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dalchiid · 1 year

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 27

A story of obsession, fear, and lust. You're a maid whose Masters forbid you in meeting their guests for the night but your luck runs dry when you run into them and catch the attention of Lord Hoseok himself. He's smitten from the beginning and thus, your fate has been decided.

Pairing: Yandere Vampire Hoseok x Fem/AFAB Reader

Word Count: 6,951

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Possessive, Angst, Fear, Blood, Biting, Dub-Con, Eventual smut

Will add or remove warnings based on what's in each chapter.

I do not condone the behavior being exhibited in my work. This is solely for entertainment purposes and I hope if any of you are ever in a situation like this that you have the chance and ability to run away from it. Take care out there.

DO NOT copy, edit, or repost my work anywhere

Chapter 27 Warnings: Yandere, Possessive, Obsession, Angst

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When you wake up the next day you feel groggy. You hardly slept and now that everyone is slowly becoming active you've come to the realization of something. Hoseok's cousin is here. The Lady of Lumière. Jiyoo. You wonder if she's awake by now and if she's in search of you - in search of Yoongi. You hope she's still asleep for the sake of you two but if there's one thing you learned about yourself it's that you have terrible luck.

The arm around your waist reminds you of that terrible luck as your captor pulls you in closer to his front. Your back flushed against him. You feel the way his breathing pattern changes as he slowly comes to before he gives you a squeeze. His arm leaves you for a moment as he pushes your hair out of the way all so he could kiss the nape of your neck. You stiffen at the touch of his lips and roll onto your stomach now that he isn't holding you.

Hoseok let's out a drawn out yawn that had you yawning in tandem. When he sits up in bed you note his hair is a mess and recall how out of it he was during sleep. He snored a bit which he normally doesn't do but you could say he slept comfortably unlike you.

You go to sit up yourself before stretching. A few pops from your shoulder and back are heard and it makes you sigh in relief.

"Good morning, my love." Hoseok goes to lean in and place a kiss onto your cheek. "How are you feeling?"

You can only grunt in response.

He pouts a little. "Did you not sleep well?"

You shake your head no.

His hand comes up to massage the back of your neck. You hear him mumble "Poor baby" and you nearly roll your eyes at him. Afterwards, he stands up and stretches before looking your way with a smile.

"Let's get ready for breakfast."

He doesn't seem the slightest bit perturbed and it concerns you. Did he not feel the same agitation and fear as you knowing Jiyoo is here? Did he forget? When he sees your frown he mirrors it with one of his own.

"What's wrong," he asks.

You look off towards the side with a look of worry. "Did you forget?"

His ears perk up at the sound of your voice but it doesn't change the fact that he's frowning.

"About what, love?"

You sigh. "About your cousin. She's here."

It takes him a second to realize that you're speaking the truth and he mumbles "Fuck" under his breath.

"I'm so sorry Y/N. I did forget." He runs a hand through his messy hair. "Fuck," he says again.

You look down at your hands palm side up. They don't shake at the mention of Jiyoo but you know they will if you were to bump into her again.

Hoseok sighs as he comes over to your side of the bed. "Baby. Hey." He brings his hand up to your chin to tilt your head up at him. "We don't need to leave the room if you don't want to. I can send someone up to bring us our food."

It's your turn to sigh because you don't want to be locked in Hoseok's bedroom with him. You just want to leave and go wherever you want.

"Y/N." He tries to grab your attention again when you look off to the side.

"What about Yoongi," you question. "What would happen to Yoongi if your cousin bumps into him?"

To this Hoseok's brows raise high before his expression softens. "Yoongi has places to hide and he can send for food the way we can."

You shake your head. "It's not fair."

Hoseok purses his lips as he drops his hand from your chin. "Yoongi can handle himself for the most part unlike you."

You frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're human. One that has already been attacked by Jiyoo. Who's to say she won't try again?"

"I have you to protect me don't I? Yoongi doesnt."

Hoseok's lips part slightly at your words.

You wonder if you play your cards right that he'll hear you out. Maybe invite Yoongi back to his room so that you could see that he's safe from his cousin. Ever since you received the news last night you've been left with discomfort deep within the pit of your stomach. You're not only afraid of Jiyoo you're disgusted by her. You're worried not only for yourself but Yoongi.

It seems to get to Hoseok though because he sits by you before taking your hands.

"Of course you have me," he starts before sighing. "I can check in with Yoongi and see what he wants to do."

It brings you a little relief that he considers his brother this way. You hope it doesn't come to bite you in the ass in any way but for now you're comforted by Hoseok's words.

Hoseok squeezes your hands before standing up. He pulls you along with him and you know what he wants to do next.

"Let's wash up and then I'll call Yoongi. Okay?"

You nod your head before shutting yourself down. It's the only way you can stomach being domestic with him. Going completely numb when he takes from you what he wants.

He leads you towards the closet where he picks out his clothes and yours. You watch him do this before he lies the garments out on the bed. Yours a checkered skirt with a sleeveless turtleneck and his a pair of pin striped slacks and a short sleeved button-up.

When he turns around he looks directly into your eyes that are half-lidded. If he knows you've shut down he doesn't say. He only embraces you with a kiss to your lips before parting ways to grab your hand.

"Let's get ready."

It doesn't take long to ready yourselves. Only for a moment did your routine come to a pause when he initiated close contact in the shower so he could kiss your neck. Right where he scarred you. The kisses started off soft before he placed a particularly harsh nip on your flesh. You flinched but he pulled back before you could make a complaint.

In his room the two of you get dressed and you sit on the bed and wait for him to put on your boots. Normally you'd put on your own shoes but he decided he wanted to do it himself. Once he slips them on he kisses your right knee before standing up to hover over you.

"Thank you," he says.

You're about to question him for what but he beats you to it.

"For saying you have me to protect you."

Oh, you think.

"It means a lot to me to know you feel safe enough with me." He leans in to kiss your forehead.

You regret saying those words because he's clearly on cloud nine because of it. He feels wanted but you have to remind yourself that you did it for Yoongi. Not Hoseok.

He straightens out before heading over to his cellphone. He picks it up and dials a number. It's on speaker and you wait until you hear the gravelly voice of Yoongi.

"Hey, bro." Hoseok says.

Yoongi just hums in acknowledgement.

"Do you have any plans for the day?"

"You mean besides hiding from you know who? No not really."

Hoseok looks at you and smiles before speaking. "Well you're welcome to join Y/N and me. We're trying to stay out of Jiyoo's way ourselves. We're going to have someone bring up our breakfast. Come join us."

There's no response. You think Yoongi might have fallen back to sleep but he sucks his teeth before humming.

"I'll pass."

Your brows furrow in concern as your lips turn into a frown. Hoseok takes note of it and so he tries again.

"What do you plan to do then?"

Yoongi sighs and it sounds like he's stretching before answering. "I don't want to get between you and Y/N."

Hoseok raises his brow despite knowing his brother can't see it. "I don't see how you hanging out with us will be considered you getting in between us." He pauses. "Just letting you know it was Y/N's idea to have you over."

"Oh?" Yoongi is silent as he mulls over Hoseok's words.

You hope he will change his mind. You don't like the idea of him being left alone.

Yoongi hums but his next words disappoint you.

"I'll still pass. If push comes to shove I'll spend some time with you both. For now though I'll hang tight in my room."

You visibly deflate before Hoseok and he gives you a sorry smile.

"No problem, bro. See you when I see you."

Yoongi makes a sound of acknowledgement before hanging up.

Hoseok slips his phone into his pocket before making his way towards you. He sits by your side and wraps an arm around you.

"I tried but this is Yoongi we're talking about. He likes to keep to himself for the most part. Last night was because he couldn't take it. I'm sure if he needs an out he'll find it. Find us if he needs help."

You look down at your knees with a small pout.

"Okay?" Hoseok asks.

You sigh before nodding. "Okay."

He leans in to place a loud kiss onto your cheek. "Now about breakfast. I can call for someone to bring our food upstairs. It'll only take a minute."

"Do you," you start. "Do you think she's down there? Right now?"

Hoseok raises a brow in question. "You mean Jiyoo?" He shrugs. "Maybe, maybe not. She's not one to be up this early but it's been a long time since we last seen her so her habits could have easily changed."

"Oh." Your hands worry between each other.

"What's wrong?"

You force your hands to stay still on your lap as you think. Even though you wanted to hide from her there's a big part of you that wants to leave this room. You want to because if you stay locked up with Hoseok in the bedroom you worry that one thing will lead to another.

Before Yoongi came last night Hoseok was trying to take things to the next level with that kiss. You even told him that you didn't want to have sex and he agreed but his touches said otherwise. And now you were left with the decision of hiding from Jiyoo and continuing where you left off last night or leave the room and risk seeing her.

You nibble your bottom lip in silent thought.

You doubt with Hoseok and his brothers present she would attempt anything, right? So long as you stay within their sights you'd be okay you think.

You twiddle your thumbs as your heart beat accelerates.

"Hey." Hoseok says. "Look at me. Tell me what's wrong."

You inhale deeply before sighing. "I don't want to hide." You twist your lips into a small pout. "I'm going to be honest she terrifies me but I don't want to hide."

Hoseok looks at your hands before releasing you to hold one. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to hide." He squeezes your hand. "But if you want to leave I'll be by your side. I'll always be by your side."

You feel a little dizzy with your heart beating so fast. You have to will yourself to calm down with slow even breaths to bring your heart rate back to normal. Once it's at a reasonable pace you feel a little calmer than before. Hoseok notices it you're sure because he leans his forehead onto your temple and praises you.

"Good girl," he says.

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and for a second more you breathe deeply with a sigh.

"I'm ready."

Hoseok leans back but your hand is still in his. He stands and pulls you up with him before heading towards the door.

It's now or never, you think. If things get too hectic you'll just head back to Hoseok's room. It'll be a lesson learned but for now you'll try and brave through breakfast if she's there.

No words are exchanged between you and Hoseok. Just you with a clammy hand in his but he doesn't complain about it. It just makes him grip your own even tighter. Whether it's because he's comforting you or making sure you won't run away - either way he keeps you close by.

When you reach the dining room you can hear people talking. One voice is definitely Seokjin's. He never misses a meal. No matter how early in the day it is. The next voice sends a chill up your spine. It's hers. Jiyoo's.

You don't realize you stopped walking until you feel a tug on your hand.

Hoseok looks back at you and frowns. He closes the space between you before placing his other hand on your arm.

"We don't have to do this, you know."

You know he's right but you don't want to head back now. Even though your body is shaking you don't want to back down.

Your eyes water involuntarily as you take a shaky breath. "I can do this."

Hoseok doesn't say anything. He just squeezes your arm before dropping his hand. You take that as a sign to start moving and so you do. You wait until Hoseok opens the door and the first thing you're greeted by is everyone's eyes. They're all set on you and it forces you to make an audible gulp.

"I knew I smelled something delectable." Jiyoo smiles.

"Don't start." Hoseok's words are firm as he drags you away from where his cousin sits.

She sits in an extra chair that's been brought for her. It's next to where Taehyung normally sits but the vampire in question isn't here so you're in plain sight. Yoongi isn't here either so her eyes roam over you freely as Hoseok pulls out your chair.

You try not to pay attention to her even though your heart beat is beginning to accelerate. You're so focused on her that you don't even notice when Namjoon walks in. He takes a seat roughly at the same time Hoseok does when their chairs are pulled out.

You swallow deeply and look at your hands beneath the table before taking slow even breaths. Your eyes are watering despite you wishing they weren't. You can't help it though.

Hoseok's hand comes over to hold you're own. He squeezes it gently for a moment and you squeeze back. You're okay, you think. You'll be okay.

With a deep breath in then out you look up and see Namjoon. His brow is raised in question but you ignore it. Instead, you smile his way and you watch as he returns it with one of his own.

"How are you today," he asks.

Before you can answer Jiyoo speaks up.

"I'll admit I'm a bit put off because my favorite pet seems to be ignoring me." She pouts before smiling. "Your heart is beating a mile a minute, rabbit."

You swallow and with wide eyes you try not to look her way. Namjoon's brow raises again as he looks between you and his cousin.

"Am I missing something here," he questions.

Jiyoo hums and she sounds so amused. "Rabbit," she calls to you.

You squeeze Hoseok's hand tighter.

"Enough, Jiyoo." It's your captor that speaks.

"Is it so bad to want the attention of one's favorite pet?"

"I said enough." Hoseok's words are firm.

She merely scoffs before rolling her eyes.

Seokjin clears his throat before looking to Namjoon.

"They know each other."

Namjoon looks between you and Jiyoo again before giving an awkward nod.

"We more than just know each other." Jiyoo runs her utensils over the side of her plate. It creates a screeching sounds that forces Hoseok to stiffen. "I've gotten a taste of that little rabbit and I wouldn't mind having some more."

She continues making the screeching sound until Hoseok bangs the table with a fist. It forces you to jump and for everyone to draw their eyes to him. He's glaring at Jiyoo and if looks could kill she'd be six feet under.

"You know how Hoseok feels about those type of sounds, Jiyoo," Seokjin starts. "Knock it off."

She rolls her eyes before taking a bite of her breakfast. You note it's similar to your own preferred breakfast and you hope she doesn't notice it when yours, Namjoon's and Hoseok's food is brought out. You just want to be seen as invisible to her.

Namjoon's eyes are on your person and when you look to him you catch his questionable gaze. You merely shake your head and form the words "Later" on your lips. He nods then before giving you a small smile. You return it before letting go of Hoseok's hand to eat.

As you're cutting into your French toast you hear Jiyoo clear her throat. Seokjin looks up at her with a brow raised in question. You don't dare look her way but you can see her from the corner of your eye.

"So my dear cousins."

You hear Hoseok sigh.

"I think you'd like to hear what I have to say first before the dramatics."

Hoseok tongues his cheek in irritation before he grabs his drink. Jiyoo doesn't seem to mind his attitude though as she continues.

"Don't you think it's time we talked about the fa-"

"Family business." Seokjin continues for her.

"So you know," she states as a matter of fact.

"To be fair it's the only time you find it within yourself to want to spend time with us." The oldest smiles but it barely reaches his eyes.

Jiyoo chuckles. "Don't feel so bad Jinnie. I think about you at least."

"Right." Hoseok grumbles.

She ignores Hoseok and continues to talk to Seokjin. "Don't you think it's about time you thought about expanding it?"

Seokjin hums with a peculiar look. "Hm no. Not really."

You chance looking in her direction to see her eyes turn to slits. A smile just dancing across the edges of her lips though she looks far from amused.

"You know you can make greater deals with variety packages. Don't forget that what you guys provide isn't the only thing people are looking for in the market."

Your brows furrow together. What was she talking about? You still don't know what the family business consists of. When you asked Hoseok he just brushed it aside.

"We don't have it all but what we have is enough." Namjoon interrupts the conversation. "And what we lack in product can be mixed with each other to make up for that."

You look at Namjoon with clear confusion but he doesn't look your way as he digs into his breakfast.

Jiyoo scoffs. "You just want to make things more difficult when what I can provide alone will boost sales."

"What you have to provide is nothing compared to what Jimin alone can do." Hoseok says.

You look at Jiyoo who glares over your head to Hoseok. "Is it so bad to want to join in on the fun? Is it so bad that your blood relative wants to take some of the burden off of your shoulders?"

"You just want to make a profit."

Jiyoo laughs out loud at Hoseok's comment. "Of course I do. It's not a family business if not everyone in the family is included."

"What's the family business?"

Everyone grows silent at your soft spoken question. Seokjin and Namjoon immediately look Hoseok's way and Jiyoo just smiles.

"You don't know, rabbit?"

You shake your head no.

Her smile grows wider. "Tell me, do you know what the kiss of a vampire can do to you?"

You swallow deeply before nodding.

She sits back in her seat before smirking your way. "Don't tell me Hoseok has you hooked on it already?" She chuckles. "I can provide much more than what he can offer. Spare some money and I'll show you a good time."

You frown. You're not understanding what it is she's talking about. What did that have to do with the family business? Unless...

Your eyes widen as you look at the brothers. Neither of them want to look you in the eye. Your lips part in silent surprise.

"Oh," Jiyoo says. "Now she's getting it."

"There was no need for her to know, Jiyoo." Namjoon reprimands her.

"You are to tell me little rabbit here is potentially hooked and she didn't have to know that her dealer also dabbles in the black market?" She lets out a tsk. "How else would she know she has more that can be offered to her than what Hoseok can spit out?"

You suddenly stand from your seat, the chair scraping against the floor.

You couldn't believe it. All the brothers - their business. They were selling their saliva through the black market? You shake your head no in disbelief.

"Oh," Jiyoo starts. "She isn't taking it that well."

Though it's far from your business you know anything having to do with the black market is wrong. You've seen plenty of videos on the topic. On how people looking for a high often go through the market for something stronger than the latest drug. That organs and children are sold. And knowing first hand what a vampire's saliva can do to you when you're on and off it - Hoseok and his brothers were preying on their victims with their saliva.

"Y/N." Hoseok grabs your hand but you snatch it away.

He reaches for you again but you pull away from him before storming out of the dining room door. You can hear the way Jiyoo laughs out loud and it only makes you feel sick. Of course she would find this hilarious. She's just as horrible as her family.

You don't know where you're going until you feel the heat on your skin. You ran off towards the garden and slam the sliding door shut behind you. The heat doubles as the sun shines down upon you as you hear the door open again. You don't dare look behind you to see who it is. You figure it's Hoseok and you yell for him to leave you alone.

You run past the flowers around you and into the maze Namjoon took you in. You can barely remember the way through but you don't care. You'll force your way through if you have to.

You take a few turns here and there before you find yourself at another dead end. You slip your hands through the hedge and force it apart. You're about to tear through it until you feel a hand stop you and turn you around.

"Hoseok I said-"

You pause when you see it's not Hoseok but Namjoon. You frown at him because you expected to see your captor and not the man you have found solace in for your time here in this place. But you're not happy to see him either because this family business includes him as well.

You shrug Namjoon's hand off before looking off behind him.

"Where's Hoseok?"

"I told him to let me get you."

Your frown deepens as you clench your teeth.

Namjoon sighs as he looks you over. "I'm sorry we never told you."

You look down at your feet. "Even if you would have told me earlier I would have had the same reaction."

"I know."

It's silent for a moment.

"Are you really upset about it?"

You are but only because you know what Hoseok's saliva can do to you and to know he was preying on people with it for money made you uncomfortable. Knowing that everyone including Namjoon was doing it hurt you.

"I expected better from you."

Namjoon sighs. "I'm sorry."

You clench and unclench your teeth as your nostrils flare.

"Why?"

He gives a questioning hum before parting his lips. "It's the family business."

"But you didn't have to take part in it."

"I know but I did and nothing can change that."

You look away to your left where nothing but hedges fill your sight.

"Would it make you feel better if I say I never had a say in it from the beginning?"

You look up at Namjoon in confusion. "What do you mean?"

He looks almost sad as he stares down at you. "It was my father's idea. He was made a part of the business way before we were but when I was a kid - when all of us were children he had us selling our saliva."

Your lips part softly in surprise.

"We didn't really have a choice in the beginning. And as we grew older and our saliva grew more potent he saw it as easy money. I did too. I still do and it's why I never stopped, but it was never my choice to begin with."

Your heart aches at the idea of seeing a small Namjoon sell his saliva away because his father demanded it. If this was true then you're coming to hate this father of his.

You shake your head. "Even though your saliva wasn't as potent, like you said, as a child then why did he make you do it?"

Namjoon shrugged. "It still worked to give people the high they wanted. It just wasn't as strong. So it was better for people who didn't want to make a commitment. That and because he wanted to start us off young."

Your heart aches. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I know it's a lot to take in but it is what it is. We can't change the past."

"But you can change your future."

Namjoon shrugs again. "Maybe. Yeah."

You worry your hands between each other.

Despite knowing the truth now it still doesn't change the fact that you don't like Hoseok. You don't think you could ever find it in you to pity him. Neither one of those brothers except Namjoon and Yoongi.

You breathe in deeply before releasing it into a sigh. This was a lot to take in.

When you look back up at Namjoon he still seems sad and it makes you feel bad. You grab one of his hands with your own and squeeze it gently. He reciprocates your advances and with it comes a smile. You can't help but smile back.

"You know if I were to walk away from the business," he pauses as he stares at you. "I'd do it for you."

Warmth floods your cheeks and ears at his admission.

"There isn't a thing I wouldn't do for you."

Your eyes widen a fraction as you stare back up at him. "You mean that?"

He nods. "Wholeheartedly." He squeezes your hand again before leaning down over you.

You look up at him as he brings his face closer to yours. He looks into your eyes as if waiting to see hesitation in them but when he sees nothing of the sort, he leans in and kisses you.

His lips feel plush against your own. It's different to Hoseok's which are often forced upon you. With Namjoon you feel pleasure. A different type of pleasure. Not from a high as your lips don't part but a boost of serotonin at knowing he reciprocates your feelings.

You accept him ardently as your hands come up to rest on his shoulders and his around your waist. When you both finally part he rests his forehead against your own. Your eyes are shut as are his and you have to regain your breath after kissing him for so long. You bite your lip and feel as Namjoon pulls away from you to look down at you.

"Was that wrong of me?"

You open your eyes to look up at him. "What?"

"Was it wrong of me to kiss you?"

You shake your head. "No. Is it wrong for me to want you to do it again?"

Namjoon chuckles. "No."

You stand on your toes as your hands go from his shoulders to the back of his neck to pull him down to you. Your lips meet again and you can feel the way he smiles into the kiss.

The two of you are like this for a while but your lips stay closed. They don't part and so you don't feel the high he could easily give you. When he pulls back though you both smile. Your cheeks hurt from it but right now you don't care. You stare up at him and you feel happiness. True happiness. It makes you feel warm inside as you stare up at him though he's starting to look pale before you and it makes you pause.

"Are you okay?"

He winces a bit as he looks up towards the sky. "The sun."

You give a sharp gasp as you go and reach for his hand. "I forgot! Let's get out of here."

Despite him clearly being in pain he laughs. "Wait a minute."

You stop even though you know you shouldn't for his sake. Even then you wouldn't know how to get out of the maze without his help.

He gives you a quick kiss before pulling you into a tight hug. He even nuzzles his head into yours.

"I have to make sure you smell like me and not just your lips. I don't want Hoseok questioning you about it."

Oh. Right Hoseok. You're stiff in Namjoon's arms as he coats you in his scent. You figure Hoseok would think you smell like his brother because of a hug and not because the two of you kissed. It's a smart idea but you're left feeling sad knowing you won't be returning to the house with Namjoon as a lover but as your captor's brother who merely fetched his hostage for him.

When Namjoon is done he pulls away from you and gives you a smile. "There," he says. "At least for now let's leave it at that."

You nod your head as you give him a saddened smile.

"Hey." He keeps your head in place with his fingers touching just beneath your chin. "We'll figure this out yeah? Okay?"

"Okay."

He smiles at you until you can't help but to smile back. This time a little less sad.

From there he wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you two out of the maze.

Now that you've had a taste of him, now that you know he feels the same way about you you feel like you can't have enough of him. So the feeling is bitter when you return to the house as nothing more than friends. He opens the sliding door for you and lets you in before he slips in himself. The heat is tossed away as soon as the door is closed. All you feel is the refreshing air conditioner. It soothes you and you know Namjoon must be loads better to be out of the sun. It doesn't change how dissatisfied you feel knowing you can't be with him the way you really want to be but it can't be helped.

When the two of you return to the dining room you only see Hoseok there. He turns as soon as he hears your heart beat and he looks sorrowful. He stands from his place and looks at Namjoon before giving him a nod. A nod of thankfulness you surmise. You're traded between the men then as you're brought into Hoseok's arms. He sniffs a little around your head and you feel like your heart is about to stop. He pulls back with a sour look before looking at Namjoon.

As if knowing what his brother is about to say Namjoon laughs. "It was just a hug, Hoseok."

He still frowns before grunting and pulling you back into his arms. He's wound tight around you as he keeps you close no doubt trying to spread his own scent onto you. You're back to being stiff as you take what he gives you unwillingly. You already miss being in Namjoon's arms.

"I'll uh," Namjoon starts. "I'll leave you two to it then."

Your head snaps his way. He doesn't give the slightest bit of a hint that he feels the same way as you do him but he gives you a dimpled smile with a nod. You know he can't be as obvious as you'd like him to be and so you take what he gives with a small nod of your own.

Now you're back to being alone with Hoseok and it leaves you sulking. You really try not to let it show but it's difficult.

Hoseok's chin rests on top of your head and you can feel more than hear how he sighs.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"For what?" You don't sound the least bit interested but he takes in your question all the same.

"For not telling you sooner. I know hearing about our work through Jiyoo of all people must have been quite a shock"

It wasn't even about that. You could have heard it directly from him and your reaction would have still been the same but he clearly doesn't understand that.

Your silence at his words leaves him feeling anxious. You could tell with the way his hands have a hard time finding a spot to perch on your body. He's clearly nervous and you can't help but to roll your eyes.

You could easily sulk about it and in turn it'll make him sulk or you could sweep it under the rug despite hating what the family business entails. You don't want to deal with a clingy and anxious man right now so you sigh before speaking.

"Namjoon told me everything."

Hoseok freezes.

"It's not your fault you were dealt these cards, I guess," you mumble. "You're just going along with what your father wanted."

