together with stems of bloomed petals. You raise your other hand to retrieve the item, glance widening at the myriad of dancing colors in the form of flowers embellishing what looks to be what one would call a crown.

Has it been there all along?

An inkling to turn around urges you to do so, lips parted in a gasp though not one sound escapes. He stands before you, the man from a preceding ponder, dressed in white, angelically beaming from head to toe, imitating the enchanting resonation of the atmosphere, causing you to long for whatever bliss he has within his touch. Did he give this to you?

Tenderly, he reaches to place his fingertips beneath the flower crown where your heart leaps at the faint brush of his skin. Lifting it ever so steadily, he returns to set the emblem where it belongs, to the empress of his heart, of his universe, completing you in all entirety. Your eyes flicker between his in suppressed doubt; is this real? You are so enveloped in the amiability of his gape, your palms extend to fold along his shoulders, leading his hand to rest at the side of your neck. He is reading your soul as much as you are trying to decipher his, but there is a connection that no other will ever be able to gain from you as much as him.

The nearness of him is what you are now in concentration of, leaning closer, waiting for what you are hoping for-

Namjoon’s long frame slides upon the plaid picnic blanket, abdomen first, while he folds his arms to where he rests his cheek, “I’m feeling the weight of that essay from last night,”

“And, you still turned it in late,” you tease, munching on a snack while he throws a playful side glance. It’s been a month since the reuniting, and the friendship has become exactly what you have been needing. Unfortunately, finances have still been a heavy burden, but at least you have found an ally in Gyeongju who is just as excited to see you as you are him.

“I mean I was pretty distracted,”

Scoffing, you smack his shoulder lightly with the back of your hand, “That video of that kitten was so cute, and you know it,”

“I never said it wasn’t cute,” the way his lips break into the widest smile, his eyes squinting in the way they do that then reveals his dimples; as much as you’d like to deny the way your heart feels a sense of longing, you mask it quite effortlessly.

“You literally giggled so much, I thought you were going to pee,” breathy laughter escapes him prompting him to bury his head into his arms, your gaze never leaving his shaking shoulders. “Well, it’s true!” Moments such as these bring a joy you are thankful exists, but little does Namjoon know, or so you assume, that once you step into your apartment to be reminded of how little you have moneywise, the depression seeps in. It is hard enough to work every day as hard as you do, just to watch your paycheck subtract away right before your eyes with each bill. It is something you haven’t necessarily opened about, because you just don’t know how. And, the last thing you need is for someone to offer help that you know they may not have.

“That’s only happened one time!” He exclaims, him shifting to lean more on his side so he can peer up at you. This area particularly is further within the park where there are not as many trees, which gives enough space to lay out a blanket and view the scenery. Sunshine brightens the atmosphere as well as warming your skin, and though you’re continuing to cackle with Namjoon, you slide until you are upon your back, using your arm to shade some of the sunlight. One perk regarding the park is it’s free, which is why you always ask to come here when hanging out, and you refuse to let Namjoon pay a dime for anything, not even a candy bar.

The nearness of his body does not heighten your senses until you turn to look at him, and that’s when you melt wishing nothing more than to kiss him. Which explains the dreams you’ve been having lately. Laughter has ceased for the time being, instead the conversation moves into a different subject, one you hoped wouldn’t happen, but considering your avoidance of going to many places, and the embarrassment of Namjoon seeing the emptiness of your kitchen one too many times, the paranoia of him catching on to why you have been slightly more stressed than usual may enter his suspicions.

“Have you been okay?” By the tone of his voice, you can tell right away he is aware of something. But, how can you tell him you are fine, when you are nowhere near one hundred percent. You definitely feel that way when with him, because he makes you forget about the reality at home, but gives you a time to escape, a time to embrace the joy he provides you every chance he gets. Should you tell him the truth? “[Y/N], I never mentioned this before just because I figured it was just coincidence, but when was the last time you’ve gotten groceries? Like, actual groceries,”

“Ramen is groceries,”

“I-” Namjoon pauses, “What I mean is, more than just ramen noodle cups and stale chips,”

“Maybe that’s how I like my chips. Corny and stale,”

“That sounds-”

“Listen,” you lift an index finger, “if vegetables and fruits would last longer than a week, I totally wouldn’t feel like I’m wasting money.”

“You know if you need anything, I’m here for you,” his words nearly bring you to tears, leading you to turn your head in the opposite direction to avoid his concerned expression. He knows you are making excuses at this point and of course, he is not entirely sure of why, but he may be able to guess correctly if he tried.

“I don’t need anything, I promise I’m fine,” your reply is soft, but loud enough for him to hear. Though you can’t see it, Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow, him picking at his fingertips while in deep concentration. He is learning that you, stubbornly, are most definitely not going to let him help in any way, but unbeknownst to you, is that he will stop at nothing to make sure you are okay no matter what.

“Look at me,” your heart skips a beat immediately when you slowly return to where he is within your glimpse, his thumb reaching to brush your bottom lip where he inches much closer than you anticipated. All you know, is that if he reads every word that your mind is screaming, your heart may burst out of your chest. Yearning for his kiss, he is close enough to where his breath sweeps your chin, “[Y/N], really, if there is anything at all that you absolutely need, please know I will do anything for you,”

Your fingers bundle into the collar of his shirt absentmindedly, letting his forehead press upon yours before you dare to close the gap you are so anxiously wanting to do. His thumb now strokes your cheek, tickling your skin to the point you feel breathless.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whisper, a hushed tear dropping onto your cheek before he swipes it away.

“I just want you to be okay,”

“I am,” you try your best to sound reassuring, “Joon, I promise you I am,”

“Okay,” he whispers, and even then, you have no idea the best that is yet to come.

