#and now there’s an insurmountable gap between us

[assiraphales]

the moment you realize the good times are behind you is so so bone deep painful. not all the good times (there will be more) — but a specific flavor. a friend you said you’d always love, and you always will, but now from a distance. a place you thought you’d have forever is now someone else’s. they’ve been over for a while but you just noticed. you could try to recreate them but it feels like a disservice to the original “good times”. a hollow, not quite right, attempt. and now they’re just memories out of arms reach

[geodethecrow]

mimba . . .

i don't mimber how to play . . .

[madaqueue]

PUSH AND PULL

something silent and intangible ties you to sukuna, and has for as long as you've known each other. but you can't help but wonder what would happen if you pull on that little red string of fate, bringing him closer than just friends.

pairing: ryomen sukuna x f!reader

themes/content: modern non-curse au, best friends to ???. suggestive/smut. language, pet names (pretty, baby, sweetheart), he calls you a slut but like as a joke, alcohol consumption, semi-public. 18+, MDNI (wc: 2.6k)

It was always just you and Sukuna, for as long as you could remember. Even as kids, the two of you found your home in the corner of the playground after he pushed someone off a swing you wanted to use; in highschool, you etched your names into the desks during some mundane class, landing both of you in detention. He wove his way into your life, and you into his, mending the frayed threads left behind by scissors and rough hands.

So of course neither of you ever dated - you didn’t need anybody else. Nobody would put up with (nor could handle) him and his moods. And you, well, nobody would dare get near you so long as you had him around.

To his credit, it took very little to scare any potential suitors off, oftentimes nothing more than a glare or a firm hand on their shoulder. And he seemed to understand that no one would ever quite compare to you, everyone else too boring, too bland, too pathetic to deserve his attention.

And so, you played along, this little game of pushing and testing and teasing and almost almost almost.

Yet, there was always something in the way, some invisible force keeping you from ever bridging the gap. “Just friends,” you both called it, a name for the insurmountable chasm between you. It was silent, unspoken, but always felt, a magnetic pull that kept you close but never allowed you to touch.

Tonight in particular, at this shitty house party of a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend, that pull feels almost tangible, lingering in the hazy air.

Music blares, flashing LEDs illuminating the thin layer of sweat covering both of your bodies. Every thump of the bass electrifies the air, your heartbeat vibrating in tune. Tattooed hands hold your hips firmly against his body, your ass pressed to his pelvis.

You love this song. He loves you loving it.

That smug grin plays across his face, shadows cast by the flickering party lights above making it appear far more sinister to someone who doesn’t know Sukuna. But to you, he’s perfectly content.

When the chorus hits, you bend at the waist, dropping forward and grinding against him. Always such a fucking tease, he thinks as a quiet laugh escapes his lips. His fingertips tighten their hold but he shows no other sign of his sinful desires (he was proud of his restraint, even after all these years).

Bending your knees, the pathetically thin material of your dress rides up just enough that a prouder man would feel obligated to look away. Sukuna, of course, just chuckles as you look over your shoulder.

“You look like a slut.” Bright white teeth shine through his grin.

“At least I can dance,” you retort, hips circling against the front of his jeans. “You look stiffer than a dead guy’s dick.”

Throwing his head back, a laugh overtakes him, seemingly louder than the shitty pop song playing through the speakers. Pink hair catches under the red lights, absolutely electrifying. “Jesus, I forgot how filthy that fuckin’ mouth of yours can get.”

Fully turning around, you press your chest against his, your dress doing little to hide the way your nipples harden at the mild friction. The now-empty cup in your hand dangles at your side as you stand on your toes, lips brushing against his ear. “I’m gonna go get another drink to wash out this ‘filthy fuckin’ mouth,’” you shout over the music.

Instead of verbally responding, Sukuna steps back, slapping your ass as you make your way to the kitchen.

You know, of course, that he wouldn’t let anyone else talk to him the way you do, and you, of course, wouldn’t dare let anyone touch you the way he does (and he sure as hell wouldn’t let anyone else do it, either).