His hands find your shoulders and he pushes you back a little so he can see your face. His brows are furrowed and he looks confused but he doesn't say anything. You don't want to say anything else either. You've had enough talk regarding the family business for your liking. It's not like you could change the minds of these vampires. Namjoon said he'd be willing to quit for you but you know with change comes time. You doubt he'd be able to leave it all behind him by tonight. That's not how things work.

Hoseok squeezes your shoulders as he hums. "Are you still mad?"

You shake your head no.

He nods before placing a kiss onto your forehead before hugging you close again. This time though his hold on you is tight and it makes you wheeze a little.

"H-Hoseok."

"Don't ever do that again." Comes his firm voice.

He doesn't let up even as you try to push away from him.

"Hoseok you're hurting me."

"You promised you wouldn't run away again."

You freeze. He sounds angry now. You did promise that but you didn't expect he'd be mad about this. You ran not because you were trying to escape but because you were upset, but he doesn't see it that way at all.

You wheeze again and are starting to feel light-headed. There's only one last thing you are left to do.

"I'm sorry."

Your apology falls on deaf ears at first. His hold on you is still tight until he finally lets up and you can finally breathe easily again. Your forehead rests upon his chest as you close your eyes.

What was he planning to do? Did he plan on squeezing you until you had not a bit of air left in you? Your body trembles at the possibilities that could have happened.

Hoseok would never kill you, would he? You pause in thought. He'd be willing to knock you out you're sure but killing you... You don't know and would rather not know.

His hand rubs up and down your back as you try and take even breaths.

"Next time I won't be so nice. You will be punished if you run away again. Understood?"

You nod your head.

"Words, Y/N."

You squeeze your eyes shut even tighter. "Understood."

"Good."

He stops rubbing your back to push you away from him so he can see your face. You open your eyes to see a frown mars his own as he huffs. He breathes deeply then before putting on a smile that barely reaches his eyes.

"I have a plan for us for today."

You're sure you look troubled especially after what just happened. It's apparent as Hoseok giggles and claps your shoulder.

"No need to look so worried. It's nothing bad."

You look down at your feet before looking back up at him. "What is it?"

You're on edge. Hoseok is sporadic at times, such as now, but is devious the most. You never know what to expect from him. Even during a time of rest.

His smile grows wider as he goes to lace a hand with yours. "I'm thinking of getting you that phone I mentioned before."

Your brows perk up the slightest bit at this.

"It's about time you get one."

You purse your lips in silent thought. There was that brief conversation the two of you had about you getting a phone. You didn't think he'd see it through. Merely talking about it just for the sake of having a conversation.

You try to think of the pros and cons of having a phone but all you can really come up with is that you've never used a phone so what was to be expected? You know what their usage is for. You've seen it in movies and TV shows. You've even seen former co-workers use them too.

Would it be so bad to get one? You don't know.

Hoseok squeezes your hand to grab your attention as he leans down a little to look you directly in the eyes. He hums in question clearly waiting for an answer.

Your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try and formulate an answer. "I guess, yeah."

A wide smile parts his lips. "Good." He tugs on your hand to start walking. "Let's go for a ride then."

"W-Wait." You stop to tug on his hand. "I thought you didn't want me to leave the premises anymore." Your words aren't formed as a question but a clear statement.

He did tell you that didn't he?

Hoseok's smile slowly drops as he goes to lick his lips. "I did."

You look off to the side in question then back at him. "So," you start. "What's changed?"

He sighs deeply. "Jiyoo. I can't leave you alone while Jiyoo is around."

He's right and you know that. Despite not wanting to be out with him you do get the privilege of leaving the house. Moreso for your safety and not because you'd be given a chance to escape like you did when you were with Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin.

"I could easily hide you in our room but if she so much as figures out you're alone without me - you already know."

He's right again and you really, more than anything, do not want to be left alone around Jiyoo. You did once and nearly paid for it with your life.

Hoseok watches you as you look down and kick the toe of your shoe into the ground.

Despite not wanting to be left alone with her you feel like a child that can't be left alone for the slightest of moments. This is what your life has come to. Just an onslaught of prisons within more prisons. Unable to live your life how you would like. Guards watching your every move in wait for you to slip up. The only thing bringing you solace in the shape of a tall vampire with plush lips and a heart divine.

You could easily get lost in the idea of Namjoon but now wasn't the place nor time. So you look back up at Hoseok and nod.

"Okay."

A smile graces Hoseok's face. One that brightens his features when unleashed. It's the heart shaped one that once looked like the smile of an angel to you. Back when you thought he wasn't a danger to you at all.

"Let's go then." He goes back to pulling on your arm to string you along with him.

At least you won't be in the house anymore, but how short is your leash going to be? There's no way Hoseok is going to allow you the freedom to move around. Not like you had much to go with the last time you were out but who's to say you'll even be allowed to enter the restroom.

It's with that sour thought in mind do you follow behind Hoseok with a dour attitude because no, you won't be escaping any time soon. You don't even think you're going to even try and attempt on this outing. Who's to say you would even be successful. Would the people around you even care? Would they see you're in distress and care enough to help or would they follow along on Hoseok's side because he's a Lord? You're not even sure you want to know the answer.

You realize more than ever that this is your fate at least for the time being. A true hostage and as of now, there's nothing you can do about it.

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #hoseok x reader #yandere hoseok #yanderebts #btsfanfic #jhope #jung hoseok #hoseok #reader #fanfic

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heerocks · 11 months

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CURIOUS CAT — the luck on heeseung's side

SYNOPSIS! Curious Cat is an app that peaked three years ago where people use it to flirt with their crush anonymously and then suddenly forgot about it.

or wherein, Y/N was devastated when her crush, Lee Heeseung indirectly rejecting her in high school. Three years later, both of them have this unknown beef between them that even their friends don't know the real reason behind. One day, Y/N suddenly remembered and opened her C.C. account, and saw that someone by the name 'Ethan' confessed to her three years ago.

"Noona?" You flinched, not expecting someone to see you, at least not someone familiar. You slowly turned around, laughing awkwardly when you met Niki's gaze who was now obviously confused. "Why are you hiding there— woah!" Before he can finish his question, your hands automatically pull him down to squat and hide beside you.

You shushed him like a kid, gesturing with your finger on your lips, which the young man mirrored. Both of you peek in the direction of the dorm, you in with the hope that heeseung didn't see that, and for Niki who's just curious and excited about what the two of you are going to do.

Then, as if life wanted some drama, the gate opened. Heeseung walked outside, dressed casually. He looks good in his all-black ensemble. Black sweatpants and a simple black shirt partnered with a black cap. Fortunately, he didn't see you as his eyes were fixated on some sort of paper in his eyes while smiling relentlessly.

What is in the paper that makes you smile like this, heeseung?

Then, the next thing you heard was a gasp from the boy beside you. The same sound made you come back to reality. Oh, you forgot Niki's here too. Shit.

"What?" You nonchalantly asked the boy whose eyes are now staring widely at you with his hand covering his mouth. Talk about being dramatic, just like his hyung.

"Noona, don't tell me... you're stalking heeseung hyung?!"

You clicked your tongue, looking offended before gently hitting his finger that he points at you. "I'm not a stalker, okay? I just want to know the truth!"

"I don't know, noona. This a very stalker-ish behavior for me" He replied keeping his voice in check while both of you followed heeseung from afar. "What 'truth' do you mean, anyway?" You were about to answer, or, even rant but then realized that Niki is part of heeseung's circle. Of course, he knew something.

"What?" He asked when you suspiciously looked at him.

"You know something, didn't you?"

"Like what, noona?"

"Like, who's the person heeseung likes? or—" Or, if he's the one giving me gifts?

Of course, Niki knows. It's you, duh. One thing he doesn't get is why grownups make things complicated. He will never fall in love, he thought. As for you, you don't need to know that he knows. Where's the excitement with that, right? "Noona, believe me, or not, I know nothing. The hyungs keep my nose out with that topic because apparently, I'm too young for that." He answered, quoting the last words with his fingers before shrugging.

Nothing's bad with a little white lie, right? Well, some of it was true anyways. Since something's telling him that his hyungs are hiding something from him these days. Niki was just lucky because he can keep and act cool compared to his hee hyung, making it believable to you.

"So.. will you tell heeseung?" Your voice was low, slowly asking without looking at him. You need to look out for heeseung because what if you two lost him. Luckily for you, the boy in question was in his own world.

Niki gasped. Now, he's the one who feel offended "No, of course not! I ain't a snitch, noona" You chuckled, patting his head. "Alright, don't worry. I'll treat you with some bungeoppang later to make it up to you" The boy looked at you, face asking 'how did you know?'. You smiled, "Heeseung mentioned it last time. Now, come on. We might lose him.

After a few steps, you realized heeseung was on the way to a grocery store. He came inside and both, you and Niki did the same too. Heeseung grabbed different things on different shelves around the store which is a usual routine to do.

"Noona, I don't think hee hyung was doing something fishy. He might just want to help jay hyung with picking the groceries" Niki whispered as both of you observed the black-haired man reading the label of milk on the other side of the aisle. Heeseung then put out his phone as if he just received a message before typing on it.

Don't tell me that I got caught by your friend, labeled as a stalker, and walked like 10km away from my own dorm for this, heeseung?

You were about to give up and walk away when your phone suddenly rang, both you and Niki flinched at the sound. Your hands instantly put out your phone, frantically tapping the reject button.

'Why does Heeseung calling you right now?'

But then, the screen froze, leaving the phone constantly ringing with you still unable to decline the call. And, as if heaven heard your desperate call, the sound stops causing you to be relieved.

"N-noona..." Niki called from your side, why does he sound nervous though? You look up, hoping Heeseung didn't hear it even though deep inside you know he did. The sound was loud enough for people across you to look. Your eyes tried to find him but he was nowhere to be seen.

"What are you two doing here?" Heeseung's voice echoed from behind, and swear, you don't want to turn around and face the man. It was embarrassing.

"Y/N?" He called again and that's your cue, you slowly turned around meeting Heeseung's eyes. "What are you doing here? At this hour? And with, Niki at that?" The boy beside you groaned, "What the heck, hyung? You make it sounds like I'm the bad influence on noona." Heeseung didn't reply though he jokingly grimaced, his eyes still on you.

You laughed, maybe a bit louder than you intended to while your hands slowly reached your nape. Your eyes awkwardly peek at Heeseung, but you can't cope with how intensely he stares at you. He was not angry though, just surprised. Maybe you just can't handle the fact that you were caught tailing him. Wait, he shouldn't know that you were following him.

"O-oh hi, Heeseung! I just um— taking Niki on a date... yeah, when I bumped into him earlier..." You tip your feet, trying to hook your right arm on Niki's shoulder but it failed. Why is this boy so tall, anyways?! Fortunately, Niki knew how to play along. He silently squats closer to the ground making his height identical to yours before nodding and smiling at his hyung.

Heeseung was obviously weirded out at the stunt both you and Niki pulled, he was about to open his mouth when you cut him off afraid of what he'll say. "A-and, we certainly don't know that you're here! Like, for real!"

The man was surprised at your sudden outburst but decided to let it go. "Right.." He replied dragging the sound, "But, y/n. Sunoo was worried about you, he texted awhile ago asking if you were with me since you haven't come home since our class earlier."

Oh, so Sunoo's the one who texted him. "Is that why you called me?" Heeseung nodded, "Wait for me here, I'll just pay for my things then I'll get you home" He said turning around to the cashier.

"What? Wait, heeseung, no! I still need to take niki out on a date. You can go ahead, we're—"

"Okay. Then, let's take him out on a date"

"What?" You ask, brain not completely processing his words yet. Who takes who on a date?

Heeseung turned around, his face moving closer to yours, causing you to step back. "You heard me, let's take Niki out on a date... together" You heard Niki snort from behind but Heeseung's face was just a few inches away from yours that you can't even scold the young one. This man is causing an internal dilemma and he didn't even know that his presence affects you effectively.

He observed you for a few seconds then smiled before standing again, "Now, wait for me. I'll pay for this and ask Hoon to pick it up."

When Heeseung was a few steps away, you dramatically inhaled as if he was the one who cut off your air supply when he suddenly pulled that stunt.

"Is that really necessary?!"

"Nice one, hyung." Niki mumbled still laughing while you tried compose yourself. "Isn't it hot here?" You asked niki while fanning yourself with your hand.

Niki just shrugged, "Noona, you're red" He pointed out.

"I am not!"

"You are!"

"Stop, or no bungeoppang for you later"

"Fine. But you're still red"

"Niki?!" You whispered helplessly not knowing the man who was the reason of your suffering heard it all alright. Heeseung can't help but smile as he walks toward the cashier. Things turn unexpectedly but it seems like luck was on his side.

chapter 47 — the luck on heeseung's side

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GENRE! smau + written, on crack, slow burn, mutual pinning or past pinning, university au, kinda enemies to lovers troupe, heeseung is a simp, reader is kind of dumb, friends bullying friends

𖥻 notes! : sorry for the delayed update, i'm getting busy with college these days. i hope y'all understand ><

𖥻𖥻 taglist! : @ckline35 @meinapricity @gugudone @xoxodinaryheroes @lov3niki @ahnneyong @raikea10 @bigtoewinwin @tlnyjoong @sungookie @uwudaizy @jeongintwt @paragonofroyalty @captivq @lavisha7 @prdxinvade @lockburn-castle @chaemmie @xtra-cheese @mimikittysblog @zhaixiaowen @pb-n-juju @luvkait @myjaeyunn @redm4ri @oceanyocean @diestheticu @liliansun @yenqa @xiaoderrrr @flower-lise @mymeloem19 @jungwon-kitten @hoonieluv @vantxx95 @asherbl @alexayoonlee @georgi-salva @mdavt @kyexvly @would-bee @jhopesucker @tiramis-hoon @noascats @iea-tsand @beomibeom

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! ❤️

#📎.curiouscat!#enhypen #lee heeseung #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #yang jungwon #kim sunoo #nishimura riki #park jongseong #enhypen smau #enhypen social media au #enhypen ff #enhypen au #heeseung smau #enhypen x reader

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thestarrynightslover · 3 years

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It’s Hard Sometimes

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,975

Warnings: Yelling, arguing (gets a little physical, really just a little bit!), high risk-pregnancy, slight mentions of fertility issues, mentions of anxiety and overthinking, and a lot of angst.

Summary: Jay and the reader are married, but start having a hard time after they found out that (y/n) is pregnant.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: I made this piece of almost pure angst mostly because I feel like Jay is such a well-built character, who gives us a lot of space to talk about mental health and anxiety (even though I don’t think I developed it very well, lol), so I wanted to use this space to try and add to the conversation with him. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback, cause I’m also here to learn!!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

Your Saturday morning just couldn’t get any worse.

Or, at least, that’s what you thought after having been mugged at the subway and then asked to go pick up your stuff at the 21st District, where your husband works. You had to go in because they had apprehended your bag as stolen property. But you were hoping that, maybe, you’d be able to sort it all out without Jay seeing you.

“(y/n), hi! Here to see Chuckles? Cause they’re all out working on a case now.” Trudy said with a small smile on her lips, while you just prayed she wouldn’t notice how relieved you were to hear that.

“No, uh, I’m actually here because there was an incident at the subway and the responding officers told me I had to come in to get my bag back. Also, sign something, I think…” You answered shrugging your shoulders to make it seem like nothing. But, of course, Trudy knew better, she always does.

“Oh my God! I heard about that, just didn’t know you were one of the victims! Are you okay? García, go get (y/n) a glass of water!!!” She quickly shouted at the young officer, not waiting long to turn back to face you with a concerned glare: “Can I get you anything else?”

“Oh, no, Trudy! You don’t need to worry about me! It wasn’t a big deal!” You said, also noticing that she was already going through some evidence bags, looking for the one that contained your things. “But there is one thing that I’d appreciate from you…” Hearing that, she didn’t even let you finish:

“Yes, of course! Anything, just name it!” At that, you shot her your brightest smile. Maybe Jay was right and the tough Sergeant Trudy Platt did have a soft spot for you.

“Well, it’s just that… You know how Jay can get, so maybe you could not mention any of this to him? I just don’t want him worrying, the way I know he will, over something like this…” You would’ve continued but Trudy had the weirdest look on her face and, then, you got it. “He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?” She didn’t bother to answer as your husband turned you to face him and the other members of the Intelligence Unit.

“So, what is it you don’t want me to worry about, huh?” He had a playful smirk on his lips, but his eyes showed you he was already worried. And now you had no other option but to tell him what happened.

“Well, um, there was a little confusion at the subway today and the officers said I had to come in…” You would gladly stop at that, but you knew that Jay wasn’t gonna let it go until you told him everything, so you just went on: “To retrieve what I, um, lost.” God, you couldn’t even look in his eyes right now.

“What you lost? What kind of confusion are you talking about exactly, babe?” In spite of the pet name, his voice was already showing off a bit of irritation.

“It was a, um, robbery,” at that his eyes almost jumped out of their orbits, so you quickly added, “but it wasn’t a big deal! Nobody got hurt! The officers tackled the guy pretty fast, as soon as he stepped out on the station! And everything is here,” you said raising the bag Trudy handed you a few minutes earlier, “so, really, there’s nothing to worry about!” You told him, not being able to conceal the exasperation in your voice.

“Nothing to worry about? You just got mugged, (y/n)! We heard a call about that over the radio, it was an armed robbery! Or did you happen to miss the gun on your face when he was getting your bag, huh?” He asked and, even though you knew that the only reason why he was lashing out like that was the concern, the way he said what he said made you feel really small and brought tears to your eyes. “Actually, what I’d like to know, to begin with, is why were you even riding the subway alone, after our talk from the other day, huh?” You could feel the eyes from every person in that District on you and, as much as you knew where Jay was coming from, it was starting to really bother you.

“I was just going to the library. Sorry I didn’t think I needed an escort to do that!” You wish you wouldn’t have said it with those exact words, but you were reaching your limit.

“But we talked about it!” He snapped and you jumped back a little. Then he added, more calmly: “You should have called me.” He was pinching the bridge of his nose, like he always did when he was disappointed and upset about something, and you just felt yourself getting smaller and smaller, as the tears started falling. As if all of it hadn’t been enough, he asked: “Are you okay, though? Because, you know, given our circumstances, you’re to avoid going out on your own to prevent this kinda stress from hitting you, babe.” He explained that to you like he was talking to a child. Like he was the only one who heard what the doctor said. And that was it for you. As much as you loved the man, you just didn't have infinite patience towards his overprotective dad-to-be mode.

“Oh, really? Why don’t you just go ahead and say ‘I told you so’, huh? Because I can tell you’re dying to do it!” God damn those pregnancy hormones because you were fuming with anger and the tears just kept going down at full force.

“Babe, that’s not what I-”

“The hell it isn’t!” Part of you really wanted to let it all out. All the hurtful words that were just waiting for a go-ahead at the tip of your tongue. But the other part of you, the rational one, knew that wasn’t gonna do any good for you or Jay. Or your baby. So you decided you’d leave instead. “You know what? It’s probably best if I go home now!”

“Okay, then, I’ll drive you.” You heard Jay saying, with a deep sigh, but you couldn’t even begin to think about an entire drive home with him at that moment.

“No way! I can do that by myself! And don’t worry I’ll get a cab this time!” As you headed towards the exit, you felt a strong grip on your wrist. You turned around and it was Jay. He’d never done that before. “Jay, you’re hurting me!” You breathed out, trying not to be too nervous. When your eyes met his, he let your arm go quickly, looking absolutely stunned by his own behavior.

You knew that the healthiest thing to do right then would be to try and talk to him about it, but you couldn’t. At that point you needed the space more than ever, so you took the opportunity to just leave the District and go home.

After you stormed out crying, every cop in that building laid their eyes on Jay. To say they were completely shocked by the previous scene was an understatement. Almost everyone there knew you and Jay and how you two were great together. But, more importantly, they knew Jay Halstead wasn’t that kinda guy ⎯ or at least they thought so ⎯ and now they were all wondering.

Still, Trudy Platt, who wasn’t about to have any more of that drama at her District, ordered loudly for everyone to get back to their tasks, while shooting Jay a worried look, because, as much as she knew for a fact that he wasn’t that kinda guy, she cared a lot about you and had, obviously, witnessed the whole thing.

After the little gathering of cops had been dissolved, it was Voight’s turn to speak up: “Alright, Intelligence, let’s get back upstairs, we still have a lot of work to do on this case. And, Jay, you should go home now.” He said with a stern look, despite his concern for the detective.

“But, sarge, I-” Jay started to protest, like Hank knew he would.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Halstead. I know your head is not gonna be on the case until you fix whatever that was, so, now, the best thing you can do is just calm down and go home.” This time Jay knew there was no point in arguing, so he accepted the defeat and went upstairs to get changed in the locker room before leaving.

As he got there, he saw his reflection in the mirror and that was when it hit him. All of it. From your incident to your tears, to his aggressiveness. He really messed up. He let his fears get the best of him and he hurt you, he made you cry, fear him, even. So he started crying himself, like a little child whose favorite toy had just broken, like there was no tomorrow. By the time Voight went there to check up on Jay, maybe give him some advice, that’s what he saw: a grown man sitting on the floor crying his eyes out. So he did the one thing he could think about doing, to try and make that man he considered like a son feel better: he sat there by Jay’s side and put a hand over the detective’s shoulder until the crying sufficed.

“So, you and (y/n) been on the odds lately?” Hank asked after a while.

“No, uh, not really.” Jay started whilst sniffling. “It’s just that this week we got some news that messed with our emotions a little, but, Hank, I swear I have no idea why I did that! I would never do anything to hurt her, you gotta believe me! Please?” He pleaded, in desperation, for someone who knew it, who knew him.

“Jay, Jay!” By then the sergeant had to shout to get the frantic young man’s attention back. “Jay, I know you wouldn’t hurt her, you hear me? I know. I know you love her more than you love yourself, hell, everyone here knows it! They were just… A little surprised to see you two arguing, that’s all.” Hank tried to make it sound a lot less bad than it actually was, and Jay appreciated that. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s really going on between you and (y/n), huh? Maybe I can help you somehow… Or maybe you just need to vent.” Hearing that, Jay decided that he should take Voight’s suggestion and just talk about it already.

“Well, here’s the thing, sarge, (y/n/n) and I, we’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while now. And, um, we were having a bit of a hard time with it. But then last weekend we found out that it worked, she got pregnant, and we were so happy about it!” He almost smiled at the memory. “But then we went to the doctor to check it and all that, and found out that it’s a high-risk pregnancy, meaning she’s gotta take it real easy from now on, otherwise the baby’s life and her own would be in danger! And I’m terrified ever since we left that hospital! Because the simplest thing could take her away from me! My everything, sarge, she is my entire world and I can’t live without her.” He said shaking his head in a way that made even Hank Voight feel a bit of sadness. “So when she said she’d been robbed at gunpoint… I just lost it, you know? What if I’d lost them?”

“Ah, Jay…” Hank knew exactly what the detective was scared of, after all, he had already lost a wife and a son. “Look, I know this can be hard, trust me. Camille and I had our issues before Justin came, as well… But you said it yourself, you’re both happy, aren’t you?” Jay didn’t even need to think before answering that question.

“Yes, of course, sarge! But-”

“No buts! Look, Jay, I know what a big heart you have and I know how much you care, how- how intensely you care, I know, okay? But sometimes, with things like this, you just gotta keep going and hope- just hope that everything is gonna work out. So here’s what you’re gonna do: go home, make up with your wife and start planning a nursery, or whatever else you, parents-to-be, have on your to-do lists these days.” At that, Jay chuckled a little, feeling grateful to have this second father to set him on straight.

“I know you’re right, and I really appreciate you saying this to me… I’m pretty sure that (y/n/n) said something among those lines after we got back from the doctor’s appointment too. The problem is that sometimes it seems like I can’t control my own thoughts. Then, next thing I know, I’m freaking out…” Hank thought that he sounded so frustrated saying that… He really felt for the kid.

“Listen, Jay, you- you just try, okay? You just try your best. And talk to (y/n/n) about it, just let her know what’s going on in there.” He pointed to Jay’s head, as they had already stood up.

“Alright, I will try. Thank you, sarge. Thank you so much, I really needed this.” They half-hugged and the detective went home to you.

The thing he wasn’t prepared for, at all, was finding you: the woman he loved more than anything and anyone in the entire world, sitting on the floor, leaning your back against the bed in the bedroom you two shared, crying and shaking. You were scared of him. That broke him in a way he never thought possible. He wanted to hurt himself, as punishment for hurting you, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair to you. So he gathered some courage to speak through his shame instead. “B- babe?”

You shivered, but you didn’t wanna be afraid of him. That was Jay. Your Jay. The man you loved. The man who loved you. You knew he would never hurt you or your baby. But your body didn’t seem to be listening to your brain. Still, you wanted to say something. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t know what to say, so you just stayed silent, trying to stop the sobs. He decided to make a move: He sat down on the floor like you, but still giving you some space. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, almost whispering, “I’m so, so, so sorry. You don’t need to say anything, or to forgive me, or do anything, really. I came here willing to talk to you. To do anything to get you back. But now I see just how much I hurt you, so I’ll give you all the space and time you want.” You still couldn’t seem to find your words. It was that same man, you knew it. Why couldn’t you just tell him that? “I’ll sleep in the spare bedroom, or even go to Will’s if it makes you more comfortable?” Just by the sound of his voice, you could tell he meant it. And that was your Jay.