Sleeping cherry blossoms encircle you save for the entrance of a tunnel gleaming piercingly bright in the distance that seems so close yet so far out of reach. The iridescent shades of the petals glitter in preparation for what is to come, but your focus solely remains on the escape ahead into a world you have always dreamed of. Or is this the world you have always dreamed of? Scents of the florets waft past your nose in a way to ease you, and the lingering thought of the man clothed in white shadows the crevices of your conscious. Just the mere reminisce of him prompts his appearance and as he stands behind you in all his glory, he knows the desire looming beneath your chest for the magic you crave.

His arms reach to link around you, chin nestling on your shoulder; there is no fear for he is the only being welcome in your world of serenity. Your hands smooth upon his folded arms that remain resting against your abdomen, and forever seems to be in the forefront of your mind. Spinning within his embrace, a subtle smirk graces his mouth while your hands glide to his chest, and finally after many dreams of pining, he leans in to close the gap- snatching your lips as softly as you have imagined causing the closed petals all around the pair of you to bloom endlessly, flourishing every ounce of space the two of you may have had a fraction before. The power is within his kiss, summoning the blossoms to awaken as they are meant to. The same as he is meant to be with you.

 “I miss you, too, Mom,” you smile into the phone, sifting through the mail you just checked, eyebrows furrowing when you feel as though something is missing. “Yeah- yeah, I have, I mean, yes mom, I may have a boyfriend,” you giggle, shaking your head at your persistent mother who has been dying to catch up with you since you moved. “I think- yeah, I think he may be who I’ve been waiting for,” when a knock at the door alerts you, you quickly bid your mom a farewell with the promise of calling her back tomorrow before you start work again.

Staring at the pile of mail, you wonder why the utility bill has not been sent. It is around the time that it should have arrived meaning you may need to take a short trip to the leasing office if Namjoon doesn’t mind. Giddily, you skip to look through the peephole to see him, standing tall with his slim fingers slipped into his pockets. Unlocking the door, you run a swift hand through your hair in an attempt to neaten the strands before opening the entrance. “Hey!” You breathe, gesturing for him to come in, and when the door closes, you leap into his embrace before smiling into a sweet kiss.

“Are you ready for today? The weather is beautiful out,”

“Beyond ready,” you kiss him again. The anticipation to explore another location involving nature is what you enjoy especially with someone who equally enjoys it as much as you. “But I must make a quick trip to the leasing office if that’s okay? I have Netflix if you want to chill for a bit- it shouldn’t take too long.”

Namjoon chuckles, leaning in to press a slow kiss to your lips, “Everything okay?”

“Mm yeah,” you reply in a daze, “I just haven’t received my utility bill yet and I’m concerned. Can you um, can you do that again? I may need the extra umph,”

Breathy laughter is interrupted when he kisses you again, and it takes everything in you to pull away, “Okay, I feel better now,”

“Good. Whatever it takes,”

As much as you would love to not have to pay any bills, you saunter across the road to where the leasing office lives, encompassed by sparse trees and a small swimming pool off to the side. You are happy to see Jung Hoseok, leaned on his desk, spectacles slid down his nose, and gaze distracted by whatever he is reading on the computer screen.

“Good morning,” you greet, Hoseok immediately looks to see who has walked in, gesturing with a smile toward a seat in front of his desk.

“How can I help you today?”

“Yes, um, I just went through my mail today and I realized I hadn’t received the utility bill for this month, so I wanted to check to make sure I didn’t miss anything,”

“Ah, yes, let me pull up your account here,” his fingers fly over the keyboard, the clicking noise being the only sound filling the space. “Hm, looks like it’s already been paid for.”

“Excuse me?” Confusion is evident within your voice as well as plastered upon your entire expression. “When did I? I paid it?”

“Mhm, as well as your rent for the rest of the year among all of your other bills. There’s enough money on your account to just automatically draft-”

“But I didn’t-”

“Well it says it right here,” he pokes the screen once.

“Are you able to see when the money was put in? I have no idea how-” The realization hits you suddenly prompting a small gasp.

“Er, is everything okay, Ms. [Y/N]?”

“Yeah,” you say quite breathlessly, gradually standing to your feet, the world spinning faster than you could have prepared for.

“I mean, I can ask my coworker, Taehyung if he knows anything. I got back from vacation today, so I may not have the answer for you-”

“No, no it’s okay. I- I think I know who is responsible. Thank you so much, Hoseok.”

“Anytime, dear!”

Being slightly dizzy while running is an interesting combo, but you make it to your apartment without tripping over your own two feet and you stand before the door, your chest heaving. The dreams you have been having- it all makes sense now. You wanted nothing more than a reason, or a miracle, to feel as if you were home, or where you belonged, and finally, it was given to you in the most unexpected way. When you came to Gyeongju, you had no idea that Namjoon would show up in your life and turn it into the most beautiful adventure you have ever had. You were willing to suffer through the bills if it meant being close to him, and how he figured out your hardship, you are uncertain- you always avoided the subject when it came to hardly having any money. Slowly stepping into your apartment, you click the door closed, Namjoon’s focus turning from the tv to you as he rises to his feet. You are speechless as you gaze at the man of your dreams. When he said he would do anything for you, you never imagined this.

“Whatever it takes?” You croak, hardly sure even now what to say. Namjoon will do anything to make you happy, and that is how you knew after getting to know him the past few months that you were wholeheartedly in love with him. You will spend the rest of your life trying to thank him no matter the circumstances, and as soon as his frame entangles with yours, he whispers,

“Whatever it takes.”