“No,” you spoke so lowly, that you weren’t even sure he’d heard it, “I want you to stay.” And you really did. But you needed to understand, in order to be able to forgive him. “Just- just tell me what happened there? Why?” You tried, a little louder this time.

“Long story short? I was scared to death.” He said with a long and heavy sigh, looking so much older than he’d ever done before; at the same time, you could see the bags under his eyes, from all those sleepless nights he’d been having lately.

“Scared? Because of the robbery? Baby, you’re a cop! You’ve heard of that kind of thing a million times before, and you know it’s not that big of a deal!" You tried to reason with him, even though you were afraid too, at the time.

“I know!” He said, in a tone that made you flinch a little and, then, more calmly: “Look, I know. And I know that you’ve been through tougher stuff. And that you can handle yourself. But that whole thing could’ve gone badly for you, for the baby, for us, in a thousand different ways. Besides, it’s not just that. Ever since we left that exam room, on Monday, I’ve been scared, worried. Because, according to the doctor, the tiniest problem could get you on edge. Because of the tiniest problem, I could lose you. I could lose everything, babe!” You could only stare at him in shock, after hearing that. Of course, you understood his concerns, but you had been so absorbed in your own fears, that you never thought about how much the whole situation was affecting him. Your formerly brave soldier, now tough detective, was also a very anxious man ⎯ who always overthought every single detail of everything when it came to you ⎯ and was, now, crying his eyes out, sobbing like a little kid by your side. So you did the one thing you thought could make him feel better: you pulled him closer to you, letting him break, into your chest, as he listened to your soothing heartbeat.

“It’s alright, my love, it’s alright. Shhh, I’m right here and I’m safe. We both are. You don’t need to be afraid, because we’re not going anywhere, baby.” You promised him with tears already pricking through your eyes, as well.

And, like that, you two stayed, crying in each other’s arms, just holding each other. With a renewed hope that everything was gonna be okay.

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 07 part two

(Masterpost)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Lantern Lighting

Now we have the famous lantern scene, where everybody gets to express their character and have dates, ranging from disastrous to delightful, with the objects of their affection.

Wei Wuxian continues to be ridiculously good at drawing.

We’ve all seen Lan Wangji’s lovely first smile in the show a million times, so...let’s look at it again!

This scene is important not just because of the smile, but because there’s a distinct shift in the way they talk about their growing relationship. In the pond, it was “come visit me” and “never!” “I want to be your friend” “No need.” Basically Lan Wangji firmly saying no to Wei Wuxian’s offers of friendship.

This time, Wei Wuxian says “let’s do this together” and Lan Wangji says “I’m used to being alone,” which is not actually a No, just an explanation. And WWX says, you can change that. And then Lan Wangji DOES change it, sharing the lantern and the promise with Wei Wuxian.

Whoever painted this flower is even better than Wei Wuxian at plein air painting.

(more after the cut!)

Everybody’s wishes

Nie Huasang makes a practical wish. Wen Qing prays for her brother and Jiang Cheng notices how she’s like Yanli. Jiang Cheng isn’t very intense about Wen Qing, which could be a sign of his shyness but could also be a sign of his gayness or aceness. After all, later in life he’s an apparently wealthy clan leader who is hot as fuck, and needs an heir, since his nephew is a Jin. But he’s still not married, 16 years after breaking up with and uh, helping to kill and cremate, the girl he liked in summer school.

The Promise We Made Together

Wei Wuxian makes an ultra-idealistic wish/promise while Lan Wangji watches and falls the rest of the way in love with him, and silently makes the same pledge inside his head. Later they will each refer to this as a promise they made together, which is a really super high level of face-reading by Wei Wuxian, to understand that he really is speaking for both of them here. While making this promise, Lan Wangji brings out his Yin Iron Magic Bag and waves it around in front of everyone, but nobody notices.

Let’s take a moment to consider *why* this moment is so powerful for Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji is a boy whose emotions are always on the boil. He’s 100% upset all the time, at this age, and he keeps it clamped down all the time. His cultivation level is probably as high as it is partly because of all the work he does in emotion regulation. (note: if you haven’t read all the meta at @howpeacefulislwj , go read it; it’s awesome and hilarious)

Wei Wuxian doesn’t GAF about emotion regulation; he just expresses what he feels, all the damn time.

He is openly bored, lusty, playful, hungry, whiny. He straight up tells Lan Wangji “you’re boring and you have a stick up your ass” as part of saying he wants to be friends; no deference and also no falseness.

And he can see right through Lan Wangji’s reserve, barging into his loneliness and isolation without any regard for all of his wards. Wards are made to be broken.

(Unrelated note: Young Lan Wangji's rare moments of contentment seem to come from looking at something beautiful--the moon, falling petals, these lanterns, his mirror.)

But Wei Wuxian is also good. Lan Wangji desperately wants to be good. And here’s Wei Wuxian embodying this awful, amazing, tempting alternative path, in which all the interesting things in life get explored thoroughly, all the sweetness and beauty gets consumed unreservedly, all the pain and ugliness gets confronted and endured without hesitation.

In this moment, Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji “you can change,” and then offers up this prayer/promise that is just pure chivarly, speaking straight to Lan Wangji’s heart. Very simply, I want to spend my life doing right. Not 3500 rules; just one.

This infuriating boy, who breaks rules and who flirts indiscriminately and who pushes and pushes and pushes, reveals himself in this moment to be a hero at the beginning of his journey, and Lan Wangji sees it, and his heart goes right over the cliff.

The Girls’ Room

The girl cultivators all rush over to Yanli to get in her business about her betrothal, inspiring Jin Zixuan to act like a jerk to her and get even further onto Wei Wuxian’s bad side.

Talk Shit, Get Hit

Yanli’s wish was that Wei Wuxian would grow up and be good. He promptly launches his own personal Sunshot campaign, punching her fiancee so hard that the sun falls out of the sky and the previously well-lit scene transitions to full night.

So, in English, “don’t mention it again” is really mild, akin to “I don’t want to talk about it.” Wei Wuxian’s reaction makes it seem like Jin Zixuan said something really shitty, like “don’t you dare mention that woman to me!” So I’m assuming something is being lost in translation.

Lan Wangji tries to calm him down. He grabs Wei Wuxian’s sexy arm muscle and basically holds it until the Jiangs exit the scene.

Nie Huaisang has placed himself between the opposing factions, which is unusually direct of him. In the future he’ll stick to being an unindicted co-conspirator when Wei Wuxian starts trouble.

Ants in my Pants

Lan Wangji thinks kneeling can make Wei Wuxian cry, which is adorable of him.

He really relishes this opportunity to be a pedantic tool to his new boyfriend that annoying boy he hardly ever touches, and it really doesn’t work out for him, poor lamb.

Jiang Fengmian stops by to show exactly how deep his affection for Wei Wuxian runs, and to give him whiplash from constantly changing parental expectations. In a couple of hours he’ll be laughing over WWX & JC’s hijinks.

Wei Wuxian takes this opportunity to fantasize about bad things happening to the other boy in the fight, which is in no way foreshadowing of anything.

Douche Dads Conference

We now convene this meeting of the douchebag council. Jiang Cheng is also invited even though he’s a prick, not a douche. <--important distinction

This is our first time meeting Clan Leader Jin Guangshan. He's actually the most sensible and best parent in this scene, but his smug self-satisfaction hints at his true nature. This actor, Shen Xiaohai, has been active in cdramas for a long while now. I wonder what he looked like 15 years ago?

...Holy mother of god.

Jiang Fengmian is the worst dad and the worst husband here. His clan believes in letting children do what they want - uhh YOUR child wants to marry Jin Zixuan. “I wrote a letter to her mother, who arranged this marriage.” Uhhh she arranged for her sickly, low-cultivation-level, sweet and vulnerable child to marry the heir of a rich and powerful clan, with a powerful mother-in-law who’s looking forward to loving and protecting her. Basically she’s guaranteed her daughter’s safety and comfort, and even potential happiness, since her husband may learn to appreciate her (and in fact, does, thanks to soup and repeated beatings from WWX).

Mom worked hard and probably spent a fair amount of social capital to achieve this. And you’re going to toss that aside because the boy thinks he’s too good for her? What the everloving fuck, how are you a clan leader in the first place?

You can see that Jiang Cheng understands all of this and what a terrible choice his father is making here.

So do the other adults in the room.

Jin Guangshen: our wives are going to kill us

Lan Qiren: I'm looking at a couple of dead men

Jiang Fengmian pointedly won’t listen to Jiang Cheng or let him speak, showing that all his talk about being free is actually bullshit, that only applies to other people’s children.

Jiang Chang vaults off of the deck to tell Wei Wuxian about it. Hottt

Sorry Sis

Wei Wuxian goes to Jiang Yanli to sorta-apologize and sorta ask to be let off the hook for fucking up her engagement, which he absolutely did. He knows it, which is presumably why he bows to her in paperman form while hiding outside.

At no time has Jiang Yanli indicated to anyone that she doesn’t want to marry Jin Zixuan, as far as I can see, or said she wanted to be defended from insults with punching. Look how good SHE is at defending a person from insults, for comparison.

Yin Iron Blah Blah Blah

The senior Lans meet with Jiang Fengmian to talk about the Yawn Yin Iron. Yawn.

Jiang Fengmian addresses Lan Xichen as Lan Gongzi, which is adorable, since he is a big boy to everyone else. His family calls him Xichen and other people call him Zewu-Jun.

Farewell and Fuck You

The three Jiang kids come to say goodbye.

Lan Quiren says goodbye with a heap of criticism for Wei Wuxian and the horse he rode in on, and Jiang Fengmian basically says, yep, that’s what he’s like, all right.

Good thing Wei Ying gets so much verbal abuse at home he doesn’t take it very hard when he finds it in the field.

Wangji doesn’t say goodbye properly, which will be a recurring theme for the two of them.

I don’t know if this is because he has a problem with goodbyes, or is just being a jerk, or because he’s so bad at lying he doesn’t dare talk to Wei Wuxian lest he reveal his travel plans.

Indulgent Dad Continues to be the Worst

Jiang Cheng complains at Wei Wuxian for wanting to say goodbye to Lan Wangji, and WWX says he likes him because he is equal to WWX in fighting, whereas JC sucks. JC hits him tries to hit him--gosh, he DOES suck, comparatively.

Yanli, who has been keeping these boys in line all summer, sighs deeply at her Dad’s tolerance for their hijinks. OP has five brothers and this sibling-hijinks behavior is 100% accurate, except for the part where it is happening at someone else’s house in front of the hosts.

WWX pretending to be Lan Qiren where Lan Wangji can see him doing it, in front of Lan Qiren’s colleague and supposed friend, and just earning a laugh from the patriarch? Good lord. Dad Jiang tolerating this is shocking, particularly in the in-show culture where corporal punishment is as common as tea.

We’ve tried Nothing, and we’re all out of ideas!

Uggghh why are you like this?

Here in the real world, OP uses “positive discipline” with her child, and encourages other parents to consider it, particularly if your child is neuroatypical or asynchronous. That said, JF should be punishing the crap out of both boys for this behavior every time it happens, or should quit being a clan leader. He’s relying on Jiang Yanli to keep them in line while he gets to just be amused by them. And he’s letting Lan Qiren discipline Wei Wuxian instead of doing it himself. He suuuuuuucks.

Lan Wangji watches all of this. Lan Xichen reminds Lan Wangji that without Wei Wuxian, he’s completely fucking miserable. Lan Wangji still doesn’t plan to bring him along on his trip, though.

Time to return to our lives of crushing loneliness

Rabbits

At this same moment when Lan Wangji is staring down the barrel of future loneliness, Wei Wuxian is already deciding to leave the (forbidden) rabbits in Cloud Recesses “In case Lan Zhan gets lonely.” This small decision by Wei Wuxian - breaking the rules of Cloud Recesses for the millionth time - is kinder than he knows. Because what is the job of these rabbits? Let’s have a desaturated flashback.

Lan Zhan spent 3 years in the ice cave. The rabbits kept Lan Yi company in the ice cave. So...did the rabbits sneak in to keep Lan Wangji company in the ice cave as well? I’m going to say yes. By ep 43 they are following him to the gate of Cloud Recesses so they are very attached to him. Well done, Wei Ying.

Where my bitches at? Seriously, our warren needs bitches

(Is Watership Down still a thing people read? If not, just go ahead and assume all of OP’s rabbit jokes are about Watership Down because OP ain’t going to stop making them)

While Wei Wuxian annoys the bunny he has a flashback to the scene that happened 4 minutes earlier. The Untamed editors assume the viewership has the attention span of a goldfish, and I personally appreciate that they understand me so well.

Wei Wuxian figures out that Lan Wangji is going on the road alone, and tells the bunny immediately. The bunny is very concerned.

Writing Prompt: What do next-generation cultivators Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi wish for at lantern-lighting time?

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #wangxian #the untamed gifs #cdrama #chen qing ling #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #the untamed spoilers

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

Note

...okay, so I know nothing about Dexter except he's like the but what 'if I kill a 100 killers?' meme, but what I DO know is him looking like a homeless lumbercjack in snow cause fandom had a meltdown over it - AND YOU TELLING ME HE'S IN MIAMI CAUSED ME TO QUESTION REALITY! D: [And hey, if you'd wanna advertise me the show my ears are open... xD]

RIGHT? Totally different vibe. Beard!Dexter is a blight on this fandom, for legit reasons other than just facial hair and snow, but those are still unforgivable in their own ways lol. I mean, Dexter's promotional material was a pretty cool mix of playing on his job as a blood splatter analyst (oh ho ho did he cause the splatter?) and playing on his outward image as the supposedly perfect family man (the ketchup he's using is actually blood!), but we also had stuff like this:

The setting is really crucial. If we were set wherever we are at the end of the series (I clearly loved the ending enough to remember where he moved to lol) that would very much mirror the whole serial killer thing; a dark, cold environment to reflect his real self. But by making it Miami, there's this wonderful contrast going on that feeds into both the show's premise — totally normal dude goes about his normal life in this bright, happy, gorgeous weather place — and, by extension, feeds into the show's humor too. It's harder to take Dexter seriously when he's out being all serial-killer-y in a Hawaiian shirt... and alongside enjoying that image, we understand, textually, why no one really suspects him. You know that post going around where OP shows that shot of Hannibal being all creepy in his library and it's like "Oh yeah there's NO WAY anyone would EVER think you're a SERIAL KILLER, guy whose name rhymes with 'cannibal.'" Dexter is the exact opposite of that. At the start of the series one coworker thinks he's shady — presenting expected problems for Dexter — but he's very much the outlier. You don't have to suspend disbelief to go along with everyone trusting, liking, and even loving Dexter. He is lovable.

And that's the cool moral premise. I mean yeah, he's a serial killer. Insert the inevitable tumblr comment about how you can't like the bad guy (/s)... but you're supposed to. Dexter starts the series with a wife, kids, beloved sister, friends at work, and he does love them all. It's not an act put on to get by. The show is very clear that the persona Dexter embodies to not get caught, while inevitably tied up in that Good Brother/Husband/Father lifestyle, is not the sole reason why he created those ties. The premise of Dexter is not "If a killer kills a killer, there are still the same number of killers on Earth, I am so intelligent." It's "What if a cop realized his son would inevitably become a serial killer, so out of love for him taught him to only kill other people who were a danger to the community? And then the son grew up desperately trying to maintain the life he'd built while also keeping his "Dark Passenger" at bay? Would that be fucked up or what?" Dexter is interesting both because he has his code — there are legit conversations to be had both in the story and out about what, if any, merit there is in this kind of vigilante behavior. It reminds me of a similar Criminal Minds episode where a victim hopes a killer won't get caught because he killed her abuser — and because he, outside of the whole killing thing, is a pretty likable guy. You're suppose to struggle with liking him, question what it means to be a monster, figure out what you're willing to ignore for someone you love, etc. Dexter isn't the Joker reveling in chaos for the sake of chaos, nor is his struggle such an angst fest that the show (at least most of the time) feels too edgy. He treats his "Dark Passenger" like a particularly annoying pet he has to take care of. Yeah, it gets dark and serious a lot, but it's also funny as hell.

All of which is made better by casting Michael C. Hall. He's phenomenal in the role.

I don't think any clip encompasses this tongue-in-cheek "He's just a normal dude, doing normal things, definitely nothing to see here ;)" energy quite like the opening does. It PERFECTLY uses the context the viewer has to make everyday actions seem sinister and then contrasts it all with the final shot: how everyone else sees Dexter. It is, totally seriously, one of my favorite openings of anything ever:

youtube

Absolutely watch Dexter. Yes, there comes a time when it goes off the rails and the finale is up there with the likes of Supernatural imo, but you can ignore that + the new season might fix some things if we're very, very lucky lol. If you enjoy police procedurals, monster of the week formatting, morally driven storytelling, unreliable narrators, and fantastic ironic humor, Dexter 100% deserves your attention.

#Dexter #mymetas

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repetitionsings · 3 years

Text

Sorting Cabin Pressure

I return! Briefly, because tumblr still hates me, and yet triumphant, because I’ve spent the last week re-listening to Cabin Pressure, and I want to talk about sorting the MJN crew. So let’s do some Sorting Hat Chats!

As usual, my view on these characters may not be yours, and if you have different thoughts, I’d love to hear them. :D Discussion spans the entire 27 episodes, so let’s say spoilers just to be safe.

Martin

Despite probably having the biggest, best-defined character arc, I'm finding Martin the main character I'm least set on.

Secondary-wise, I'd say he's definitely a built secondary; very little of Martin's improvisations seem to come comfortable to him. His insistence on doing things right and by-the-book feels fairly Badger, but his ability to be lured into shortcuts and moments of unprofessional behavior feels to me like a Bird who thinks that Badger hard word and toil is the best option. It also seems to fit with the way he becomes calm and confident once something works out for him, and then immediately loses it once things go wrong and he feels unprepared again. The few episodes where he really gets to be confident and succeed particularly feel Bird-y to me: relying on knowledge in Johannesburg especially stand out.

(That said, Badger also seems to ring consistently with the way he handles a lot of things -- his dedication to his job, his hard work, even the way half the time he does get confident, it's either because Douglas isn't there to bring him down, or he seems to be pretending to be him.)

Primary-wise, though, that's where I get tripped up. Not a Snake, I think; even his hesitancy to leave MJN is half about his own goals and issues, not fully founded in caring about others. Badger doesn't quite seem right either -- "being loyal and true to things or people that exist is more important than sticking to grander but more abstract ideals or concepts" does not sound like Martin at all. My first thought was Lion, just one that's still struggling to be as decisive as they usually are -- despite his hesitancy, and his instincts being 'follow the rules written by others', a lot of the Lion stuff seems to apply to him. "They are willing to sacrifice their safety, social harmony, and a certain amount of logic to do what they feel is right." "There is right and there is wrong. Things are black and white. Shades of gray are places where people go to play games, twist the truth, and to be cowards."

But... he does bend the rules, or sit back and let Douglas do so. If nobody who makes him feel like he has to put on the act is there -- see Newcastle and Qikiqtarjuaq -- he'll bend them pretty far. Trying to drop candy on a kids' birthday party (Johannesburg) and lying to a passenger about where they're flying (Timbuktu) levels of far.

So who's around seems to be a big part of it, which maybe could point back in a loyalist direction. I think in the end, though, I'm going to throw up my hands and say, maybe a Bird whose system is in progress from something fairly immature and black-and-white to something more complicated? Martin's devotion to his passion and his job above all else feels pretty Idealist to me, and this seems a little more fitting than him being an extremely malleable Lion.

Douglas

Douglas "at any given moment I never have fewer than seven ulterior motives" Richardson? Douglas "did something clever and now everything's fine" Richardson? Douglas "pretending very hard not to care about anything, actually cares very deeply, but only about specific things and specific people" Richardson? Is there even any point to considering an answer besides double Snake here? Douglas might as well be the model of it. Trickery is his first language. He schemes, charms, adapts, and lucks out in order to achieve anything in his sights, whether that's as small as a relief from boredom or as big as saving the day.

Motivation is trickier -- but it becomes clearer and clearer as time goes on how far Douglas is willing to go to save MJN, and outside his own desires to be the captain again, that seems like the biggest thing that ever drives him. Combine that with his hedonism, and the way he's happy to lie, cheat, and steal to accomplish most other things with no notable guilt or shame, I don't even see hints of a model or structure built over it; the things that matter to him are his own reputation and status (and even that in very specific, particular ways), and saving GERTI and her crew.

(That said, the more I think about it, I do think you could make a solid argument for Douglas as a rapid-fire Bird Secondary. Mostly built around Zurich -- his confession that his confidence started, not just as a mask, but wholesale imitating somebody else. There's also this excerpt from Finnemore's Farewell Bear Facts: "Douglas prefers to hang back, let other people make mistakes, work out the 'something clever' he's going to do in secret, and then present it with a flourish." While that could be Snake-y, I could see it as a Bird's planning working for someone whose very invested in his own reputation. That said, I still think Double Snake seems the most applicable overall.)

Carolyn

Carolyn's drives are a kind of mirror to Douglas', which is interesting to reflect back on. The two things she cares most about are how she's seen, and -- even if she sometimes shows it in her own strange way -- Arthur. Then Douglas and Martin start to rank in there over time, and eventually so does Herc. (Martin moreso than Douglas -- speculation, but I think it's probably because everyone knows Douglas will take care of himself first, so he doesn't need to be worried about so much.) Money matters to her of course, but several times it comes down to show that if money was the most important thing, she'd probably have given up GERTI a long time ago. We get it set out plainly as early as Douz: "Because I am the Chief Executive Officer of MJN Air. It’s a good thing to be. It’s better than... a little old lady."

I think it's possible to read Carolyn as an extremely burned Badger; there's something in how she reacts to her sister that makes me think I can see it. But in general, I'm more inclined to say Snake Primary. One that isn't fully burned -- Arthur's never really out of her circle, I think -- but does have a hell of a time opening up her circle to new people by the time of the series. Just look at the trial Herc goes through before he gets there.

Lion Secondary, I think. She's the immovable object to Douglas' unstoppable force, and Martin is the thing unfortunately trapped between them at times. She's stubborn and honest, hates playing at being nicer than she is and only does it when absolutely necessary, and cares about her rules being followed but not the rules in general so much. She's whip-smart, but she doesn't actually tend to be tricky or slippery in the same way as Douglas -- and in fact, the one time we really see her try to be actively tricky, in Timbuktu, she loses. She's more likely to ignore opposition or tell someone else to solve it, and even when she pulls something, it's usually pretty straight-forward. (For example, calling Hester's fans in Cremona -- it's an underhanded move against someone who's earned her ire, but not really a complicated scheme.)

Arthur

I think Arthur shares his mother's Lion Secondary. He's a force in his own right as much as she is, even if he's more of a tornado to her steel barrier. He's honest to a fault and very much always himself, no matter what the situation, or how much better it might be to try and do something else.

As Primary goes, it's hard to tell if this is just Arthur's optimism shining against everyone else, but my first instinct is Badger. He wants to be helpful, oftentimes too much so, and he likes them so much it tends to be notable when he doesn't like somebody. His focus tends to be the people in front of him at the time, but that does extend to include other people when they're there -- it's not just the crew at all times. While I think it's possible to see him in other lights, Badger seems to make the most sense and work with what we see of his wants through the series.

Herc

While most of the other minor or reoccurring characters don't show up enough for me to have even an idea, I think we do get enough of Herc to narrow it down some, if not make a completely secure conclusion.

My first instinct is that he's yet another Snake Primary in the mix. It works with his role as a foil for Douglas, and with his willingness to give up his position to be with Carolyn by the end of the series. (That said, I feel like his speech on why he's a vegetarian in Ottery St. Mary could point towards Bird Primary as well, and would make sense with everything we see of him.)

He seems straightforward in a way that doesn't line up with a Snake Secondary to me -- that could be a matter of the situations we see him in, but I still just don't see it in his conversations with Carolyn. I'd say maybe a Lion Secondary, in the way the two of them clash and he stands his ground. Bird Secondary also makes sense, but admittedly I'm having trouble pointing to anything specific that made me think so; there's just something in the way his manner bounces off the others, and in the way he seems to almost take on and off All-Knowing Air Captain mode.

In conclusion --

Martin: Double Bird with a Badger Secondary model Douglas: Double Snake Carolyn: Snake Primary/Lion Secondary Arthur: Badger Primary/Lion Secondary Herc: tentatively Snake Primary/Lion or Bird Secondary

or, as they say in Limerick... But for Arthur, they're all quite constructed With the Snakes bickering interrupted By a worrying Bird From the Captain's chair heard Til the newest of Snakes is inducted

Carolyn's Lion is strong and won't coddle Martin's Bird, leaning against his model Or the Lion she raised By the Snake she's unfazed And thank you all, for reading my twaddle

#sortinghatchats #sorting hat chats #cabin pressure #Sorting Things Out #m: cabin pressure #til binary systems run

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holylulusworld · 4 years

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Most prized possession

Summary: Dean Winchester, notorious mobster, lady killer – the man holding your life in his hands will not let you go.

A/N: I had a request for a stripper!reader fic with Dean so here we go with a mini-series to this request.

Pairing: Mobster!Dean x Stripper!Reader, Benny Lafitte

Warnings: angst, language, Dean being an emotional tornado, tension, light dub-con touching, dominant Dean, masturbation (sex toy), longing

Explosive - Masterlist

Dean leads you out of your apartment, a big smile plastered on his lips as you slump into yourself. There is something about Dean making you feel safe and scared to hell and back at the same time.

“Why did you destroy the mug? I liked it…” Sniffling you try to break out of his embrace. “I loved sliding my tongue over the rim of the cup.”

“You can slide your tongue over anything you want to in my house. I’d love to see your tongue all over me…” Dean whispers and you shudder as his tongue slides over your pulse point.

“It was ugly, and I want to make sure you are surrounded by pretty things from now on.” Pecking your neck Dean smirks as you whimper when his teeth sink into your skin.

“But…” Without your permission, your hands move to his head to press him closer to your neck. “You know me for like six hours, Mr. Winchester.”

“Love it when you call me like that.” Nibbling at your skin Dean grunts when Benny clears his throat behind him. “Remind me I have to tell you about the rules later.”

“Rules…” Whispering the word you follow Dean and Benny toward a black SUV.

Dean prefers driving his Impala but to get all your belongings Benny insisted on taking the bulletproof monster.

“Get in, Sweetheart.” Opening the door for you Dean watches you clumsily crawl into the backseat. He can’t resist. Squeezing your butt, he chuckles as you squeal. “Such a cute ass, Y/N…hmmm…”

“Boss, we should get going. People are staring at us.” Benny points toward not very friendly-looking people. “Gang or something. That’s not the safest place to live for sure.”

“My girl is safe with me.” Opening his jacket Dean smirks at one of the gang members, as he reveals his hidden gun. One of the men shakes his head, dragging his friend away. “Thought so, loser.”

“Dean let’s roll. I don’t think those assholes will wait any longer to attack us.” Benny nervously glances around. “Boss…”

“Fine, let’s bring my girl home.” Dean finally enters the car to sit next to your shaking form. The whole day was nerve-wracking, and you would prefer to have a few drinks and wrap your body in your favorite blanket.

“Boss got the blanket and pillow she told me to get.” Sniffling you want to take the blanket, but Dean narrows his eyes. “Dean, if you want her to feel better, just give it to her.”

“Give it to me.” Taking the blanket out of Benny’s hands Dean eyes it suspiciously but he can see you desperately reach out for it.

“Come here, Sweetheart.” Wrapping you into the warm blanket he rubs your back. “Let’s go, Benny…”

Nodding the tall man glances at your scared form. Benny is a mobster, but he pities you. Dean is one of his best friends, but he knows his boss is hard to handle. Especially for a shy girl like you.

“Where do you live?” Snuggling into the blanket you uncomfortable shift on the backseat. “Is it far from here?”

“Outside of town.” Dean can’t watch you squirm any longer, so he brings you onto his lap to wrap his arms around you. “Head against my shoulder and close your eyes.”

“Did you always live here?” Following Dean’s order your rest your head against his shoulder and close your eyes. “I never wanted to live in a big city like this, but I wanted to dance…”

“I was born and raised in a small town. Lawrence, Kansas.” Dean gently rubs your back to comfort you as he keeps on talking. “When my mom died, dad dragged Sammy and me around. My whole life was filled with…”

Dean’s eyes meet Benny’s in the rear-view mirror, and he clears his throat before he looks at you in his arms. There’s something about you, a hint of innocence and pureness Dean hasn’t seen for a while.

“You’re a small-town boy…” Giggling you nuzzle your cheek into the soft fabric of your blanket. “Not many boys from a small town become rich. I know one, Garth. He tried to make money and works as a waiter now. Poor guy…he’s a bit…”

“Don’t talk about other men! You’re mine and you will only talk about me.” Angrily clenching his jaw Dean narrows his eyes.

“Garth is an odd little guy. Funny but I would never…” Sniffling you look at Dean. “Why are you always angry at me? I wanted to compliment you for your success.”

“I…Still, do not talk about other men…” Benny shakes his head, not knowing how long you will bear Dean’s behavior.

“Not even about my dad or a priest?” Not looking at Dean you sigh heavily. Around the mobster, you feel like you need to walk on eggshells to make sure he does not explode.

“Your dad is fine.” Mumbling the words Dean pecks your hair. “But I am the man in your life now. I’ll be the one you will talk about, dream about and whose name you will scream…”

“I still don’t know why you want me. You don’t even know me, Dean…”

Exhausted you close your eyes, not wanting to talk to the dangerous man holding your life in his hands any longer.

“I know you…”

“Bathroom, bedroom, walk-in wardrobe.” Dean points toward several doors while you are barely able to keep your eyes open. “Left side is all yours…”

“I got like twenty pieces of clothing. I don’t need half of a room…” Glancing at Dean’s huge collection of suits, shoes, and button-ups you gasp. “I never met someone owning so many clothes…”

“We will place your stuff on the left side tomorrow.” Wrapping his arms around your waist Dean smirks as you do not fight his embrace this time. “I’ll show you how to get the best water pressure and leave you alone.”

Nodding you nibble at your lower lip as Dean opens the huge bathroom. It’s rather a ballroom than a bathroom and your eyes round at the sight of the hugest shower you ever saw.

“Wow…” Giggling you look at the bathtub. “I didn’t have a bathtub since I moved out of my parents’ house but theirs wasn’t that huge.”

“You can have a bath instead. I’ll get some food and you can wash your sexy body.” Humming you look at the bathtub again before you touch your cheek, hissing. “I’ll get you some ice too, Sweetheart. Now relax.”

Squealing you play with the rubber duck you found hidden behind the towels. It looks a bit odd, is taller than any rubber duck you ever played with but it’s pink and you like it.

“Ah, you found the good stuff…” Striding toward the bathtub Dean smirks as you look up at him with glassy eyes. He’s only in a shirt and tight jeans and you must admit, you like this style more.

“You look good in normal clothes.” Licking his lips Dean kneels next to the bathtub to grab the rubber duck.

“That’s not a toy or it is but…” Pressing a hidden button Dean smirks as your eyes round.

“Spread your legs, Baby Girl and press this nice duck to your clit. Do it for me…” Husking the words Dean moves closer as you hesitantly take the duck. “Just place it where you need it most, Sweetheart.”

Dean’s voice is smooth like silk now, full of lust as he moves his hand into the water to take the toy out of your hand. “Let me, Y/N…”

Gasps leave your lips when he moves the toy between your legs, placing it between your folds.

“Just enjoy and relax.” He’s slowly moving the toy up and down your clit, adds pressure to it as he can watch your mouth fall open. “Give me one, just one tonight…”

“I…this is…god…” Grasping for the edge of the bathtub you close your eyes, grinding against the vibrating toy. “It’s…uh…”

“Give in, Baby. Just let me hear the sweet noises you make when you cum for me. I want to hear it…” Your eyes flutter close and you wrap your hand around Dean’s wrist to make sure he doesn’t remove the toy.

“Please…oh…please…”

“Come for me…” You are a goner moments later. Cry out as Dean won’t remove the toy. “Good girl. So pretty when you come for me.”

“No more. Take it away, it’s too much…” Pecking your neck Dean removes the toy, satisfied with your wrecked state.

“How long didn’t you cum like that?” Nibbling at your skin he let go of the toy to slide his fingers through your wet folds. “Your pussy feels like velvet, Sweetheart…”

“Dean…”

Dinner is awkward. You can still feel the buzz in your body from the orgasm this dangerous man gave you.

It’s not that you do not feel drawn to the mobster, still, he’s an emotional tornado and you never know if he wants to kiss or kill you.

“Eat, Y/N. It was an exhausting day for my girl.” Pointing to your untouched food Dean moves closer. “Do you need another orgasm to become hungry?”

“I…” Clearing your throat you grab the fork Dean offers. “Can I ask you something without you getting mad?”

“Try me, Sweetheart.” Pecking the hand holding the fork Dean looks at you, mischief in the most beautiful eyes you ever saw. “I’ll try to answer it honestly.”

“Why me? Why are you that obsessed about making me your girl? You don’t know me, Dean. In a week or two, you will get bored and then I will have almost no clothes, no home, and no job.” Sniffling you poke the food with your fork.

Slamming his fist onto the table Dean gets up, panting heavily. “You still don’t understand, Y/N. You are the one, my girl. You are my most prized possession. The moment I saw you in the theater, ready to dance for those assholes I knew you’ll be mine…”

“Theater? Wait…” Looking up at Dean you feel a cold shiver run down your spine. “You were there?”

“To be fair, I wasn’t stalking you or anything. It was more that I wanted to meet a business partner. Didn’t know anyone else would be around.” Standing behind you Dean slides his fingers through your hair. “I saw you.”

“I didn’t dance…”

“Later, Baby Girl. When those asshole's not giving you a chance were gone, you danced only for me.” He’s silent for a moment, remembering the way you moved your body. “You were so beautiful, like a fairy and innocent.”

Speechless you glance at the food, not knowing how to process Dean knew you for over a year. “I watched the whole performance and then I wanted to leave but I followed you.”

“You’re a stalker…” Scared you feel Dean’s arms wrap around you as he nuzzles his nose into your hair.

“No…no. I didn’t see you for months, I swear. You were just a pleasant memory and then, you came to my club out of all the places and asked for a job. It was me, not Ellen suggesting you shall dance.”

“You made me a stripper?” Sniffling you wiggle in Dean’s embrace. “Why?”

“I wanted you to do what you love, dancing.” Huffing Dean let go of you to cup your cheek. “I know its not a theater, not even close but you are so beautiful while dancing. Maybe we can have a show. You don’t have to strip your clothes off, just dance for me…”

“Show…?”

“I got at least ten clubs and we have events sometimes. Usually, the girl's strip at the end but you can be my special event. The fairy among whores…” Dean exclaims as you don’t know if you shall believe a single word.

“I am not a fairy…” Grumbling you try to look away, but Dean holds your face in his palm, pressing his lips to yours. “You’re beautiful and my fairy. I’ll keep you safe and wrap you in silk.”

That night Dean paces around the bedroom waiting for you to sleep in his bed just like he imagined since that day he saw you dancing just for him.

“Holy…” Biting his finger Dean watches you crawl onto the bed, only wearing one of the pairs of panties you saved and one of his old shirts. “You look so fucking sexy in my clothes…”

“You stole mine!” Muttering you place your pillow onto your side and cover your body with your favorite blanket. “I still believe you are crazy…”

“Yeah.” Dean lies next to you, smirking as you turn your back on him. “Crazy for you, Sweetheart…”

“Why are you always so loud and angry? You can be sweet too, even caring but then you yell at me…” Sniffling you feel him shift behind you. “You could be a nice man if you wanted to…”

“Hmm…” His arms wrap around you and his face ends up in your neck. “I’ll try to be nice for you, but I want you to say it. Say you’re mine, my fairy…”

“I…” Lips pressing against your pulse point Dean hums against you. “I can try too…”

Explode Tags

@aubageddon91, @rosalynshields

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @sandlee44, @strayrosesbloom, @notyourtypicalrose, @thewinchesterco, @marvelfansworld @hobby27, @gh0stgurl, @flamencodiva, @jay-and-dean, @voltage-my2dlove, @spnhollis, @chonisberonica, @wittysunflower, @supernaturalenchanted, @shikshinkwon, @yolobloggers, @hhiggs, @laxe-from-outer-space, @ilovefanfic86, @linki-locks11, @eggingamazinglove, @trumpettay, @fandom-imagines1, @thenamelesschibi, @waywardbaby, @straycuties9, @drakelover78, @stuckys-whore, @zxph-yr, @i-love-superhero, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @deepmuffinspymaker, @katsav17, @heyitscam99, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @neii3n, @exo-nova, @cocklesbelli, @echoesofpassion, @lauravic, @shatteredabby, @deanmonandnegansbitch, @sea040561, @lemondropirwin, @lonewolf471, @wronglanemendes, @juniorhuntersam, @helpmeluci, @goodgodimaweirdperson, @shadowkat-83, @alltimesamantha, @officialmarvelwhore, @meganywinchester, @miraclesoflove, @maniacproffesor, @hollymac79, @kayla-2000, @gracefultrenchcoat494, @babygirls-fav, @spnwoman, @amiquette, @alexoloughlinlover32, @geekofmanyforms, @jessica-marsh09, @spnficgirl, @shut-themoonscone, @thequeenreaders, @countrygal17a, @atomicfandombomb, @kteelou, @soryuwifeyxx, @defenderrosetyler, @shortwinchester, @maybesomedaygayyyy, @tmiships4life, @sabascio, @that-place-called-middle-earth, @the-broken-angel-13, @bunnybaby89, @pandabiiissh, @maddiedott, @lilulo-12, @theoneandonlymelol, @mblaqgi, @clawsandshotguns, @justsomedreaming, @cassiopeia-barrow, @its-the-timey-wimey-winchesters, @mscarter213, @jo-like-josette, @mep6811, @prettydeaneyes, @rvgrsbrns, @deanwanddamons, @tearsforhan, @skittlebittz, @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel, @belovedcherry

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @negans-lucille-tblr, @deans-baby-momma, @thefaithfulwriter, @squirrelnotsam, @roonyxx, @neerness, @deansgirl-1968, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @20gayneen, @janicho88, @woodworthti666, @thevelvetseries, @dreaminemz, @akshi8278, @midnightsilver16830, @mrspeacem1nusone, @ria132love, @caligraphee, @the-witch-in-silence, @justanotherwinchester, @multisuperfandom, @jason-todd-squad, @jadesupernatural, @psychicforest, @luciathewinchestergirl, @magssteenkamp, @palefiregiver, @tranquility-or-chaos, @jxackles, @michellemxndes, @addictedtofictionalcharacters, @gabifernandessn, @waywardrose13, @adoptdontshoppets, @team-free-will-you-idjiot

#Most prized possession #Explosive - Mine #angst #mobster!dean x reader #Mobster!Dean x Stripper!Reader #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester series #MOBSTER!AU #mobster!dean x you #mobster!dean #mobster!dean winchester x reader

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jenoptimist · 4 years

Text

he had the personality, looks and kids loved him? the universe was really testing you, huh?

The day you were having was fantastic; the barista gave you three stamps on your loyalty card, the test that you took for your module went smoother than you thought it would, the group project that you had for another module went surprisingly well, and you even found some change on the ground. However as you sat in the diner with your cousin, you had a creeping suspicion that the day you had was to lull you into a false sense of security.

“I think there’s something wrong with my hearing,” you said in disbelief, slowly dropping your cutlery, “because it sounded like you just said that you want me to babysit.”

Yangyang did nothing but smile sweetly at you. “Nope! You heard right!”

You couldn’t believe it. You and kids? Yeah, you guys did not mix. It was as if you and children were the same opposites of a magnet which was a shame because you actually adored kids. You weren’t ready to have your own at the moment so you became a plant parent instead–your succulents were your pride and joy. You had six in total and as sappy as it was, you named each of them after your friends. Although admittedly, you were missing a plant for Kunhang. Not that he knew, of course. Or, well, at least you didn’t think he knew?

You hummed. “Whose kids are they?” Yangyang gave the name of your aunt, the one with triplets and you swore your cousin was trying to get back at you for something. “No. You know how I feel about those kids, Yang! They’re the frickin’ spawns of the Devil!”

Even though the triplets were only four years old, they have caused nothing but trouble for you. Before, you were swayed by their cute little faces but as time went on, you figured that they had some sort of vendetta against you. Other children usually stared blankly at you when you tried to play with them, clearly unamused by your attempts, but those three? They lived to make your life difficult. But to everyone else? They were absolute angels! It was infuriating. What had you done to warrant that behavior from them?

Yangyang winced. “Well,” you arched a brow at him which had him sagging his shoulders, “yeah.” You nodded triumphantly. “But”–you groaned–“please, y/n?” You declined with a shake of your head. Yangyang pouted at you and clasped his hands together, “oh come on, y/n! Please!”

“Nope! There’s nothing you can do to change my mind.” There was absolutely no way you were going to expose yourself to their beady little eyes. “It’s your own fault you said yes.”

The pouting didn’t stop for the next few minutes. When it did, however, there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes that you could idenitfy. It was the look he had when he used drag you in whatever shenanigans he was planning which, more often than not, resulted the two of you getting into trouble.

“I’ll tell Kunhang that you were the one who knitted him that horrible scarf!” Yangyang wasn’t wrong. The scarf was horrible because when you gave it to him, you had only knitted one or two items during a few weeks at that point. The stitches weren’t anywhere near perfect and there was a slight difference in color because the yarn that you originally used was sold out. But even with your awful craftsmanship, Kunhang never said anything bad about it. Instead he said that he was thankful that someone took the time to make it for him. Those words, paired with his angelic smile, was enough to make your heart flutter.

“You wouldn’t.” You said back, narrowing your eyes. All you got was a smirk in return. “Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll do it.” It was hard to fight your smile at his nonstop cheering.

You stood at the driveway of your aunt’s house, gathering the willpower to walk inside and make your presence known. You had spent the whole night mentally preparing yourself but now that you were there, you wanted to book it. You could do this. It was only six hours. What could they possibly do to you in that timespan that they haven’t already?

“Thanks for doing this on such a short notice.” Your aunt said as she moved in a flurry, wrapping her scarf around her neck before shrugging on her coat. The triplets were watching her and you were glad that their attention wasn’t on you yet. That was short lived because as she was hugging her children goodbye, they were watching you like a hawk. You internally cursed at your cousin, typing him a quick text.

from: y/n

to: yang2

you so owe me for this >:(

from: yang2

to: y/n

don’t worry, i already got it covered~

from: y/n

to: yang2

what’s that supposed to mean?????

from: yang2

to: y/n

(>ω^)

You took a moment to pull at face at his response before stuffing your phone back into your pocket. What was he up to now?

“I left some money on the shelf in case you want to order some food,” your aunt informed you as she pulled you into a quick hug. “Thanks again, see you later!”

The sound of the door slamming shut behind you officially sealed your fate. It left you and the triplets staring at each other and you shifted from foot to foot as you thought of something to do to pass the time. When you managed to smile at them awkwardly, your hand going up for a wave, one of them started screaming and ran off. It had a domino effect on the other two and so you were stuck in a house with three screaming children.

You scrambled after them, trying to capture them in your arms and maybe hoist them into the air–kids normally liked that, didn’t they? Unfortunately, they would somehow escape your grasp and blew raspberries at you before running off again. By the time you got them all to sit on the couch to watch a Disney movie, you were extremely exhausted.

When the doorbell rang you groaned, unsure if you could even walk to the door. Your legs felt like jelly and you were sure that if you were to look at yourself in the mirror, your appearance would be haggard. Another ring had you up, eyeing the triplets just in case they made any sudden moves, and made your way to the door.

“Um,” were your eyes deceiving you right now? “Kunhang! Hi!” He was wearing the scarf you knitted which just about covered his entire neck.

“Hey,” he smiled brightly, “sorry I’m late. I had to pick up a few things.”

“Late?”

“Yeah. Yangyang said you wanted my help with the kids?” So this is what that brat meant when he texted you. You didn’t know whether you wanted to yell at him or hug him. Maybe both, in that order.

“Oh, yep! I did. That’s what I said.” You replied with an awkward laugh at the end, stepping aside to let him in. The beautiful smile he was wearing still hadn’t disappeared. In fact, it seemed to grow larger as you led him into the living room where the triplets were, by some miracle, still watching Ice Age.

When the movie ended, Kunhang took the opportunity to introduce himself to them. You watched with a fond smile as they immediately took to him, your thoughts going haywire. Of course the kids liked him. How could they not? The three of them clung onto him and you didn’t know how he managed, but he stood up and started spinning them slowly. They erupted in giggles, excitedly calling out his name.

From there every little thing that Kunhang did with them made your heart melt. The way he paid attention to every single one of them, the way he praised them and his exaggerated reactions that had the kids stumbling in laughter. In turn, the triplets imitated him to get him to laugh and fought for his attention. Kunhang even took to helping them feed themselves, encouraging them enthusiastically and motivating them to finish the entire plate with the promise of ice cream.

The ice cream was a mistake. The children were practically bouncing from wall to wall, leaving havoc in their wake; cushions were thrown in different directions along with their toys. You and Kunhang sent each other twin expressions of horror as they started disappearing up the stairs. By the time they were tucked into bed, Kunhang was looking worse for wear than you were with his hair spewn in different directions and his hoodie had a couple of stains on them.

“We should probably get cleaning.” You suggested, already dreading the mess you were going to face when you stepped downstairs.

Cleaning the house was quicker than you expected. It was probably because you were actually having fun since Kunhang kept making you laugh. By the end of it, the two of you were talking about random things as you collapsed on the sofa. There was a brief period of silence that took over as he leaned his head back to rest on the back of the counch, closing his eyes.

With a soft smile, he murmured, “I hope our kids are as cute as they are.” That had your heart racing as you stared at him incredulously. That had to mean that he had some feelings for you too, right? But as soon as you were about to reply, he seemed to come back to himself. Kunhang shot up from the couch with an awkward laugh. “I mean–! That–! Um.” He groaned loudly, hand rubbing his face.

Again, you couldn’t even begin to respond because your aunt’s voice came from somewhere, announcing her arrival, as she shut the front door. She barely batted an eyelash at Kunhang’s presence, instead thanking the two of you and handed over some cash. She kept talking to the two of you until you exited her house and then a heavy silence blanketed the atmosphere. From the way Kunhang was gripping onto the straps of his backpack, you could tell that he was feeling just as nervous as you were.

“I’ll drive you home.” You nodded mutely at his offer.

How were you going to approach the situation? Clearly he was embarrassed, what with the way he was avoiding your eyes. But he didn’t even give you any time to answer. Knowing him, he was probably thinking that you would reject him or something. Which was entirely false. You have had a crush on him for as long as you could remember and to find out that he was possibly feeling the same? You fought the smile that threatened to creep up on your face. Was him mentioning your imaginary future kids a red flag? Maybe, if you didn’t know him.

After he parked somewhere near your apartment, neither of you made a move to say your goodbyes. Sunflower by Post Malone and Swae Lee was playing loudly until he drastically lowered the volume.

“So,” he started, after clearing his throat. “about, um, what I said earlier.” He trailed off after that, as if he was unsure of what he wanted to say.

“Well,” you said as you felt a surge of courage, powered by the thoughts of Kunhang–about how cute he was, how you have had a crush on him for the longest time and how you had dreamed about telling him how you felt. “You could at least take me on a date first.”

If it were any other circumastance you would have laughed at how his eyes practically popped out of their sockets, his mouth agape. But as it was, you were practically shaking with nerves. All you could hear was the pounding of your heart and your hands were starting to get clammy.

“Date?” The word came out like he was testing it out. “You and me? On a date?” There was a beat of silence and then, “seriously?” You nodded. “Oh wow. That’s– I can’t believe this.”

You gave him a winning smile. “Are you free tomorrow?” Then you frowned slightly. What if he thought that you were too eager? “You know what, how about next week?”

“No! Tomorrow is great! I’m totally free!”

“Great!” The two of you erupted in laughter after a moment of silence. “Well. I guess I better get going.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, sounding dazed. “I guess you should.” You went for a hug and shot him a quick smile after you shut the door of his car.

Just as you were about to walk up the stairs to your apartment, you heard him calling out your name. When you spun around, you found him running up to you with something in his hand that you couldn’t make out.

Kunhang heaved. “Got this for you.” He told you as he bent over to catch his breath, his right arm extending towards you. It was a succulent. A very pretty one at that. “I was gonna give it to you after we left ‘cause I was gonna ask you on a date. But then I said that.”

“I love it.” You took it from his hand gently, staring it at adoringly. “Thank you so much, Kunhang!” Now you had one to name after him. You would put it next to the one you named after Dejun, on the small table next to your bed.

“Now you can have one named after me.”

In your shock, you almost dropped your new plant. “What? How do you know about that?” You didn’t give him time to respond, already knowing the answer. “Yangyang.” You grumbled. When you got your hands on that kid, he was going to get it.

“Yangyang.” Kunhang confirmed, eyes twinkling with amusement. With a quick peck on your cheek, he quickly spun around and sped off to his car. As soon as he drove away, you took out your phone.

from: y/n

to: yang2

you are SO dead

from: yang2

to: y/n

snagged a date though didn’t you? now you can stop telling me about how much you like him ۹⌤_⌤۹

from: y/n

to: yang2

yeah i did but it doesn’t mean that you’ll get away with telling him i didn’t have a plant named after him >:(

from: yang2

to: y/n

ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡

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queen-of-deans-booty · 4 years

Text

Sam, Interrupted: Part Two

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,708

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

In order to figure out how Ted really died—it definitely wasn’t suicide—you needed to go to the morgue and inspect the body. It was easy to get down there, and while you were there, you kept a look out while the brothers inspected the body. If you were correct, then there should be some kind of physical cause for his death besides the ligature marks on his neck. Dean took Ted’s lower half of the body to see if there was something noticeable that would explain what was going on. Sam began feeling his head until he felt wo puncture wounds behind Ted’s ears.

“Hey, I think I found something.”

“What is it?” you asked.

“Right here,” he said, grabbing a Q-tip from a table and sticking it into the hole. It came out of the other side which meant there wasn’t anything in his head—not even a brain. “This hole goes all the way through to his brain.”

“What does that mean?” Dean asked.

“Let's find out,” Sam grinned, eyeing a bone saw.

“Seriously?”

“If my theory is correct, there might not be a brain in there which means the monster we’re hunting eats it through the hole in the back of the ears that he puncture,” you observed.

Dean took a step back and let his brother cut into the man’s skull to see if your theory was correct or not. Dean didn’t want to see this so he exited the morgue and stood right outside while you joined Sam’s side to see what he was doing. Once he cut into the skull, he removed the top of it off. Instead of a brain inside, it was a small, hard, black rock like thing.

“Well, that’s not supposed to happen,” you commented.

“Guys,” Dean rushed back inside the morgue urgently.

“Look, his brain's been sucked dry,” you commented as Sam held up the item.

“That's fascinating. Somebody's coming,” he whispered.

Both you and the brothers rushed to put everything back where it was before the person entered the place. As soon as the last piece was placed, the door opened and the really happy nurse—her name badge only said Foreman—walked in.

“What are you three doing in here?” she asked.

Each of you looked at one another, unable to think of a good enough reason to be in here. Dean did the first thing he could think of and pulled down his pants, exposing everything to everyone.

“Pudding!” he yelled, raising his hands in the air.

Both you and Sam stared at him like he was crazy, but Nurse Foreman only smiled.

“Alright, come on, you three,” she chuckled.

Dean pulled his pants back up and heads for the door. He turned back to you two with a wink.

“Crazy works,” he whispered.

Shaking off that feeling, you followed Dean out the door, but not before you made strange eye contact with the nurse. It was like she knew who you were or something. Now that you knew what was happening, you needed to tell Martin about this since he might know more about it.

“Are those original Gacy's?” Dean chuckled, looking at the wall covered in clown paintings.

“I painted those,” Martin frowned.

“Back on point, please,” Sam interrupted. “Um, so, whatever this thing is, it Slurpees your brain and sucks you dry.”

“Then it makes the deaths look like suicides. Any ideas?” you asked.

“Yeah, a bad one,” the ex-hunter sighed. He led you to one of his tables before bringing out his journal that he kept with him most days. He opened it up to a specific page and showed you the drawing he did.

“What is it?” you asked.

“Well, I bet you a chicken dinner it's what we're up against—a wraith. They crack open skulls and feed on brain juice.”

“You ever tangle with one before?”

“Never. Never wanted to, neither.”

“So, how do we kill it?” Dean asked.

“Silver. You so much as touch a wraith with the stuff, and the skin will crackle. Now, that's the good news. The bad news is they can pass as humans,” he motioned to everyone in the room. “It could be any Peter, Paul and Mary in the joint.”

“So how do we find it?” you wondered.

“A mirror. Lore says a wraith will show its true form in a mirror.”

“Okay, well, we just gotta spot check every patient and every staff member,” Dean shrugged.

“Okay. Yeah. But, I mean, what's it doing in a mental hospital?” Sam asked.

“Come on, it’s a perfect setting. Who’s going to believe a patient when they say they saw a. monster? It's the perfect hunting ground,” you explained.

“Okay, then we need to station ourselves near mirrors and just observe for the time being,” Sam said, taking the lead on this one.

By the end of it all, you were stationed near the entrance where people come and go, Dean was stationed next to the nurses’ station, and Sam and Martin were somewhere else that was out of sight. As you watched people through the mirror, you noticed Dean talking to someone even though there was no one there. It was strange to see this kind of behavior, especially when you thought you saw it when you two were playing checkers. It was really weird, and you didn’t know if you should go over there and talk to him about that or stick to your assignment.

As you watched everyone else, you noticed Dean stand up a bit straighter when Dr. Fuller approached him from the right side. His eyes went a bit wide as he passed by, and he made eye contact with you. He pointed to him, and you knew that you had the monster. Leaving your spot, you joined your boyfriend’s side.

“You think it’s Dr. Fuller?” you asked.

“I saw him through the mirror, Y/N. It’s him.”

“Who were you talking to earlier?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean who were you talking to? There wasn’t anyone by your side.”

“Dr. Cartwright. She’s assigned to my case. Come on, we need to go find Sam,” he urged, leaving your side.

“No, she isn’t,” you frowned, following him from behind.

There was no one here by that name so you wondered why he was saying these things. It didn’t take long to find and locate Sam and Martin, and it took even less for Sam to raid the nurses’ station to get four silver letter openers.

“Alright, I had to raid three nurses' stations to get these,” he handed them off. “They're only silver-plated, but they should work.”

“Thanks—”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Wendy, the girl who kissed you before, march straight to the group.

“No, Wendy, not again—” She walked right past you and shoved Dean against the wall and kissed him.

It was a long kiss, but she pulled away eventually. Everyone was shocked at this, so Sam didn’t know what to do when she did the same exact thing to him.

“I want them now,” she said to you. “I like men now. They’re… larger.”

“Hm,” Dean shrugged at his brother when the woman walked away. “You’ve had worse.”

“Fuller is on call tonight, so we'll have to hit him after lights out,” Sam changed the subject. “All three of us.”

“What? No,” Martin shook his head.

“Martin, we gotta get past security, past the orderlies, and then cut the boss-man's throat, okay? It's gonna suck start to finish, but we could use the backup.”

“Oh, I can't. I can't,” he shakes his head and begins to walk away.

“We know what happened in Albuquerque,” you blurted out.

“You don't know the half of it,” he stops and turns. “God, I used to be just like you three. I used to think I was invincible, and then... well, I found out I'm not.”

“Martin, you're still a hunter.”

“No. I'm not. I'm useless. Why do you think I checked myself into the Hotel California? I'd give anything to help you three, I would. But, I-I can't. I'm sorry. I can't,” he sighed and walked away from the group.

“It’s just us three, so come on,” you said, leading the group to Fuller’s office which was empty.

After searching it, you noticed his car keys was still here which meant he was still in the building.

“He's still in the building. Sam takes the west wing, Dean the east, and I'll take the north.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded.

After exiting the office, you three took your separate ways. Since the entrance to the north wing was closer to the east than the west, you went with Dean.

“I have a weird feeling with this one,” you expressed.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I didn’t get any weird vibes from him when we met him. The only person whose given me the monster vibes is Nurse Foreman, the really happy nurse.”

“I know what I saw, Y/N. Dr. Fuller is the wraith.”

“I don’t think so,” you whispered.

Approaching the entrance to the north wing, you were about to separate when you heard Sam’s screams come from all the way across the hospital. Both you and Dean booked it out of there to get to Sam. When you did, you noticed him struggling with Dr. Fuller. The doctor was clearly terrified since Sam was much bigger than he was, but that wasn’t the most pressing thing. His arm was cut due to the silver letter opener, but he wasn’t in pain at all from it. Rushing over to Sam, you grabbed his arm when he raised it to stab the doctor.

“Sam! It’s not him!” you yelled. “Look at his arm. That cut's not burning!”

Sam, once he realized what he’s done, he dropped the blade on the ground. Looking behind you, Dean widened his eyes in realization that he was wrong about this. Dr. Fuller was clearly scared of what was going on, so he didn’t move from his spot even after Sam was off of him.

“It’s not him,” you repeated to yourself which meant the nurse was.

There was something really off about her.

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white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen · 4 years

Text

The Salted Coffee Hit List

Summary: When it’s your turn to go undercover, some technical difficulties subject you to Neal’s mounting anxieties.

Word Count: 2,107

“Can we move this to your office?” You asked, tilting your head, baring your neck and subtly trying to get Ryan, an embezzling broker, to notice the faux diamonds plated in your earrings. He wasn’t versed enough in jewelry to tell they weren’t real.

Ten stories down and fifteen yards away, Neal and Peter were in collapsible chairs in the back of a van marked as an electrical service. Neal listened intently, his heart beating harder than it did when he was the one working an op. You didn’t have the experience he did, and this dirtbag owned two guns – and those were just the ones that were registered.

“Don’t push him too fast,” Neal warned, leaning in as if the surveillance equipment could somehow bring him closer to you. Maybe if he felt it hard enough, you would telepathically hear, the thief reasoned. He didn’t see the steady green light on the hardware. “You don’t want him to spook.” He wished he were inside with you.

“I think she’s got it handled,” Peter intervened, tone mild. You kept your face even but were grateful that the agent was stepping in. If Neal was fretting in your ear this entire time, it would be a challenge to stay patient.

Ryan looked behind you, put his hands in the pockets of his crisp black trousers, and looked back at you with a small smirk. His eyes didn’t linger on your jewelry – not the not-diamond earrings, nor the shining glimmer of pearls around your neck.

“Maybe we should wait. I’d hate to make a poor deal because you were hasty.”

Neal could barely keep his feet still, and he saw no point in holding his tongue. You didn’t respond well when someone talked to you with that tone of voice. He couldn’t blame you, but he also couldn’t bear it if your temper let this end badly. “Just let it go,” he said. Neal Caffrey had too much pride to beg… but he didn’t mind emphatically suggesting with his hands steepled. The brunet turned to Peter. “You should have gone in,” he said again, repeating himself from earlier. “You have the accounting background, she doesn’t.”

It took all of your willpower not to twitch. Between this rich, pompous jerk looking down at you like your pretty gems meant you had a slow brain, and Neal questioning your ability to do your job, you were losing patience rapidly. Man, that boy was going to get a talking-to after this was over.

“I know what I’m doing,” you said clearly and firmly, to both of the men on your nerves. Ryan’s eyebrows raised, a little surprised by the stubbornness in your voice. You couldn’t see Neal’s face, but you hoped he was cowed.

Two seconds later, you realized he wasn’t. “She’s pushing him,” Neal groaned quietly, putting his head down.

“I see.” Ryan was measured but civil. You were glad that this meeting had been arranged at a time when there happened to be another person in the company’s lounge. The broker nodded and you caught a glimpse at the top of his head – he wore so much gel that the overhead lights were reflecting off his hair. “Well, let’s take it to the office, then. We can talk in privacy.”

You nodded archly, letting him know that you weren’t taking no for an answer. He gestured to the hall and you went first, letting him direct you verbally towards his office. In the van, Peter gave a small, proud smile. He knew you could do it. You were well-trained and very resourceful, and no one spent as much time around Neal as you did without picking up on a few things.

Ryan’s office was pristine – almost sterile, even. It felt impersonal and uncomfortable, as if it were pulled from an IKEA brochure and was only there for show. It corroborated with your knowledge of the man himself as a control freak. The desk was a bright, reddish-color of a polished, expensive wood and the high-backed office chair was upholstered with suede. Ryan pulled out a less impressive chair (but still padded with suede) for you before making his way around and sitting at his desk. He leaned back and put his arms up over him, locking his hands behind his head.

“Let’s talk shop,” he said, putting his eyes on you. His body was relaxed, his face was amused, and his eyes were hawkish. You inclined your chin just slightly. You saw through that friendly demeanor… but you weren’t going to call him on it. It was better to let it play out.

Neal tensed, shaking his head. Talking shop was the last thing you should be doing – you didn’t have enough knowledge of accounting or investing. “No, no, no.”

“Let’s,” you agreed, ignoring Neal’s muttering voice.

“The entire meet is gonna be blown,” Neal told Peter, increasingly frustrated. The minute Ryan realized you weren’t really who you said you were, he was going to shut you down and kick you out and clean up after himself, this time with a lot more caution. And hell, it wouldn’t do to forget about those two registered guns. What did he need two guns for, anyway?!

The look that Peter gave him was less amused than it had been before. “Stop that,” he said, delivering a sound smack to Neal’s shoulder. “Calm down. Unless you want me to tell her how many times you insisted she was going to fail?”

You appreciated the threat, but you were already keeping score. And unless Peter shut up, too, he was going to be added to your little hit list of whose coffee to dump salt in.

Neal quieted and considered. He trusted you, but he was very worried. He liked being on your good side and didn’t want to make you think he didn’t believe in your ability to do the job – and do it well, at that – but he also didn’t want to stay calm when you were up there, on your first undercover mission in months, in a room alone with a guy who had two guns. Maybe in that very room. He listened so he could be on his toes and run in as soon as things seemed even a little bit off.

“My portfolio has risen by three percent this quarter and by eleven since this time last year,” Ryan announced. If you were feeling more generous, you might have called him prideful – but tense as you already were, you just thought he was being egotistic. You leaned into your chair, mirroring his posture. “And in this economy, that means something. I can’t afford to partner up with someone who’ll slow this firm down. My clients deserve better.”

Yeah, because you’re so worried about what they deserve. You held your tongue. He would get his dues for stealing from his clients soon enough, but only if you held your tongue.

“I agree,” you said, matching his tone closely. Becoming a behavioral reflection of your mark was a trick Neal had taught you, and in the few times you’d had the chance to employ the technique, it had worked surprisingly well. “Which is why I came to you instead of the dozens of other firms a taxi ride away. I only go for the best. What I need to know is if you can give your best to me.”

“I don’t give anything. It comes at a price.” Ryan unlocked his hands and leaned over the table. You crossed your legs, left over right, and sat up with your back straight. “And it’s not cheap.”

It was the crux of the conversation – if you said the right thing, then it was all going to be coasting for the rest of the meeting. You thought quickly, ignoring the voices that were literally in your ear.

Neal relaxed a little. You were doing well, you were mimicking the bravado, and it sounded like you were making a subtle play on the suspect’s ego. “It’s not that I think she’ll fail,” he told Peter, shifting in his chair and turning his body towards the agent.

In the office, you wanted to scream. It was impossible to craft your lines and manipulate the script with Neal being such a distraction every other minute! You bought time with your facial expression, looking at him and analyzing his face, proving that you were thinking it through before making a commitment.

“I know she’s good at this. It’s just that I worry. I worry about myself, too,” he offered, just to prove to Peter that he didn’t need to report to you about how poorly you were expected to do. “I worry about myself all the time. Especially when you send me into offices that might have guns in them.”

That made four ruined coffees for Neal Caffrey.

“I’m sure you do,” Peter grumbled.

“This is an investment firm,” you stressed pointedly. “People like us don’t go for cheap. We go for payoff. That’s what I’m in for, and I’m in for the long haul.”

Ryan studied you with an excellent poker face. You wondered if he hustled people that way, too, and focused on how you were a federal agent, he had no idea, and he was going to pay for all the bad things he’d done. Even Neal had the human decency not to take from the poor. Ryan was a snake who had put people on the streets.

“He’s not saying anything,” Neal observed, looking at Peter again.

Tiredly, Peter responded, “Yes, Neal, I can hear everything you can.”

“I’m mostly concerned with what we’re not hearing.”

Salt in the coffee had seemed like a good plan when you were making it, but now you were starting to think that Neal didn’t deserve any coffee, even the disgustingly salted kind. Hm. What was worse than salted coffee?

There wasn’t much time for you to think about it before Ryan’s poker face broke. “Payoff’s the name of the game,” he agreed, grinning broadly. He reminded you of the toothy, wide-mouthed grins of sharks. “Let’s look at this a little harder and see where we can fit you in, Ms. Y/L/N.”

~~~ The Salted Coffee Hit List ~~~

You deserved an award. You had even decided exactly where you would put this award: in your kitchen, on the windowsill, just behind your coffeemaker. The two things that made you happiest would be sitting near each other. It was a good arrangement.

As you were trying to decide what the plaque of the award would say, Ryan stood up from behind his shiny desk and reached across. You gave him your hand to shake as you followed his cue and rose, smoothing down the softness of your wool skirt.

“I think this has gone very well,” Ryan said, giving you a crooked but handsome smile, except for his smug eyes. You pretended not to notice, because if you paid too much attention, your mask might slip. “I’ll contact you.”

“When can I expect a call?” You asked, letting the man pull you by your hand out from behind your chair.

“By the end of the week,” he promised. He dropped your hand and put his near your back, not quite touching you but herding you out of his office. Your welcome had expired.

You let the grifter see you out the doors of the office suite. You gave him a wave over your shoulder, just a little bit flirty, before turning to walk towards the elevators down to the ground level. After you heard the heavy glass door close, you risked another look behind you. Ryan was out of sight, and you were free to talk.

“You know your microphones have been on this whole time, right?” You hissed lowly, furious.

In the van, Peter and Neal both looked at the recording equipment. The light indicating their line was open was indeed still on. Neal hopped up from his chair.

“I was just really worried,” he said, grabbing at his coat and making pleading eyes at Peter. If he didn’t leave the van before you got back, he wasn’t sure he’d be leaving in one piece. He knew firsthand how annoying it was to have someone constantly talking in his ear when he was undercover.

“Yeah, you should be,” you said darkly, “Because I’m going to kick your-“

Your voice stopped abruptly and Neal looked up while hurriedly buttoning his jacket. Peter pulled his fingers away from the buttons, took off his headset, and set it down on top of the machine. The microphone was off on both sides.

“Better late than never,” Peter remarked.

~~~

A/N: This was supposed to be an imagine... but it didn’t end up as one.

This was requested by an anon who said I could choose whether Neal x Reader were already together or not. I just decided to leave it vague, so it can be read as an either-or.

Requests are closed, but if you like this story and would be interested in commissioning another, my standard oneshot length is a little bit longer than this and pricing begins at $4. If you’re interested, please drop me a message/ask, or go straight to my Ko-Fi page!

#white collar #white collar x reader #neal caffrey #neal caffrey x reader #oneshot #the salted coffee hit list #humor #requested #lawmen and conmen #white collar lawmen and conmen #peter burke #reader insert

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matildastuartsold · 4 years

Photo

hshq task twelve: a timeline

it reads as a semi lil self para’s and part news report...bc i didn’t wanna self para as a 3 year old. tw: abortion, implied drug used, mentions of underage, mentions of age differences, image issues, pregnancy, mentions of possible grooming, body image issues, possible signs of bulimia,

december 19th, 1997

for the third time in the last four, almost five years, the town crier of edinburgh stood just inside the gates of holyrood announcing the birth of a third princess, named matilda.

june 18th, 2001

at three years old, princess matilda made her first public appearance with her family at the royal highland show. the littlest princess made her appearance well known running off excitedly with yells of “maude-y!” following her, showing off her cartwheeling skills, and waving at everyone who looked especially those with a camera.

november 30th, 2005

she doesn’t know a life without the media and having to parade around them. like today, skipping through st. andrew’s day activities some of her earliest memories surrounded people with cameras desperately clicking and yelling the names of her mum and dad, her sisters and her. matilda liked it though, she could simply become the only name they yelled with a simple smile or a wave. she liked it, but she was tired of being called matilda. she didn’t want to be called matilda, she wanted to be called tilly, like her friends all called her. it’s why she turned around with a frown at the reporter who yelled matilda. “i’m not matilda! my name is tilly!” crossing her arms across her chest, she stuck her tongue out annoyed at the her full name. even with her mother and father’s scold of “matilda!” and her tilly let her father scoop her up in his arms making a face at the paparazzi as she was carried away.

january 4th, 2010

“but i don’t want to go to gordonstoun!” not that even mattered, ever since her mother became a queen last year it was never even worth putting in her own thoughts, not that it ever had been. now though it was going against the queen, not just her mum. tilly just didn’t want to go to gordonstoun with her sisters. it seemed so boring. still the press release was already out, trunks already in her room ready to be back. “if i have to go someone will regret it!”

september 19th, 2011

crushes were nice, all the boys in her year, the year above her, some even in margot’s year paying her attention, she’d be dumb if she didn’t enjoy it. so what if she kept sneaking out with them to smoke cigarettes and drink beers on the roof. she likes the attention from it. what was the school going to do? make her do laps? please, she wouldn’t do it and they couldn’t make her. so she found herself giggling at whatever connaugh mcdaniels was saying and took the sip of beer he was offering, because all eyes were on her in a way that they hadn’t been before.

april 31st, 2013

“i’m the fucking may queen!” throwing her head back in laughter, tilly twirled around the flower crown a top her head never moving. sneaking out to go to beltane, was the smartest decision she’d made in a while. falling back against her favorite duke to be she’d been going almost all the way with frequently, she took the flask from her best friend, georgia, taking a far too long sip of the vodka. she was happily drunk, feeling the brisk spring air on the hill hit her. she didn’t care about the obvious presence from people taking pictures of them. it didn’t matter she was drunk and determined for her goal of the night, losing the v card. “richard,” she smirked up at him. “we should head back to the tent, your may queen demands it.” letting out a giggle she moved back going for another twirl as she reached for his hand.

july 27th, 2014

she still doesn’t understand what the big deal is, her mother pacing back and forth going on and on about propriety. catherine looking like a mirror of her mother’s upset. her father’s disappointment. “i’m sixteen, just because i’m under this bloody crown doesn’t mean i’m not gonna go out and have fun!” her eyes glanced at the various magazine and newspaper headlines in front of her. she doesn’t see the issue with it, minus the invasion of privacy, in the picture she’s just pressed against the wall making out with one of her guy friends. she’s hearing the words come from everyone’s mouths but she’s not listening. just blankly sitting there.

february 3rd, 2015

“you’re what?! tilly you can’t sleep with your math tutor!” tilly turned at the exclamation from her friend, a look of confusion on her face. “why not? i need to pass and he apparently wants to fuck a princess it’s a win win! besides he’s not that old i doubt he’s even thirty.” besides it was better than any of the guys in their class asking to lose it with her. at least it would be good and she’d pass. she didn’t see an issue. plus it felt good to be wanted, to have someone want her and not want her to be like her sisters. who cared if he was a married man approaching his 30s? he wanted her.

september 10th, 2015

she woke up on her bathroom floor in just the lingerie she wore under her dress before going out. not that she cared after all, she’d probs look skinnier from throwing up all the drinks from the night before. she brushed her teeth, throwing her hair into a ponytail. Wiping off the remnants of her make up from the night before she looked on at the stranger in her bed. “get out before a walk of shame is too embarrassing, for your own well being.” Watching the man leave she shook her head curling into bed ignoring her phone continue to blow up again and again, no doubt people seeing pictures of the night before.

may 4th, 2016

“fuck! jesus fucking christ i look awful!” seeing the press release photo on the cover of the magazine sitting in front of her on the table, she picked it up and tossed it straight towards the trash can. looking back at her partner for her textile project, she gave her a look. another example of her being the worst of the family. “tell me why you thought bringing a tabloid where i look awful in would really make a good study environment?” shaking her head, she picked up her phone seeing who could come over tonight, she might be able to convince richard to get on a flight. she’d slept with arthur a few times maybe him? there were more than a few posh boys at oxford she’d met on her visits. shaking her head she motioned at the fabric she brought. “they’re all recycled, should work for what we need.”

january 3rd, 2017

"matilda herietta annabelle stuart how could you be so wildly irresponsible?!” her mother is screaming, her father looks disappointed. she knows she fucked up because it’s just the two of them. having her parents attention on just her, she could probably count the times that’s happened on just one hand alone. she doesn’t regret flashing the paparazzi though, the magazines printed with trainwreck tilly subtle covering where she’d lifted her top, but it was still obvious she had. “i was drunk, it was hogamany, i must have been black out by that point.” she knew it didn’t matter, watching her mother go into another rant. still, it felt nice for once to be the only person that mattered to her parents.

october 31st, 2017

she was didn’t know where she was really not that it mattered. she went up to oxford to party with the posh guys and all her. you could barely call the white lingerie she wore an angel costume, something she thought would an irony. she probably mixed too many liquors and too many drugs together. still she reaches for the hand of the guy she’s leaning on pulls him to a door, hoping one will be a bathroom or a bedroom. with her luck she’ll see what happened tonight on twitter in the morning.

august 7th, 2018

they told her to be on her best behavior, that she’s technically working edinburgh fringe festival. still she thinks she’s doing a charitable deed. she’s buying these poor struggling actors alcohol and then getting into drinking contests with them. it’s all rather sensible if you ask her. she’s doing a charity besides it feels good being the center of attention. she’s sitting on the actual bar, a rather attractive actor from some play or some shit she watched today has his hand on her thigh. why would she do anything else?

september 7th, 2019

she knew that the braemar gathering was a big deal, she’d been to it almost every year of her life. still it didn’t mean she wasn’t bored as hell after a day of it, it’s why she’d pulled richard aside at the noble dinner at balmoral later that evening. her own personal playground as a kid, she knew exactly which cupboard to push him in. it would have been so much nicer if her mother’s fucking cheif of staff hadn’t opened the door when she was on her knees. the yelling wasn’t even bad, it was the punishment. her life being packed into suitcases around her as she sat on her bed back in edinburgh 24 hours later. no what hurt the most was her mother’s last words to her before she got on the plane to dubai, “i wonder if you’ll ever stop disappointing me.”

december 23rd, 2019

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me?! happy birthday, happy christmas, we’re marrying you off to the crown prince of venezuela! how could you do this to me mum? catherine just said-” she doesn’t think she’s ever been more furious in her life. opening the bottle of vodka and lining up the cocaine she said on her. “you know what i don’t care if i was drunkenly with him once, mother it doesn’t mean i want to fucking marry him! you’re ruining my life! forgive me, your majesty. i won’t forget from now on i’m your subject, not your daughter. have a happy christmas, goodbye.” she threw the phone, then threw a shot back looking at the lines she set up. “lola!” she screamed walking towards her suitcase. “i want to look sluttier than a prostitute whose rent is due tomorrow, a christmas present to my mother given my engagement. i don’t want to remember tonight.”

janurary 21st, 2020

she knew for days, something was wrong. she wasn’t how she always was, then she got sick, consistently, three mornings in a row. sitting staring at the line of positive pregnancy tests that were in her bathroom sink she looked at cora rubbing her back comfortingly. “i need to call or text or- there are only two people i don’t make wear a condom and i haven’t slept with richard since september.” grabbing her phone she sent a quick ‘come over now’ text. and threw her phone towards the bed. “burn the tests tonight, get them out of her, taking them to the fucking mcdonalds to throw them away if you have to. they aren’t gonna be anywhere near me though, it can not ruin everything. my mother already hates my existance, she’d send me to the fucking gallows if i ruined her one chance at getting rid of me. not a word of this to her spy either or catherine.”

janurary 24th, 2020

it was cold and she was crying. laying on the chair in the doctor’s office, she held onto cora’s hand like it was her only way of living and she felt so much relief knowing that if she needed it neil would carry her out of the building. “i know, i’m not the model catholic or really any religion, but i still feel wrong, i feel guilty. i don’t know what else to do though.” so she cried, letting her communications advisor and his wife comfort her like they were her parents. sometimes they feel more like parents than her own. when the doctor comes in, tells her its going to pinch and might be uncomfortable, she lets cora distract her with stories of her and neil when they started dating. while she doen’t need him to carry her out, she leans on them both the whole way to car, letting herself come to terms that she wasn’t pregnant anymore.

march 9th, 2020

“félix, i’m going to get fucking wasted at the beach,” she wasn’t sure when she got fucking domestic. she lives with her fiancé, they share a bed, fucking wedding magazines are sent to her. it feels like she’s in a snow globe. one where she barely recognizes who she is. she still looks in the mirror and remembers that if things had been different her stomach would probably have a bump now, not be the flat as it is. so instead, she’s taken to more day drinking, trying not to think about the thing only 6 people in the world know about and why it makes her feel so empty.

#hshqtask012 #this is 2200 words of why tilly is as fucked up as she is #pls send her to therapy #ok her go my triggers #tw abortion #tw pregnancy #tw body issues #tw mentions of bulimia #tw possibilities of grooming #tw mentions of age differences #tw drugs #ok i think thats it?? scrolling is so MUCH WORK #im on a roll tonight tho #*here go #as always i hope u all realize richard is a filler name and its a dick joke

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arecomicsevengood · 4 years

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Movies Watched During Self-Isolation, Part One: Mostly Just Paul Schrader Stuff

I’ve been watching movies during this period of not leaving the house, which goes back a bit further than just when we are all told to stop leaving the house. The streaming services I have access to at the moment are just Kanopy and The Criterion Channel, so I have been watching different things than people who have Netflix or Hulu have been, most likely. These things are generally older, and possess a different set of aesthetic values than things seem to in our era of codified genres and niche marketing. Even the things I end up not being particularly into feel refreshing, in aggregate. There is a real sense of “they don’t make movies like this anymore!” which means, in a lot of ways, movies that seem keyed into being movies, that seem to understand the role of actors as charismatic, mysterious, or sexy, that then dictates the stories that get told. Let me break it down into some specifics, which will then function as recommendations.

The Comfort Of Strangers, 1990, dir. Paul Schrader. One thing I’ve been watching is a lot of Paul Schrader movies. This one comes from the era of the “erotic thriller” and was maybe marketed as such, but it feels like a post-Peter-Greenaway thing, maybe because of the presence of Helen Mirren. Mirren plays one half of weird and creepy older couple with Christopher Walken. Walken’s voice opens the movie with a disembodied narration that sets a tone of creepiness right from the jump, but the disembodied nature of it, heard as the camera roams through a residence, also recalls Last Year At Marienbad. The movie is largely about a younger couple, played by Rupert Everett and Natasha Richardson, who are vacationing in Venice, and end up being stalked and sort of seduced by Walken and Mirren. The lens of sexuality is a huge part of this movie, but it’s this sort of mysterious force, like the gaze of the camera is itself a malevolent thing, because whoever’s behind it can be an uncaring pervert. Movies’ particular relationship to sex, and sex’s example of a compulsive behavior with capability of destruction, feels like it plays a large role in a bunch of the Paul Schrader movies I watched. I often chose to watch them because of this, their understanding of compulsion made them compulsively watchable, which I appreciated when I felt distracted or inattentive.

In The Cut, 2003, dir. Jane Campion. This has a similar thing going for it. In many of the film’s earliest shots, the camera follows the lead (Meg Ryan) from a distance, with bodies we don’t see the entirety of in the foreground, giving the impression she’s being stalked or in imminent danger, although mostly she isn’t. She plays a writing teacher who lives in an apartment where the head of a murder victim is found in the garden. Mark Ruffalo plays a detective investigating, they end up fucking, even as she becomes paranoid about all the men around her, especially after her sister (played by Jennifer Jason Leigh) is also killed. The interest in this lies in the fact that it’s directed by a woman and has both an oppositional relationship to the male gaze and an interest in depicting female desire. It feels pretty sordid and a little rushed at the end. However, the ending seems rushed because the person that ends up being the killer is a person Meg Ryan’s character had no romantic or sexual interest in, and so largely ignored or didn’t think about. It’s not a bad movie but to whatever extent a movie stands on the strength of how interesting its actors are, this one doesn’t deliver. There’s a cameo by Patrice O’Neal though, as like the gay doorman at a stripclub Jennifer Jason Leigh lives above? If I understood correctly.

Patty Hearst, 1988, dir. Paul Schrader. This one’s really interesting, and I’ve kept thinking about it for a number of reasons. One is the interest of the Patty Hearst story itself, which I guess I hadn’t heard the entirety of or thought much about. For one thing, I don’t think I really understood the concept that she was brainwashed or had stockholm syndrome? Which is one of the things that makes the movie good, or what makes Natasha Richardson, playing Patty Hearst, so amazing to watch: She’s really compelling playing someone who has no idea why they’re doing what they’re doing at any given moment, because when you’re brainwashed, you don’t know you’re brainwashed, which is both perfectly obvious to me thinking about now, but that I also need to remind myself of when I think about MSNBC viewers positive feelings towards Joe Biden, for instance. The movie begins with her sudden kidnapping. There are shots that show her, in flashbacks to her life before that point, in a blindfold, that I wasn’t too into when I thought they were going to be sort of the entirety of the movie, but is I guess just intended as a visual metaphor for this sort of trauma as a deconditioning thing that removes whatever sense of a historical self she would’ve previously had. I also didn’t realize the Symbionese Liberation Army was basically just a sex cult with very few members, that robbed banks essentially just to fund themselves. Ving Rhames plays the leader of a group otherwise made up of a bunch of neurotic and ineffective white people. A lot of stuff happens, it’s all pretty interesting, and it doesn’t feel anything like a biopic, it always feels like a story is being told, but it’s always destabilized, and always heading towards doom. After arrest, Patty Hearst’s lawyer makes the argument that, even though she’s clearly brainwashed and undergone great trauma, and that is why she joined in bank robberies and the spouting of revolutionary rhetoric, it will be impossible for her to get a fair trial making that argument as so many parents felt their children went away to college in the 1960s and came back brainwashed as different people, though they did it of their own free will.

Hardcore, 1979, dir. Paul Schrader. This one’s about George C. Scott as midwesterner whose daughter gets kidnapped on a Church trip to California and ends up in porno. I guess has some parallels with Patty Hearst in terms of preying on parental fears, but also has this sort of sordid exploitation-y vibe in its basic summary. Peter Boyle plays a private detective whose debauched nature really bothers George C. Scott, whose beliefs the film takes pretty seriously. The end of the movie revelation that the daughter basically did run away and hates her dad sort of comes from nowhere, but the daughter is largely absent from the entire movie, and the disconnect between her and her father plays out so much from the father’s perspective it’s not really unearned. It also makes sense considered in the context of Patty Hearst, which is both a deepr work, but also a historical one, sort of about the creation of the moment and cultural context in which Hardcore would’ve been made and received. I wish Schrader’s first movie, Blue Collar, was available on a service I had access to.

Auto Focus, 2002, dir. Paul Schrader. This was the first Paul Schrader movie I was aware of, it was sort of critically-acclaimed. I avoided it because it seemed somewhat exploitative and grossly voyeuristic, being about Hogan’s Heroes star Bob Crane, here played by Greg Kinnear, and his interest in filming himself having sex with random women lured in by his celebrity. The film is characterized by a certain glib irony, but it’s also defined by the presence of Willem Dafoe, who’s great in it, as a completely loathsome person, taking advantage of Bob Crane’s celebrity to participate in the sex he otherwise would not have access to, and hastening his downfall by transforming him into a totally debauched sex addict, before finally killing him. The contrast between Bob Crane’s wholesome exterior and his descent into depravity is mirrored by a contrast between the the sort of jokey mockery of that contrast and a lived-in sense of squalor in the depiction of two men in a basement jerking off as they watch porn together.

Light Sleeper, 1992, Paul Schrader. Dafoe stars in this one, alongside Susan Sarandon, much hated by some for her adamant refusal to support Hillary Cilnton. This makes Sarandon admirable to me, but I don’t know how much I’ve seen her in. She’s in Louis Malle’s Atlantic City, also on the Criterion Channel, a movie I thought was great when I saw it but have forgotten almost everything about in the years since. Dafoe plays a mid-level drug dealer, who’s been off drugs for a few years, and Sarandon is his higher-level contact, who’s looking to get out of selling entirely and enter the cosmetics business. Dana Delaney plays Dafoe’s ex-wife, from his addict days, back in town because her mother is dying in the hospital. The compulsion towards sex that’s present in a bunch of other Schrader movies is replaced here with drug addiction as this force to fight against, or exist in tension with, and also love, which is very present in this movie and very tender. The movie also boasts early-career cameos by Sam Rockwell and David Spade, and the great Jane Adams plays Dana Delaney’s sister. Delaney’s character ends up relapsing and dying, probably due to the shock of her mother’s death, probably not helped by the unplanned reminder of DaFoe’s character. It seems very rare for a movie to have roles as strong for women as this movie does. Even the psychic who Dafoe sees in two scenes, played by Mary Beth Hurt, who I don’t know from anything else, is great.

La Truite, 1982, dir. Joseph Losey. A friend of mine highly recommended Joseph Losey’s film Mr. Klein, but that one’s hard to track down. This stars a young Isabelle Huppert as a young woman who gets flown out to Japan by a rich businessman. He doesn’t have sex with her, just sort of enjoys the money being lavished on her, but her husband, who she also does not seem to have sex with, gets pretty pissed about it.

Eva, 1962, dir. Joseph Losey. This is a really similar movie from Joseph Losey in a lot of ways. It stars Jeanne Moreau, who also has a smaller part in La Truite, and it’s also about a woman whose whole deal is getting money from rich dudes and not having sex with them. In La Truite, Huppert’s life gets kind of ruined, in this movie, Moreau does the ruining, of an author/hack who is married to an actress from one of his work’s movie adaptations who doesn’t know what the he confesses to Moreau, which is that he stole the book from his dead brother and didn’t write a word of it. I wasn’t that into either of these movies but I feel like the sort of archetype, of like a young beautiful woman who doesn’t want sex and sort of just busts men’s balls “works” in a film, how film’s objective or ambivalent view makes their motivations opaque in a way that allows them to be compelling to male and female audiences alike, if for different reasons. Vera Chytilova’s Daisies plays on this sort of youthful feminine brattiness too, to a more anarchic effect. None of these characters have as much depth as Patty Hearst or any of the women in Light Sleeper but they nonetheless suggest the possession of such, kept far away from the camera’s eye.

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theonethatcompletesyou · 5 years

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Closer, Faster | Kyungsoo (EXO)

Genre: Fluff, High School AU! Pairing: Kyungsoo x Reader Word Count: 2,188 Warnings: None!

You lift me up, take my feet off the ground With just one look, it's like you've got me now Left me speechless, didn't know I'd feel this Just say yes, boy, you know that we could do this — “Closer, Faster” by Against the Current

A/N: I actually had this one written since the end of last year, whoops! Well, better late than never? This is my first time writing Kyungsoo so I hope you guys like it!

Summary: You put your friend’s love letter in the wrong locker at school. It somehow works in your favor.

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Ringing had startled you awake. You flipped over to your side and curled your pillow over your ears to make it go away. You had a moment of peace before the ringing had started again. You groaned. Admitting defeat, you picked up your phone and saw that Hana was calling you. Frowning, you answered the phone reluctantly.

“Hello?” you asked, nustling your phone between your ear and your pillow. “What do you want, Hana?”

“I need a favor,” she said bluntly.

“You always need a favor,” you sighed. “What is it now?”

“I’m done with my love letter to Jongdae.” Her voice was much too chipper for 6am. “I need you to deliver it for me.”

“You do know that it would look like I like him if I delivered it, right?” you commented.

“Duh.” You could practically hear her eye roll. “Which is why you’re going to put it in his locker!”

“This isn’t an anime, Hana,” you grumbled. “You can just confess to him.”

“I’ll buy you coffee.”

“Tempting.” You got up from the bed, shivering against the cold air as you made your way to the bathroom. “But no.”

“I’ll buy you coffee all week.”

This made you stop in your tracks. You weighed your options. You hated being your friend’s lackey when it comes to Jongdae—the singing telegram incident was still a joke amongst your friends—but the allure of coffee was too hard to ignore. “Fine.”

“Good. Meet me at school in half an hour,” you pulled the phone away from your face when she hung up. You sighed, making your way over to the bathroom to start your day.

When you got to the school, Hana handed you a surprisingly thick red envelope. “Is this a love letter or a manifesto?” you joked, feeling the weight of it in your hands. You winced when Hana punched you in the arm in response.

You reached out to the coffee cup she held in her hand until she—harshly, cruely—tugged it out of your reach.

“This will be given to you upon successful delivery,” she said with a smirk.

“C’mon, Hana!” you whined. “You know I need the stuff!”

“You addict!” she snapped. “You better get it done quickly, then!”

You immediately turned around and started to head inside the building.

“Locker 1407!” she yelled.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, waving her off.

You stood in front of the locker, sighing. You looked around to make sure that the hallway was empty before slipping the thick letter into the slot of 1470.

You gave the locker a small salute, “Godspeed.”

You began to walk away when you bumped into someone. You looked up to see Do Kyungsoo glaring at you. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Do Kyungsoo was a boy at your school that you didn’t have the pleasure of talking to outside of Chemistry. He was famous around the school for being friends with the rest of the football team despite not being on the football team himself.

“Sorry!” you exclaimed. “Wait, did you see any of that?”

He pointed to the locker, “Did you just—”

You covered his mouth with your hand. “Do not tell anyone I was here,” you hissed with an intense stare. “Understand?”

Kyungsoo nodded, his eyes wide. You released him with a sweet smile.

“I appreciate it!” you yelled as you bound down the hallway. “See you in chem!”

Hana was sitting on a bench when you met up with her again. You sat down next to her and sank into the seat. There was still a bit of time before school started.

“Here you go, you addict,” she said, handing the coffee over to you.

“Thank you!” you exclaimed. You cradled the warm cup in your hands. The smell wafted into your nose and you sighed contently.

“And you put it in the right locker, right?”

“Yup,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee. “1470.”

You were so into the coffee trace that you failed to notice Hana’s eyes flash with anger. You were only clued into it when she started to hit you with her textbook. “You. Are. An. Idiot!”

“What’d I do?!” you whined.

“It was locker 1407! One! Four! Zero! Seven!” She punctuated each number with a hit to your head.

You were annoyed at your friend’s behavior. You did exactly what she—

Oh.

“Oh no,” you said, eyes wide.

“Oh yes,” Hana said with a sneer. “So whose locker was it?!”

“I have no clue! Up until now, I thought it was Jongdae’s!”

“Oh god,” she rubbed a hand over her face before she fixed a glare at you. “You need to fix this!”

“How?” you whined, pouting into your coffee.

“I wrote that if he wanted to know who his secret admirer was, to meet them under the bleachers at 3pm. You have to meet this person and tell them that they got it all wrong.”

“Why do I have to go?!” You asked incredulously.

“It’s your screw up!” Hana exclaimed, waving her arms erratically. “All you had to do was remember four numbers!”

“Fine!” You growled, stomping away to get to your first class.

You stood under the bleachers, shifting from side to side. Your stomach was constantly flipping and clenching with your nervousness.

You couldn’t believe that Hana was punishing you like this.

Footsteps approached you. Inside, you hoped and prayed that this person was cute.

You looked up and locked eyes with Do Kyungsoo. All of your breath escaped you at once. He didn’t sport his signature glare, you suspected that it was because of the thick-rimmed glasses that adorned his face. This left him staring at you with dark eyes blinking owlishly at you.

“(Y/N)?” Oh my god, his voice was so deep. Was it always like that? “You’re the one that left me that letter, right?”

You nodded in agreement. Technically it wasn’t a lie, and you didn’t trust your mouth to deny him. You hated the fact that Kyungsoo received the letter, he was too nice of a guy to reject.

Kyungsoo looked away, a faint blush creeping up on his cheeks. “Y-you think I’m a perfect specimen of a man?”

You cursed your best friend in your head. Goddamn you, Hana. Why did you put such creepy language in your love letter?

You scratched the back of your neck. “Sorry. I use very… strong writing. It was the only way I could express how I felt about you. I apologize if it made you uncomfortable.”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I was flattered. I was actually… hoping it was you.”

Your jaw dropped. “You did?”

Kyungsoo blushed harder, still not meeting your eyes. He tapped his index fingers together. “Yeah. I’ve liked you for a while. So seeing you here makes me happy.”

“It does? You do?” you asked, probably louder than you were supposed to.

He looked up at you, giving you a slight smile. “Is it really that surprising?”

You had to look away in embarrassment now. “A little, yeah. I didn’t think you noticed me. You’re usually looking down a lot, even when we work together in class.”

He bit his nail. “I didn’t think you noticed me either. So when I read the letter, I was surprised. And seeing you here before me...” He sighed. “I feel brave enough now.”

You gulped, anticipation was creeping into your veins. “Brave enough to do what?”

He stepped closer to you. Your heartbeat skyrocketed and rushed in your ears that you almost didn’t catch what he said next.

“(Y/N). Will you go out with me?”

You smiled, really appreciating this turn of events. Would it be selfish to keep up this lie if it meant finally having Kyungsoo’s gaze on you?

Probably. Yes.

You sighed. This made Kyungsoo look at you with wide eyes.

“The letter wasn’t meant for you, Kyungsoo.” The words felt heavy in your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

Kyungsoo’s entire face fell, and you knew immediately that you hated being the one who did that to him.

“Who was it meant for?” he asked in a small voice.

You looked away. “It was meant for Jongdae.”

“Oh.” Was all he said, and that one word hit you like a ton of bricks. “Well, I’m friends with him, so if you want me to introduce you...”

Your head snapped up to him, you furrowed your brows in confusion. “Why would you do that?”

He met your eyes with a confused gaze that mirrored your own. “Because you like him?”

“I don’t!” you scoffed.

That answer didn’t satisfy him; if anything, it made him more confused. “But the letter was meant for him!”

“That’s because my friend wrote it! I was delivering the letter and put it in the wrong locker by accident!”

Kyungsoo blinked once. Twice. “Oh,” he breathed out. “Wait, before I get my hopes up. Does that mean you like me?”

“I don’t not like you, Kyungsoo. I just didn’t think you noticed me. I think you’re very handsome though. So if your offer of a date if still open, then I’d love to get to know you better.”

Kyungsoo smiled again, and you know at that moment that you were going to like him so hard.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, his dark eyes gave away some of his happiness.

“It’s a hell yes.” you answered with a smirk.

He stepped closer to you and your heart lept in your throat. His smile made your heart melt as he leaned closer to you. You closed your eyes in anticipation—

“Get away from him, you creep!” yelled a deep voice. You and Kyungsoo jumped, startled by the sudden noise.

You looked to find Park Chanyeol, Oh Sehun, and their respective girlfriends run towards you. When they reached you, Chanyeol pulled Kyungsoo away from you and tucked him in his arms. Sehun also curled an arm around Kyungsoo protectively.

Chanyeol’s girlfriend stood by his side while Sehun’s girlfriend stood in front of them in her leather jacket-clad glory. She raised a baseball bat threateningly at you as if poised to strike. They all gave you matching glares.

Kyungsoo looked at his friends in confusion, stunned into silence.

You, on the other hand, raised your hands in surrender. “What is going on here?”

“We’re protecting our friend from you,” Sehun sputtered, wary. “So stay away from him, you—you harlot!”

“I don’t think harlot works in this situation, darling,” his girlfriend muttered.

“We can talk about my use of vocabulary after we save Kyungsoo-hyung,” Sehun retorted.

You shook your head. “Wait. I’m still not following.”

Chanyeol sighed, “We saw your creepy love letter, you stalker. We know you probably want to kidnap our friend and turn his skin into a suit or something.”

“First off, gross.” You commented. “Second, I think you guys are reading this all wrong.”

Taking advantage of the distraction, Kyungsoo bit Chanyeol’s arm, which made him scream and he ran toward you. He stuck close to your side, trying to appease his friends. “She’s right, you guys. Turns out that the letter was her friend’s and it was accidentally put in my locker. Everything is good here!”

“Really?” Chanyeol asked warily.

You rolled your eyes, but you nodded.

Kyungsoo’s friends relaxed, Sehun’s girlfriend dropped the baseball bat.

“Although, I’m kind of worried about the kind of letter that my friend wrote. Can I see it?” you asked. Chanyeol shrugged and fished out the familiar red envelope out of his jacket. He handed it to you, you noticed that the letter was much more wrinkled than when you saw it last.

You opened the envelope and pulled it out. Your eyes widened in horror. Kyungsoo’s friends were not joking when they said that it was creepy as hell. Instead of a simple handwritten letter, each letter or word was replaced with magazine and newspaper clippings, akin to ransom notes.

“Kyungsoo,” you said, unimpressed. You stared him down with a blank look. “The letter looks like it came right out of a serial killer’s brain and you still came out to meet me? I would have ran for the hills if I got this.”

“Her glare is so scary!” You heard Chanyeol’s girlfriend comment.

“She’s perfect for him!” Chanyeol remarked with a laugh.

Kyungsoo only gave you a shrug. “I thought it was creative.”

#exowritersnet #kyungsoo scenarios #exo scenarios #exo d.o.#do kyungsoo #d.o. scenarios #kiki writes stuff sometimes #mine

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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 6 years

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Dissonance Chapter Fourteen (END)

Description: After spending a year studying abroad in America, Y/N returns to Seoul hoping to greet the familiar city as a new girl. But what will she do when she’s met with old friends she’d rather forget? It seems the strings of fate are determined to test her resolve…and her willpower.

Genre: Fluff and Angst

Pairing: Taehyung x (f) Reader

Word Count: 11.2k

Tags: Badboy!Taehyung, Non-Idol!Au, Rockband BTS!Au, Bassist Taehyung!Au

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently

A/N: Hello my loves! Thank you for giving this story so much love and support. It’s truly meant the world to me to be able to share this journey with you and I can’t wait for many more to come! I hope I can continue improving and giving you guys stories you’ll enjoy. I’m really glad you guys have stayed with me through this story. I love you all endlessly. If you’re looking for something to read in the meantime during my break, please give my friend @musicandmusing a look! She’s working on a really wonderful Namjoon fic called Metanoia and I think you guys will really like it! That said, please feel free to shoot me a message! I’ll respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them. And as always, please send feedback, critique, criticism, or questions my way so I can address them!

ALSO!! Very important 1.0:

The next fic I will be posting is a Jimin fic! I thought about opening a poll like I did for this one, but the idea I’m working on for this story is something I’d had in my head and on paper for a long time. I realized it worked WAY better as a fanfiction than a public story, and Jimin fit the main male character I had in mind pretty perfectly. That said, I’ll post some introduction to the story soon! I should be back to a regular posting schedule pretty soon after I get back from Korea, since I’ll be working on the new story while I’m there! Anyway, let me know if you guys like the idea of a Jimin fic and keep in touch!

Very Important 2.0:

As I kind of mentioned above, I will be in South Korea from July 7th until July 17th! I plan on taking loads of videos and photos and I’ll post all of them, but if you guys have anything you really want to see first-hand, send me a message and I’ll try to get a video or picture! I can’t promise I’ll be able to do it all, but I’d love to sort of…idk, take you guys along with me? I really love video editing and do it as a hobby in my free time (lmao Golden Closet who?) so I’ll be working on a few nicely edited videos to post once I come back. But in the meantime, I’ll post some raw photos and videos here while I edit the big ones! Also I’ll have wifi the entire time as well as data so I’ll be in contact the whole trip.

- Mercury

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I sat between my mother and father on a warm trolley as it tumbled down the street, all three of us silent in the back. I remembered this day being a bad one. I stared down at my lap, at the way the pretty lilac dress my mother had bought me was stained with grass and mud. I ran a small finger over the stains and sighed. My father crossed his arms truffle at my left as my mother sat silently, reading a magazine she’d picked up along the way. It was the first time I’d ever been out of the country. San Francisco whizzed past me out the window of the trolley and in the distance I could see the bright blue of the ocean glittering in the sunlight. It was a beautiful summer day, and the wind felt soft against my cheeks and hair as it slipped in through the open sides of the trolley. I’d never seen anything like it.

Eagerly, I tapped my mother’s arm and pointed at a man in a black wetsuit, carrying a surfboard towards the beach. “Mom, look,” I said.

She glanced up for a brief moment before sighing and returning to her magazine. She adjusted the sunhat on her head. In my excitement, I’d forgotten for a moment that I was in trouble. I stared down at those stains on my dress, wondering if washing them out might make my parents happy with me again. Of course, even as a child I knew better. They weren’t mad about the dress after all.

I traced my fingertips along the bruise forming on my knee, then the ones slowly showing on my exposed forearms. I winced a little as I touched them, and began to fret. If the bruises stayed, a constant, physical reminder of my mistake, then my parents might still be mad. Every time they saw them for as long as they lasted on my skin, they’d remember what I did. Suddenly, I no longer wanted to erase the evidence from my dress, but my body entirely.

“You’re so irresponsible!” screamed my mother an hour earlier as she found me crying on the grass near the hotel pool.

I rubbed my eyes and shook my head. “He was mean to me!” I wailed, tears marching down my young, flushed face.

She was fuming, glaring down at me with a mixture of frustration and worry. “When someone is mean to you do you have to be mean back?” she asked.

I sniffled and shook my head, suddenly bashful. “No,” I said quietly.

She nodded and crouched in front of me, brows set low. “If someone pushes you, do you have to push back?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Then why in the world would you tackle that boy?!” she shouted, gripping her nose between her fingers. Above her head, the tops of palm trees swayed as they got caught up in the breeze. I wondered if I could get caught up too, carried away.

I opened my mouth to speak, but instead of words only more sobs emerged and I had to clamp a hand over my lips to stop them. My mother glanced around the pool anxiously as parents and children paused to stare at us. I caught sight of the boy I’d tackled as he cried into his mother’s arms. His mother continued to shoot glared our way, but when our eyes met she quickly looked away and returned to soothing her son.

I stared up at my own mother as her eyes scanned the area and my sobs quieted down. I just watched her for a while, how preoccupied she was with the way the families looked at us. The misbehaved daughter. The angry mother. The crying victim. I saw it all somehow like a dumb movie.

She leaned down close to me and, without moving her jaw, she spoke. “Y/N, you are in so much trouble,” she whispered. “You know that right?”

I nodded and sniffled, taking one last look at the little boy as his mother rubbed circles into his back. I glanced back at my own mother whose eyes only fleetingly met mine before she took my hand and pulled me behind her back into the hotel. Her grip on my hand slipped to my wrist and I tried not to recoil against it, as the skin was still tender from that boy grabbing me there. She walked briskly back into the elevator, all the while rattling off scoldings rapid-fire while I struggled to match her pace.

When we emerged in the spacious hotel room, my father was buttoning up his shirt and only spared us a short look. When his eyes came upon me, his expression fell and he sighed. “What happened?” he asked.

“She got in a fight,” mumbled my mother as she released me. “A pretty bad one. By the time I got there, she had the boy pinned.”

“A boy?” asked my dad with a chuckle that lacked all humor. His gaze returned to the long mirror he stood in front of, adjusting his collar. “That dress was expensive.”

I glanced down at it and noticed the stains on the front from where my knees had dug into the ground as I sat on top of the boy’s chest. Horrified, I began patting at it, hoping the smudges would wear off. My mother grabbed my hand again to seize me, but I was desperate to fix the stains.

“Enough!” she shouted, shaking my arm slightly. “We expect better behavior from you, Y/N. This is absolutely embarrassing,” she said.

I glanced up at her with fresh tears welling in my eyes and shook my head. “Mommy,” I whined, one of the only times I’d called her that.

She simply sighed. “You’re wearing that dress all day today whether it’s dirty or not. I’m not buying you something else to wear.”

It wasn’t about that. I slipped my hand free and rushed to the bathroom, standing on my tiptoes to see the damage I’d caused to the dress. I sighed and wiped my eyes. It wasn’t something that would come out that easily.

“And if you think we’re taking photos of you in that you’re wrong,” called my mother through the door.

She had so much to say after the event, but now all she could do was stare at her magazine, flipping page after glossy page with only the delicate tips of her painted fingers. She could barely look at me. My father too. After yelling so much, it seemed they had nothing more to say. Now, I was met with only silence for punishment.

That night after a quiet day walking around the city and eating nice food, I resolved to pack my things and go. I couldn’t remember a time in my life prior to that day when I’d wanted to run away, and that age marked a significant change in the way my parents treated me. And the way I treated them…

I dragged my small suitcase out the door into the lobby as my parents stood watching and shaking their heads. I’d expected them to perhaps stop me when I’d announced that evening after washing up that I planned to run away. Instead they simply shrugged and turned their attention elsewhere, saying that of course I should give it a go. See how much they did for me and return a more grateful, thoughtful daughter.

I walked into the lobby and past the front desk. The employee gave me a funny look that at that age I interpreted to mean respect. I may have been a ten-year-old in monkey pajamas dragging a suitcase that was busting at the seams and wearing sandals that slipped off my feet, but I was going somewhere. She let me go too.

Slowly I walked out into the sunset air. I looped around the back of the hotel until the beach lay splayed out before me and I felt like I could breathe. I rested my suitcase on its side and sat atop it, kicking off my sandals and digging my toes into the warm sand. I smiled as I saw them wiggling. They looked like little dancing crabs. Across the beach from me I saw two kids playing by the water, chasing the waves as they receded and being chased by those same waves as they advanced. I saw their parents sitting watchfully behind them and felt a pang of lonesomeness. Running away felt like a good decision as I sat there, but I remembered suddenly that I had nowhere to go.

What could a ten-year-old do alone in San Francisco?

I shook my head and worked my hands under the sand too, letting the warm grains settle against my cool skin. I shut my eyes and listened to the ocean for a while, the waves lapping against the shore. I felt the sunlight on my cheek as it began to descend in the sky somewhere. Being alone wasn’t so bad. Being lonesome wasn’t so bad.

A sense of peace washed over me with the sound of the waves and I wondered if running away always felt like this. Calm. Like the problems that haunted me moments before were too fleeting to think about anymore. Like the sadness was gone for a moment. I wanted to live like that forever: clear head, clear heart. I opened my eyes and the family was gone, probably back to wherever they’d come from.

Where could I go back to? Where did I want to go back to?

I wanted to tell my parents why I fought that boy.

No.

I wanted them to ask.

I knew my parents expected me to come back eventually. They knew I didn’t have the fortitude, especially at my age, to spend a night out alone. They knew I would come back to the hotel, tail between my legs, and silently unpack my clothes again, organize them neatly again, climb into bed and wordlessly fall asleep. Deep down, I knew it too. And when I did it, somehow it felt like I’d betrayed that girl who’d sat steadfastly atop her luggage in the middle of the beach alone, eyes shut, heart content. I felt like she only existed if I ran to her, ran away from me.

The boy had said my dress looked cheap and ugly.

I’d told him my mom picked it out especially for me and he’d laughed, saying she must hate me.

Perhaps that was the day I learned that running away was also running forward towards something. Perhaps that was the day I learned the profound peace of leaving my pain behind and starting new somewhere else, as someone else. On that beach, I wasn’t the girl in the lilac dress who tackled a boy for being cruel. I also wasn’t the girl who was scolded for an hour and then ignored for eight. I was just a girl, sitting on her suitcase in monkey pajamas. I was someone new.

But I came back, like my parents knew I would.

Perhaps that was why, when I left for America and resolved to never return to them, they didn’t run after me. And perhaps they realized that this time was vastly, infinitely, irrevocably different.

Perhaps that was why they finally came out and found me.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked, my voice rattling as I shook my head and jogged towards them.

My mother was dressed in a thick knit sweater, and her familiar eyes looked tired. She looked at me like the chill from outside was biting her skin, like it pained her a little to see me. My father stood at her side, brows knit as his gaze fell from my face and scanned the whole of me. Had I lost weight? Was I wearing something funny? I felt insecure under his scrutinizing eyes, as if I’d done something wrong.

I supposed I had.

“You weren’t returning our texts,” said my mother with a long exhale. I could see the exhaustion in her posture.

I shook my head. “I…I was going to. This weekend actually. I was gonna call you and-,”

“And what?” asked my father, his voice soft and weak like he didn’t have the strength to raise it. Had I made my parents become this way?

“And…,” I began, then glanced over my shoulder at the rest of the group who all stared at the scene between my family with similarly wide eyes. I locked gazes with Hyerim who offered a small, almost pitying smile. “I wanted to talk things out properly,” I said, finding my strength.

My father nodded slowly. “And now? Can we…can we talk now?” he asked.

I flushed and stared between him and my mother. Something guttural, primal, inside of me lurched forward with words of rejection. I wanted to tell them no. But seeing them before me, messier than they’d ever been, out in a strange concert venue in the middle of the night…

It was like they’d crossed the tightrope to find me on the other side. And I didn’t need to take a single step in return. All I had to do was not run further backwards. Run to a place where they couldn’t reach me.

I swallowed the nerves that rose in my throat and glanced back at my friends, a mixed-up, banged-up, ragtag assortment of people who under normal circumstances would never have come together. And yet, here we were. All the parallel lines that we traversed had intersected, right here.

“Guys?” I said to the team as they continued to watch with bated breath. “I’m gonna go…deal with some stuff. Go on and grab food without me.”

Taehyung gave me a soft smile and nodded. “Take your time,” he said.

I returned it. “Okay.”

“Want us to save you something? I know you like the lettuce at that barbecue place,” said Jimin, pouting a little as his eyes flitted between me and my parents.

I chuckled. “No. That’s okay. Just…go have fun. I’ll call you guys later.”

I walked back towards the group and grabbed my backpack, slinging it over my right shoulder. As I stood upright once more, Hyerim placed a hand on my back and met my eyes. She seemed to be reading me for a moment. I simply smiled and removed her hand from my body, giving it a squeeze before turning on my heel to meet my parents.

“Not a lot of places are open right now,” I said, staring at the concrete floor. “But I know a twenty-four hour convenience store. We can eat some ramen.”

Thirty minutes later the three of us sat at a booth outside, bundled up in our jackets and waiting for our cups of ramen to finish cooking. My parents weren’t familiar with how to properly cook it, so I helped them wordlessly. I waited one minute more before grabbing mine and removing the chopsticks from the rounded edge of the cup, letting the lid flip open. I watched the steam escape into the night air and waited for my parents to follow suit.

Cautiously, they each did. I took a large bite and slid it between my teeth, letting the hot noodles sooth my bundled nerves. “Y/N-,” began my father.

“Hold on,” I said, still slurping noodles. I pulled my legs up to my chest to conserve my body heat as I began to chew. “I wanna talk on my terms.”

My father was quiet, nodding as he took a bite too. My mother joined, but all the while her eyes were trained on me. “This is good,” she commented.

I nodded. “I used to eat this freshman year whenever I had finals,” I said, then laughed. “I stopped in America because their convenience stores don’t work the same.”

“That’s right,” said my father with a chuckle. “We wanted to use some hot water in San Francisco but they didn’t have any.”

“Ah,” my mother said, her tone reminiscent. “I had to drink my tea cold. It never seeped properly.”

I glanced between them. They conversed in a way that, to an outsider, might appear casual. But I saw something else. They were tense, on edge. They were just waiting for me to give them the okay to speak freely. Part of me was pushing it off as long as I could. That same part of me was terrified of what they’d have to say.

“How did you guys know where to find me?” I asked quietly.

My mother met my eyes with her wide ones and smiled almost bashfully. “Ah, I talked to Mrs. Park after you went to Busan and asked how it went. She mentioned that the boys started this band and we kind of just…hoped,” she said. I felt butterflies fluttering in my stomach from the nerves. I knew I had to face it sometime, and that old urge to brush it away and run returned.

But as the steam from my ramen warmed my cheeks, I finally cleared my throat and nodded. “Let’s talk now,” I said, setting it aside.

“Okay!” said my father, smiling. He seemed so eager.

“I…I’ve been trying…for a while now, I’ve been trying,” I began, chuckling to myself, “to stop hating you.”

I stared at the cool black surface of our outdoor table. “Sweetheart, I need you to know that we’re sorry,” said my mother, reaching for my hand.

I pulled it away and looked at her, brows furrowed. “What are you sorry for specifically?”

She looked at my father with a helpless expression and he nodded, leaning towards me. “All of it,” he said. “From the beginning, Y/N.”

“Specifically…,” I urged, voice low.

“I’m sorry for firing Dongmin,” said my father.

I nodded. “Okay.”

He blinked and set his lips thin. “And I’m sorry about the donation,” he said.

“And?”

“And Kim Taehyung,” said my mother, nodding vigorously. “I’m sorry we asked him to stay away.”

“Alright,” I said, twirling my chopstick around in my ramen. I’d lost my appetite.

“All of it, Y/N,” said my father, eyes misty. “We’re sorry for all of it.”

“Why?” I asked.

His eyes went wide. “Because…doing those things for the reason we did them was wrong,” he said easily.

I hummed and continued swirling my chopstick. “I don’t know if I can accept that.”

My mother shook her head. “Sweetie, we’re being sincere. We know we made mistakes with you.”

“What you’ve apologized are just the result of the one thing I need you to apologize for, Mom,” I said.

She stared at me with wide eyes. “What?”

I sniffled in the cold air. “I don’t need an apology for the shitty things you did,” I said. “I need an apology for the way you see me.”

“The way we…what?” asked my father.

I met his eyes. “You didn’t raise me like a person,” I said. “And that fucked me up.”

He shook his head. “Y/N, please don’t curse,” he said, tone even.

I scoffed. “You’ve lost the right to scold me,” I said. “And if I wanna curse I’m gonna do it.” I felt myself becoming defensive, cold, stubborn. I knew this me was unreasonable. But I was sitting across from my biggest demons, the ones that plagued me the most. “You’re treating the symptoms, not the cause.”

“What do you mean?” asked my mother. “Please, Y/N. We’re trying to understand you.”

I nodded. “I don’t want to spell it out,” I said, sighing. “I want you guys to see how what you did was damaging and apologize for it.”

“Are you upset with the way you were raised?” asked my father. Normally, such a pointed question would have struck me as argumentative and accusatory, but my father only sounded sad. I felt myself cool down a little.

“No,” I said. “I…have you ever thought about how your actions would weigh on my conscience?” I asked, to which the pair stayed silent. “Did you think I would like it if you guys got my best friend kicked out of the school? Did you think I wouldn’t feel guilty for the things you said to Taehyung during his hardest time? And that you did it all for me?”

They were quiet. “I never…,” began my mother, touching her lips.

“I don’t want to carry guilt over something I didn’t do and something I didn’t choose,” I said, then sighed. “I know you two wanted to do these things for me because you thought it was right. Because you thought I would benefit,” I said. “But in doing what you felt was best for me you put the full weight of your choices on my back.”

My father nodded. “I had no idea you felt this way. Your mother and I,” he began, taking my mother’s hand. “We love you. And we want the best things for you.”

“But you never let me decide what that was,” I said.

“We were misguided,” said my mother with a nod, sniffling into her napkin. I didn’t want to make her cry…

My father swallowed. “I think…in trying to get the best, we forgot about what it might be doing to you,” he said, then met my eyes with a quivering lip. “Y/N, did you ever feel burdened by us?”

I stiffened and felt my chest constrict. I would cry soon. “I…”

He nodded. “You don’t need to answer,” he said, then cursed under his breath. “I knew I should have gone easier on you.”

“What?” I asked.

He smiled my way. “You know my father was tough on me. He made me work hard, organized meetings for us about my grades. He expected a lot from me,” he said. “And I…I remember feeling so burdened by him.”

I shook my head. “It’s not…,” I began, but I couldn’t finish. Any rebuke would be a lie.

He chuckled and held my mother’s hand tighter. “I guess when I had a child to raise myself I forgot how horrible that was. I only saw ways to better you, because you had so much potential. I wanted you to do only good things in life, and for you to be…surrounded by only good things.”

“Dad…”

“But I was one of the bad things that surrounded you,” he said, shaking his head. My mother rubbed his back. “I was one of the clouds that hung around you all your life. I…I never wanted to be that kind of person to you.”

“I understand,” I said softly. My parents looked up at me seriously, each of them sporting expressions unguarded by composure. “I…I know you didn’t have bad intentions.”

“But the result is the same,” said my mother, nodding slowly as she stared at her ramen. “We hurt you. Because we wanted so much for you…we forgot about your happiness.”

I sniffled and dabbed away a stray tear as it crested over my lower eyelid. “You thought you were doing the thing that would help me,” I said. “You always did.”

“But we were wrong,” said my father, meeting my eyes. “We were so wrong.”

I nodded. “Really?”

He smiled and again my mother reached for my hand. This time I let her take it. “We realized when you were away…we’d rather have a daughter who does what makes her happy than a daughter who does what makes her unhappy for our sake,” he said. “We’d rather have a daughter who’s in our lives than a daughter who hates us.”

I wiped my eyes again and sniffed, gazing into the steam as it seeped off my noodles. “I understand,” I repeated.

“And we are so sorry,” said my mother, her fingers tight around my hand. “We are so sorry for always choosing for you and for choosing wrong. We’re sorry for being so caught up in our expectations that we couldn’t recognize that you were hurting.”

I flushed and nodded, still minding my tears. “And we’re sorry that we were the cause of that hurt,” said my father delicately.

“I accept your apology,” I said. “And I forgive you.”

My father exhaled loudly and I glanced up to see him slouched over his ramen, a tear falling from his chin into the soup. “Thank God,” he whispered.

“We thought we’d lost you for good this time,” said my mother, her voice cracking.

I nodded. “I thought so too,” I said. “But…for you and for myself, I need to forgive you.”

“And…well, if it’s not too much,” began my father, meeting my eyes with a broken smile. “We’d love to be able to see you more.”

I blinked and stiffened in my seat. “It…it might take some time,” I said. “I need some time before things can be normal.”

“We’re willing to wait,” said my mother, nodding.

I met her eyes and swallowed. “I can’t promise that the old pain won’t come up again.”

“We don’t expect that,” said my father.

I nodded. “I’m…I’m willing to try again,” I said, then chuckled as I stirred my ramen and took another big bite. “Slowly.”

I rolled over in bed on Saturday morning, head foggy from the night out with everyone. I’d had one too many drinks at Jungkook and Hoseok’s demand and my body seemed not to take it very well. Groggily, I stumbled out of bed and with eyes squinted felt my way to the door. My finger slid over the frame of my painting, the only one I had hung up: A Pair of Shoes. I opened one eye and, though it strained against the vibrant morning sun, I saw the outline of the painting perfectly well and a smile spread across my lips slowly. I opened the door and slipped into the living room where Haewon was already lying on her back, limbs splayed out in all directions, on the couch.

She glanced at me and smiled. “She awakens,” she said.

I laughed and nodded, but the motion caused my head to pound and I winced. “She wishes she didn’t.”

Haewon chuckled and pointed vaguely towards the kitchen. “Yuna left for work earlier but she left out a bottle of that nasty herbal stuff you guys like for hangovers. She also made you toast, but it’s cold now.”

I smiled and slid into the kitchen. I grabbed the bottle Yuna had left for me, the ‘nasty herbal stuff’ that actually worked wonders if I hadn’t gone too far, and snapped the top open. I poured it down my throat while plugging my nose, cringing against the bitter taste, before tossing the empty bottle into the trash and popping the piece of toast left on the counter between my teeth.

I walked back out into the living room and smirked at Haewon. “Do I look like those cute anime girls? The ones that run with toast in their mouths?”

She scrunched up her face and rolled her eyes. “Pretty sure no cute anime girl has ever ran with toast while dead hungover.”

I laughed and shrugged, sitting on the ground beside her head. “It’s a fair point.”

She tilted her face towards mine and scanned my eyes, narrowing her own. “You seem giddy. What gives?”

“Nothing!” I exclaimed, then squeezed my eyes shut against the pounding in my head. “Nothing,” I repeated, this time making sure my tone was more measured.

“One of three things happened,” she said, nodding and staring at the ceiling. “Option one: something good with Hyerim.”

I laughed. “Not particularly.”

“Okay. Two: something good with your parents,” she said.

I smiled at my half-eaten toast. “I mean…we finally talked last night so I guess.”

“Option three: something good with Taehyung,” she said.

My body went hot and I cleared my throat, fanning my face with my hand. “No, uh…nothing of the sort,” I said. “It’s kinda hot in here.”

She laughed a little too loudly and clapped my shoulder, sitting upright. “Something did happen! Girl, I knew it,” she said. “Did you two finally,” she said, but stopped to instead wiggle her eyebrows at me.

I gasped. “No!” I shouted. “It’s not that,” I said. “He just kept…I don’t know, calling me his girlfriend and stuff.”

She settled down and groaned. “God, that’s all it takes to make you this happy?”

I shrugged. “I am a simple girl.”

“Well lemme tell you, that boy has been waiting twenty years to do the Devil’s Tango with you. I don’t think he’s as simple as you are,” she said with a laugh.

I glanced at her. The way she smiled at her phone as she scrolled through it made me wonder what she knew. “Suspicious,” I said, angling myself towards her. “You have info.”

She shrugged. “At the right price I do.”

I sighed. “Give me a hint so I know if it’s worth it,” I said.

She winked at me. “Has to do with your man and his…ahem,” she paused to make a show of clearing her throat, “urges.”

“Ew, okay I’m not interested anymore,” I said, laughing and turning back to the TV as it droned on.

She smacked my shoulder. “You should be! It has to do with you anyway.”

Slowly, I returned my gaze to her and cocked a brow. “My interest is once again piqued.”

She smiled wide in the way that made me nervous. “What will you give me?”

“I’ll do your laundry for a week,” I said.

“A month.”

“Two weeks.”

“Make it two and a half and throw in Yoongi’s number and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she said, holding out her hand for me to shake.

I smirked. “Yoongi?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I never noticed him before because I was all caught up in the silver-haired demon, but now that Taehyung is brunette and also dating my best friend, I started to kind of…let my eyes wander, you know?”

I laughed. “Shameless!”

“I prefer terms like go-getter and initiative-haver,” she said, nodding.

“Okay, okay. Deal,” I said, taking her outstretched hand and offering a firm shake. “So what’s this insider information? I’m riveted.”

She laughed and leaned down close to my ear. “He’s not as cool as he pretends to be, okay? So only use this when you really wanna tease him.”

“Why are we doing this?”

“It’s a date.”

“It’s weird.”

“The only reason it’s weird is because you’re being weird,” said Taehyung with a long sigh as he continued to focus on the claw machine in front of him.

I crossed my arms and watched him as he fixated on a particular plush of Gudetama. “These things are made so you fail,” I said, resting a hip against the machine.

He continued to stare into the lighted box, eyes stuck on that plush toy. “I’m gonna get it,” he said.

I nodded. “Fine, fine. Manly man Kim Taehyung has decided on something and he’ll get it through sheer willpower. Against the overwhelming odds. Against the very laws of physics. He will venture to-,”

Before I could finish, his lips were pressed against mine, fingers threaded through my hair for a brief moment before he pulled away and returned his undivided attention to the game. My face felt hot and the cool air did little to soothe it as we stood outside a busy shop, cars whizzing by behind us and people walking by quickly. Some of them paused to watch Taehyung and puzzle over the scene of a grown man bent over the glass front of a claw machine, a beet red girl at his side, burying her nose in her scarf.

“What was that about?” I asked.

He stuck out his tongue as he focused and sent the claw down once more. “To quiet you down,” he said. “I need to focus if I wanna get this thing.”

He’s not as cool as he pretends to be. I scoffed as I remembered the secret Haewon had shared with me. I nodded and allowed him his moment of performance, settling instead for just watching with raised brows as the claw clamped down around Gudetama’s yolk-yellow head. I gasped as the machine drew the toy upward into the sky and carried it through the air, above all the other unlucky plushes, towards the drop box. A little more and it might really make it.

Eagerly, I gave Taehyung’s shoulders a few smacks, then clapped my hands together. “It’s gonna work!” I exclaimed.

He glanced at me out the corner of his eye and winked. “Of course it is,” he said. “I told you I was gonna get it.”

I beamed at the machine and watched with bated breath as the thing hovered in the air. But slowly, the plush began to sag down with the force of gravity, leaning down towards the rest of its brethren and away from the claw which promised it a new home. Before the claw could deliver Taehyung his toy, Gudetama slipped from its grasp and landed in a heap on top of a plush of Moomin and a blank-faced Ryan. I sighed as Gudetama’s expression remained unchanged, still set in a lazy frown.

“When you try your best but you don’t succeed,” I sang quietly.

He turned to me with wide eyes. “Don’t patronize me!”

I laughed and gave his cheek a light pat, taking his hand and wheeling him back around down the street. I laced our fingers as he protested, insisting we return to the claw game to reclaim his toy and his dignity. “I will not let you blow your life’s savings on a five-dollar plush,” I said. “Let’s keep going. Didn’t you say you had something nice planned?”

This seized his attention as he nodded and gripped my hand tighter. “Ah, yes! I have something really cool to show you,” he said.

I smiled up at him. “Can I know what it is or is it a surprise?” I asked.

He smirked and leaned away from me. “It’s a surprise and you won’t seduce me into telling you.”

I gaped. “I wasn’t trying to!”

“Yes you were,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me. “You knew what you were doing when you smiled like that.”

“How did I smile?” I asked through laughter.

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “I dunno,” he said, pouting. “Like you liked me or something.”

I continued laughing for a long moment as we meandered down the street. “Kim Taehyung, why in the world would I not smile at you that way?” I asked. “You’re my boyfriend. Of course I like you.”

He shrugged and swung our hands a little. “You seemed annoyed with me at the claw machine,” he said, voice low, almost cute.

I scoffed. “If you think I’d stop liking you just because you annoy me then why would I have liked you for twenty years?” I asked. “Do you know how much of those twenty years you spent annoying me?”

He gave me a glare before chuckling. “Fine,” he said. “Ah! Over here,” he said, turning a sharp left turn down an alleyway.

I walked by his side, hand-in-hand, as he led the way through the narrow brick alleyway. After a few feet of walking he paused in front of a stairwell and began scaling them up the side of the building. At the first landing, a wooden sign hung swaying in the breeze and he opened the door, letting me inside first.

The first thing I noticed was the scent of old paper. As my eyes adjusted to the low light, I began to see the outlines of massive, tall bookshelves, lining the walls and leading deep into dark corners. In each of the many windows stood potted plants, some of whom had begun to climb up the brick walls. Outside the front windows I caught sight of buses and cars flying by and rainclouds gathering overhead. The gloomy atmosphere, the temperature, the soft music bumping from speakers I couldn’t see: all of it made the place feel…oddly homey.

“Ah! Taehyung,” said the woman behind the counter. She maneuvered around toe side of the register to greet us, the only two people in the whole place.

She pushed her graying hair out of her face and smiled softly. “Hi Jiyeon,” he said as the small woman swept him up in her arms.

I raised my brows and glanced between them. “Oh! This must be Y/N,” she said warmly, reaching out her arms for me.

I blushed and held her close in a hug. “Nice to meet you,” I said, then backed away and turned a puzzled expression on Taehyung. “But…how do you know this place?”

He grinned and crossed his arms. “Once I moved in with Jimin I started working here. That was before Bangtan took off,” he said.

“Oh!” I said, turning to Jiyeon with a grin. “So you’re his former boss!” I smirked and leaned closer to her. “He’s a bad employee, right?”

She giggled and nodded. “On sunny days he would sit in the back by the windows and nap like a cat,” she said.

I gaped. “No!”

“Not just like a cat,” said Taehyung, crouching down beside the register and motioning with his fingers towards something I couldn’t see. A small tabby stretched her legs and wandered towards his outstretched hands and rubbed her small head against his fingers. “But with the cat.”

I laughed and joined him crouching. The tabby took to me quickly, abandoning Taehyung in lieu of rubbing her whole self on my hands. I smiled. “What’s her name?” I asked, glancing at Jiyeon over my shoulder.

She smiled and hummed. “It used to be Whiskers but Taehyung renamed her Venus,” she said, watching the cat snake around my ankles fondly.

“Why Venus?” I asked.

Taehyung chuckled and picked her up, standing with the cat resting against his hip. “See the orange in her fur?” he asked, pointing to a patch of amber.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Like Botticelli,” he said.

“Ah!” I exclaimed with a nod. The russet-haired goddess that was hanging in print in his bedroom. The Birth of Venus by Botticelli. “That’s a good name.”

“I preferred Whiskers,” said Jiyeon with a laugh. “But our Tae is too smart for a name like that.”

I grinned and nodded, petting Venus’ tiny head before turning back to Jiyeon. “But what exactly is this place?” I asked, gazing back into the rows of books, begging to be explored.

She guided me by the shoulder towards the stacks. “It’s a used book store, dear,” she said. “We take old books for free and sell them at half the price of most secondhand stores.”

“Wow,” I said, gaping into the dark aisle, books on either side, nearly touching the high ceiling. “These were all donations? How did you get so many?” I asked.

She grinned and tapped her forehead. “Hard work,” she said. “When you care for a plant, you use the best soil. You buy fertilizer and you weed it nicely. You trim it when the leaves begin to die. You water it nicely. Sometimes you feel discouraged and you wonder if it will ever grow. But in time all of your efforts are reflected in the wonderful results,” she said. “Life is like that.”

I blinked at her before smiling slowly and nodding. “I see.”

“If you give it your all, you can do a whole lot,” she said, sighing as she gazed upon the fruits of her labor.

“Y/N, why don’t we explore a little?” asked Taehyung, leaving Venus behind to groom herself on the counter and resting a hand on my hip.

I smiled. “Sure,” I said, then turned to Jiyeon and met her eyes. “Thank you,” I said.

She nodded. “Make yourselves at home,” she said. “We’ll open in an hour.”

“Huh?” I asked as she turned back to the register and Taehyung ushered me down the aisle. “Wait, it’s not open yet?”

He chuckled and patted my head, guiding me through the labyrinth of bookshelves. “Of course not. Why else would nobody be here?” he asked.

“You asked her to let us in early?” I asked.

He glanced at me, wide-eyed, before shaking his head. “No,” he said. “Every now and then on Saturday mornings I like to come here early and help her move things around. Sometimes he has new books that are too high to shelf. Sometimes the plants need work.”

“But you don’t even work here,” I said, furrowing my brow.

He smiled. “She’s the kind of person you don’t stop seeing just because you don’t have an excuse to see her,” he said. “You felt it too right? Like you just…wanted to be around her?”

I nodded. “I did actually,” I said, smiling as I ran my finger across the spines of the books.

“It’s kind of like…brand loyalty or something. That’s how she’s grown so much. She just…created this community for herself,” he said.

I exhaled slowly. “She reminds me of someone,” I said slowly, carefully. I eyed him, gauging his reaction.

His lips parted in a small smile and he nodded, focused on a book as he pulled it from the shelf and fingered through it. “Me too,” he said. “When I first started working here…I really felt like I was with her again.” He glanced up at me and nodded. “My grandma.”

I smiled. “They’re both wonderful.”

“Maybe someday, when you’re a big journalist or screenwriter or something, you can do a talk here,” he said, chuckling.

I nodded. “I’d like that,” I said. “And when you become a famous lyricist you can come with me.”

He laughed. “I’d like that.”

Unconsciously, we’d moved slightly closer to one another. In his hand, the book lay open, face-up. But slowly, his other hand drifted to the small of my back and settled there. I furrowed my brow at him as he leaned down closer and met my eyes. A playful smile was resting beautifully on his lips as he tilted his head to the side.

“Are you trying to seduce me now?” I asked, laughing as my hands lifted to touch his chest.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could Jiyeon called from the front of the store, “Oh no! Taehyung, can you help me unload this box please?”

Taehyung chuckled and shut the book, placing it back on the shelf and turning on his heel. “I’ll be back as soon as I’m done,” he said, waving over his shoulder before jogging out of the dim aisle.

I smiled and glanced around at the titles of the books in front of me. I hadn’t noticed it before, but we’d wandered into the arts section. I smiled at the books as they stood before me: books on Michelangelo, Georgia O’Keeffe, Vermeer, Munch, even some newer books on Frida Kahlo. But one struck me and caught my eye, as it was still slightly crooked after Taehyung had replaced it. A complete collection of the paintings at the Louvre. My heart raced. I grabbed for it and flipped it onto its front, glancing at the price tag. For something with over 3,000 paintings in it, the massive thing was shockingly cheap. I cleared my throat and wandered carefully out of the bookshelves and towards the front where Jiyeon stood behind the register, petting Venus’ head.

I looked around, careful to mind any noises that might be Taehyung and quickly approached, sliding the book across the desk towards her. “May I buy this?” I asked.

She glanced down at it and smiled. “Ah,” she said. “I’m glad you came by this morning. That book only came in yesterday and as soon as I shelved it I had a couple try to haggle with me for the price.”

I gaped. “It’s already so cheap,” I commented.

She nodded. “Nonetheless, if they came back today they would have worn me down,” she said. “I’ll give you a discount though. Family and friends,” she said with a laugh.

I joined her and nodded. “Oh, and could you maybe…um, put it in a brown bag or something? So Tae won’t see?”

She grinned. “I’ll do you one better,” she said, pulling out a roll of hunter green wrapping paper.

Swiftly, she wrapped the thing and taped the sides, sliding it into a large paper bag and handing it back to me. In exchange, I passed her my debit card and waited with bated breath for her to finish the transaction. She handed it back and, without a second to spare, Taehyung returned, slightly breathless from working, and smiled at me.

“Found something already?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yep!” I said, just a little too quickly.

Taehyung and I parted ways at noon so I could dedicate the day to revising my essay. I’d half-figured I would simply begin the work on it today and give finishing it a go tomorrow, but as I sat down to write I couldn’t really stop the steamrolling flow of words that fled my fingertips. Before I knew it, hours had passed and the essay was nearly completely finished save for touchups and minor edits. I stared down at it as my computer’s glow cast an eerie shadow all around my dark room. There it was.

“Don’t we need to go soon?” asked Yuna from outside my door, giving it a few knocks.

I startled to my feet and cursed under my breath. “Shit, yeah! Thanks for reminding me!” I said, shoving my laptop into a satchel along with Tae’s book and a few concert essentials.

Quickly, I turned on a light and applied my makeup messily. I looked a bit frazzled, but as I dressed and took a quick glance at my vanity mirror I could see a bit of confidence that wasn’t there before. I couldn't ponder it long, because I was out the door and rushing with Haewon and Yuna out into the hallway and towards the elevator.

We arrived at the venue a few minutes past eight: forty minutes past when I promised I’d be there to finish setup. I yanked open the heavy door and smiled at the familiar scene before me. This was the very same Hongdae venue where everything had started after all. It looked the same, but somehow felt vastly different. The boys stood on stage, adjusting their instruments. They were mostly ready and it seemed, for once, I was the unprepared, late one.

I rushed in with the girls in tow and approached Sunny with chagrin. “I’m sorry I’m late,” I said quietly into her ear.

Without a word, she simply gestured to the seats beside hers and I took one graciously. The girls sat beside me and we all watched in relative silence as the boys ran through a few songs.

After a few songs, Sunny leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Not having you here reminded me of what it was like before you came,” she began, then met my eyes severely. “Don’t make me remember that again.”

I laughed. “What?”

She raised her brows. “Don’t you know? Ah, you should talk to Joon. He’ll explain it better.”

Puzzled, I stared at her for a long moment before the boys finished and abandoned their instruments onstage, hopping down to join us. I caught a glimmer of a smile from Yoongi as he approached and followed his gaze straight to Haewon. I stifled a laugh and turned to the rest of the boys.

“Joon, weren’t you supposed to tell her?” asked Sunny, standing and causing me to follow suit.

Namjoon glanced at me and smiled, rubbing his neck. “Ah, yeah. That’s right,” he said.

I smiled. “Go ahead.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before meeting my eyes again. “Well, uh…the thing is…,” he said, then slumped his shoulders. “You’ve paid off your debt. You don’t have to work for us anymore.”

“I’ve…really?” I asked.

He nodded. “And we all talked about it and, collectively, we understand if you don’t wanna do it anymore,” he said.

“But!” called Jimin, raising a finger and shutting his eyes with a smile. “If you do still want to work with us, we can pay you.”

“What?” I asked.

He nodded. “Handsomely,” he said.

“Not as handsome as me,” said Jin with a smile, to which Yoongi simply gave him a sharp smack in the gut.

I rolled my eyes and refocused my attention on Jimin. “We’d want you around more though,” said Hoseok, smiling.

I returned it. “Why?”

“Well,” said Sunny, turning towards me with a grin. “We would want you to be the full-time concert manager so I can work on getting their name out there and making connections in the music scene.”

I raised my brows. “Excuse me?”

“I can’t really do both,” she said, laughing. “Not enough time in the day.”

I blinked at my hands and thought a long moment. Hyerim approached from backstage followed by Mijin, both of whom stared at me with a mixture of concern and expectation in their eyes. Of course, I was tempted to stay. But with work at the cafe and school, I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it all. And besides, I didn’t want to be a manager forever. I wanted to-

“Write with me,” said Taehyung.

I flushed and turned to him with wide eyes. “E…excuse me?” I asked.

He nodded. “Write lyrics for Bangtan with me.”

My lips parted in a gape as the offer sat stagnant in the air. I blinked, unable to process what he’d said. Of course, I’d toyed with the idea of songwriting. But I wasn’t sure I had what it took. “I…I don’t know.”

“Think about it,” said Namjoon with a smile. “You don’t have to answer right away.”

I nodded. “I will,” I said, but truthfully I’d already been thinking about it hard enough to work up a headache.

The concert went by smoothly, and no malfunctions occurred, leaving Sunny and me a moment to breathe a sigh of relief. As I watched the boys performing their hearts out, a part of me felt oddly guilty. Here they were, performing at the same mid-sized venue they had been in the beginning. They weren’t growing as rapidly as they could be. And what was holding them back was…well, me.

Taehyung wrapped an arm around my shoulders once the venue had cleared out and gave me a smile. “Wanna come back to the dorm with me?” he asked.

I raised my brows. “Oh, yeah,” I said, tightening my satchel over my shoulder.

“Are you still worrying about the offer?” he asked, meeting my eyes as the others began talking boisterously.

I chewed on my lip and nodded. “A little bit.”

He took my hand in his and smiled. “Don’t,” he said. “You’ll make the right choice for you.”

I sighed and nodded. “I hope so,” I said.

We walked with laced fingers back to the group as they discussed where to eat late dinner. “You guys down for lamb skewers?” asked Jungkook with a grin.

I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose. “After my monster hangover this morning, I think I’ll pass,” I said.

“Besides,” said Taehyung with a smirk. “We have a date.”

“Oh God!” exclaimed Jungkook, pointing at us. “You guys? In the dorm? Alone?” he said, gagging.

Hoseok rolled his eyes and clamped a hand over Jungkook’s lips. “Go have fun,” he said, meeting my eyes with a smile. A real one.

I smiled in return and nodded. “See you guys later,” I said, waving over my shoulder as everyone continued their talks of food.

I sat on Taehyung’s bed as he read over my essay at his desk, brows set low as his eyes scanned the screen. I watched him anxiously, eager to know what his thoughts were. It had become something entirely different from what it was in the beginning. Perhaps that was the point, really.

He shut the laptop and stared ahead, blinking. “Well?” I asked.

He turned to me and, slowly, a wide, proud smile spread across his face. He shook his head and scoffed. “You really did this today?” he asked.

I nodded. “I mean, I’ve been working on the revision for about a week, but in terms of the bulk of it-,”

“Jesus, Y/N,” he said, laughing. “If your professor doesn’t like this he’s a madman.”

“It’s not about him liking it,” I said with a chuckle. I remembered his sage words from before. “It’s about making something I can be proud of.”

He smiled. “And? What’s the verdict?”

“I’m proud,” I said.

He clapped his hands together. “That’s my girl,” he said.

I laughed, rolling my eyes as I reached for my heavy satchel. I pulled the book from inside and turned to him. He eyed me carefully as I stood to my feet. “I have something for you,” I said.

He laughed. “Wait, I have something for you,” he said, rushing to his closet and throwing it open. He pulled out a bag and held it in front of him. “On three we switch, okay?” he asked.

I grinned and nodded. “Deal. Ready?” I began.

“One,” he said.

“Two,” I responded.

“Three!” we called at once, handing each other the gifts.

Immediately, I tore into mine and pulled from the depths of the tissue paper something soft and plush. With a gasp, I yanked the thing out the rest of the way and saw Gudetama’s blank face staring at me. With wide eyes, I smoothed my hands over the toy and smiled at Taehyung who by then was already looking at me with a grin.

“Tae!” I shouted, smacking him with the toy. “You went back?”

He nodded and scratched his arm. “I know you like Gudetama,” he said.

I laughed. “You’re crazy.”

“You’re crazier!” he defended, waving the book around. “I can’t believe you got me this. I wasn’t gonna buy it since it was kind of pricey.”

I gaped. “Pricey? Do you know how much that retails for?” I asked.

“No?” he asked.

I pouted and crossed my arms. “Probably a lot.”

He laughed and approached. “Anyway,” he said, “thank you.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and smiled down at me.

I returned his smile and placed the plush on his bed. “Thank you too.”

He inhaled sharply and pulled me closer by the hips. I felt his chest rise and fall against mine. “You know your essay is amazing, right?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Come on.”

He rested his head on my shoulder, letting his lips touch the skin of my neck and sending shivers up and down my spine. “It is. And if you can write essays like that…what’s stopping you from trying lyrics?”

I flushed and held him tighter. “I don’t know.”

“You’ve got enough trauma to be a good songwriter,” he joked. “That’s why I make good lyrics.”

I laughed. “A tortured artist?” I asked.

He smiled against my skin and I felt hot. “Hm,” he hummed. “I think you’d be great.”

“I think you’re great,” I said. ��I never properly thanked you for the song.”

He chuckled and pulled away, meeting my eyes. “Why would you thank me for writing a song about your worst day?” he asked.

I smiled. “Because…you made it something beautiful,” I said. “You took pain and made…art.”

He grinned and swayed us back and forth. “You think?”

“Mhm,” I said. “To be able to face your hurt…face my hurt, and give it meaning like that,” I started, then shook my head. “It’s amazing.”

“If you think that, why don’t you give it a try?” he asked.

I stared up at him and saw nothing but sincerity in his eyes. “I mean…,” I trailed off.

“You believe in me,” he said. “And I believe in you. I believe you can do this.”

I pursed my lips. “But the cafe-,”

“Quit,” he said.

I stared at him wide-eyed. “What?”

He smiled. “You don’t like it anyway,” he said. “Spend time doing the things you love.”

“And I love being a manager?” I asked. “And a…a songwriter?”

He laughed. “I think you do.”

I thought about it for a long moment before sighing and resting my forehead against his chest. “You guys would pay me right?”

He laughed and it vibrated against my forehead. He shook my shoulders a little. “Of course, you lunatic! Unpaid labor is against the law.”

“Haven’t I been doing that this whole time?” I asked, puzzled as I pulled away.

He set his lips thin before clearing his throat. “Anyway,” he said, leaning down so our eyes were level. I saw so many warm memories in the dark brown of his eyes. “Is that a yes?”

I held in a laugh and nodded once. “Yes.”

He smiled and, without warning, pressed his lips against mine. The kiss began chaste, really just a peck. But I moved my hands to his hair, raking my fingers through the soft locks, and as I did a low groan escaped him that made my stomach flip. Before I realized what I was doing, I was backing up against the bed, shoving Gudetama onto the floor. Taehyung hovered above me and began leaving a trail of kisses down my neck, lingering on my collarbone and shoulders. I gasped as his teeth nipped my skin and he only gave me a laugh. Slowly, I edged my fingers towards the hem of his shirt and, without a second’s pause, he pulled the thing over his head and tossed it to the side. I blushed as I stared at him and met his smoldering eyes.

He kissed me once more, this time more passionately, but as he broke away I began to laugh. A memory surfaced that I couldn’t shove down and as he continued kissing my jaw, I became a mess of giggles.

He pulled back and glared at me. “What’s funny?” he asked.

I laughed and shook my head. “Nothing,” I said with a nod. “Just…Haewon told me something really funny today.”

He returned to kissing any skin he could find, but I was already too far gone. I continued to laugh like a madman as his lips found every sweet spot on my neck. “Wanna know what she said?” I asked.

“Not really right now,” he said.

I sputtered a laugh and shook my head. “No, I really think right now is the best time.”

He sighed and continued kissing me. “It’s not normal to make conversation while you’re making out with your boyfriend,” he mumbled. “But go on.”

I smirked. “She told me about the time you hooked up.”

“Ugh,” he said, pausing to break away and stare down at me. “Why would you bring that up now?”

I laughed as I stared at him. God, did he look cool. “She said you moaned someone’s name.”

His eyes went wide. “I…”

“She told me it was not her’s,” I said.

He shook his head. “Listen-,”

“She told me,” I said, placing a hand on his neck and pulling him down to look at him closely, “it was my name.”

He groaned and fell on top of me, throwing his limbs out on either side. “God!” he exclaimed.

I laughed, shaking both of us with the force of it, and patted his bare back. “Don’t worry. I think it’s adorable.”

“I can’t believe she told you,” he said with a sigh.

I nodded, shutting my eyes to hold back the tears my laughter had produced. “Mhm.”

“Are you still laughing?”

I shook my head. “Of course not. What kind of person do you think I am to keep poking fun at you like this?” I asked, but my voice broke.

He sat upright and met my eyes sharply. I could see a playful edge to his gaze that I wanted more of. “You’re teasing me.”

I shook my head and bit down on my bottom lip, suppressing the laughter with all my might. “Nope.”

He smirked and narrowed his eyes. “Yes you are.”

“No!” I said, but the moment I opened my mouth too wide, laughter came bubbling forth like a waterfall and I couldn’t stop the hysterics.

He kissed me hard enough to make my head spin and as he pulled away, I was left still smiling. “I’m gonna get you back,” he said.

I laughed and pressed a kiss to his lips before pulling back down. “Try me.”

An Essay on Change

Change. What a jarring word, and an even more jarring concept. What does it mean to change anyway? As a transitive verb, Merriam-Webster defines change as ‘to make radically different.’ My whole life, I always liked the idea of becoming different. Perhaps if I was different, my life might become different too. The second definition this dictionary offers is ‘to replace with another.’ I only realized after leaving and coming back that what I loved, what I valued about change was its power to replace something with another. Replace pain with joy. Replace hardship with fun. What I wanted was not to become different, but to be replaced by someone better. I wanted to abandon all the things that defined me as I was and become something new.

With this mindset, I left for America. I figured, if nothing else, I may return a new person. A better person. I thought, after seeing so much and experiencing so much, I might gain some distance from the haunts of my past: the people who’d slighted me and whom I had slighted, the hurt I’d felt and the ways I’d hurt others, the plague of arrogance and the illness of insecurity. I thought that perhaps by reinventing what it meant to be me, I could look at myself and feel okay.

But that didn’t happen.

And I struggled to understand why. All my life, running from my parents, running from my friends, running from myself: it yielded a sense of peace. Anonymity and steadiness. In my day-to-day life I felt much like a shabby wooden lifeboat struggling not to capsize on choppy, stormy water. And from the beginning, paddling hard with all my might made those choppy waters feel calmer somehow. Like perhaps I could outrun the storm. Perhaps I was faster.

America was beautiful. I saw the Golden Gate Bridge, something I hadn’t seen since I was a child and the memory of which was always accompanied by a painful slew of childhood memories that made it difficult to look at it right away. I sat on the beach in the middle of October and didn’t feel cold. I joined a Beyonce Fan Club and learned that, of course, she is and forever will be Queen Bey. I went to New York during the wintertime and cried on a bench in Central Park. I traveled north and saw the very first Starbucks. Disappointingly, the drinks were just the same as they were anywhere else. I even saw a bald eagle.

Why then, after all of this, did I still feel so empty?

My lifeboat had holes in it. It always had. And while paddling fast made the boat sail over the choppy waves, I was still taking on water at an alarming rate. It was filling up, seeping through those holes into the boat, rotting the wood away and creating new holes. Those holes…I figured by ignoring them I might convince myself they weren’t there. Was I denying a crisis or was I simply scared of admitting it at all?

This essay isn’t about my trip to America. It isn’t about Starbucks or the Met Museum or that bald eagle up north. It is about change. And when I came home, I thought I’d finally done it. I’d finally glimpsed into the eternal heart of me and wrenched it out. I’d finally replaced it with something wiser, something stronger. But my tiny lifeboat was swaying once again on water too wicked to weather with so many holes. The waves were writhing, coiling around the sides of my boat and beckoning me into them. It took me a long time to realize what I had to do to survive.

For a long time, I thought that I could outrun the storm. I realized along the way that I can’t. That’s life isn’t it? There will always be a storm. Just when one ends, another crests over the horizon, ready to flip you over. And while it might be easier to simply paddle as hard as you can in the hopes of finding safety somewhere, perhaps an island where you can find a new boat, but the faster you paddle, the faster you take on water. Your boat becomes flooded and you drown.

I was drowning when I left for America. I was gasping for air and my boat was sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I left my unresolved traumas at home and thought that I’d change if I could only shake them off for good. But running from them only makes them bigger. When I came home I learned that. And when I came home, I learned that despite my sincerest efforts, I hadn’t changed at all from the person I’d been before. I was still bitter, naive, heartbroken, and insecure. I was still me.

That’s when I realized that change doesn’t have to mean replacement. It can mean to make yourself different, to make yourself better. It can mean acknowledging that even though your boat has holes, you can still fix it. You don’t need to throw it away and find a new boat. It can mean looking into the ugliness in yourself and knowing that everyone carries ugliness too. Even someone who seems like the brightest star in the sky. Even someone who smiles everyday. Even someone who has given you love all their life. We are all flawed. Human nature makes it that way. And it is in facing these flaws, facing these traumas, facing these holes in your lifeboat, that you can truly begin to change for the better.

I began to patch the holes when I came home. Instead of wasting my energy trying to outrun the storm, I learned to instead try to prepare for it. I rebuilt my lifeboat, made it better. But at the end of the day, it is still the same lifeboat. It is still me. I couldn’t replace it after all. Now I can look at my lifeboat and I can see the patches I’ve created. I can see the gathering storm clouds and face them with a smile. Because it is me. It is me, only stronger.

I didn’t change in America. I pretended I did by acting like I wasn’t hurt anymore, but all I learned was how to put on a more convincing mask. I was still the same, broken lifeboat I’d been when I left. It was only when I returned to the beginning, when I stopped sprinting as fast as I could, that I could finally make myself radically different. I became strong when I faced the things that left me with holes.

I could only change when I stood still and fixed myself.

I could only change when I learned how to come back.

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts au #btsrockband!au #taehyung fanfic #bts v #bts taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts reader insert

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