The kitchen is brighter than the surrounding chaos, your eyes blurry as they adjust. Finding your way to the stash of bottles, you pour yourself some combination of juice and liquor. The fake marble of the table is cold against your skin as you hop onto it, crossing your legs as the liquid hits your lips.

It’s certainly palatable, you shrug.

You bask in the muted silence for a moment before it’s broken by Sukuna’s loud footsteps marching towards you.

He always commanded attention so effortlessly, eyes turning to follow his path. At first you thought it was the visible tattoos lining his skin and notably unnatural hair, but over time you grew to wonder if there was something more innate, something living within his soul that evoked the unyielding focus from those around him.

Ruby eyes lock on yours (surely an effect of the colored LEDs still flashing nearby) as he glides in front of you. Your legs part, dangling over the edge of the countertop as he slots himself between them, arms encircling you.

Placing his palms onto the table behind your waist, the scent of whatever expensive cologne he probably stole this week hangs on his clothes as he leans closer.

“Thought I finally got rid of you when you didn’t come back.” His voice is gravelly, lips pulled into a leering smile.

“Maybe I just finally got sick of dancing with someone who only wants to paw at me,” you chuckle sarcastically. Lifting the cup to your mouth, you take another swig. “And you’re awfully close for someone who smells like shitty beer and sweat.”

“Oh really?”

Before you can respond, his lips are trailing up your neck, his nose pushing your hair to the side as he nuzzles into your skin.

His breath is hot, tickling your earlobe as he lowly whispers, “Well you smell lovely.”

On instinct your legs try to close around him, a desperate attempt to quell the ache growing between them. You hate his stupid fucking voice, his annoying flirting, how he always goes just a little too far pushing your buttons.

But he’s your friend.

(And that’s all you’ll ever be to him, too).

All you can do is chug your drink, hoping the alcohol dampens the racing pulse of your heart.

“Thanks, I actually pay for my perfume, unlike you, you fucking delinquent,” you manage to spit out.

Finally he pulls back, eyes locked on you. There’s an intensity behind them you can’t quite name, but one you’ve grown familiar with.

He’s playing with you.

A low hum vibrates from his throat in response, his gaze traveling down to your lips. “What’re you drinking?”

He changes the subject, as he always does when things threaten to get too serious, too real. Always running away, afraid to face the ever-insistent voice inside him that evokes a pause the moment before he hurls himself over the edge into desire.

You smirk. “Why don’t you try it?”

Bringing the cup to his face, it rests on his lower lip as you tilt it upwards, the saccharine liquid pouring down his throat. His eyes never leave yours as he swallows. A small trail dribbles down his chin while you place the empty plastic cup onto the counter beside you.

“Messy boy,” you coo, tone as falsely sweet as the drink lingering on his lips.

Grabbing his face, you pull him towards you, close enough you can make out the faint freckles decorating his cheeks. You collect the sugary liquor on your tongue as it travels along his skin, slightly rough from his freshly-shaved stubble. When you reach the corner of his mouth, you place a teasing peck before releasing your grasp.

“Someone should really teach you some manners, ‘Kuna.” And that devilish smile spreads across your face.

You see, you can play with him, too.

He stifles the giddy laugh building in his chest as he fixes his gaze back on you. “And someone should teach you how to make a drink, that shit was nasty.”

“You entitled brat,” you snap back, pushing him away with a hand against his chest. “I make excellent drinks, otherwise why else would you end up drunk on my couch every weekend, hm?”

“Maybe I just like the couch’s company,” he grins, dimples poking through the darkened lines spanning his face.

You’re both just staring at each other, waiting for something to happen, for someone to make a move. The air is electric, buzzing with that imperceptible desire.

Fuck it.

Just as you move to lean into him, a noise cuts through the static.

“Sukuna!” someone calls from the depths of the party.

His head whips around before shooting you an almost apologetic glance. “Guess someone else requires my attention.”

“Wouldn’t wanna keep them waiting for everyone’s favorite asshole,” you mock. With a mirrored smack of his ass, you send him away into the chaos surrounding you.

In his absence, your head swirls, overwhelmed with the alcohol and the lights and the sudden heat in your core.

Just friends.

You’re just friends.

Taking in a steadying breath, your hands shake as you pour another drink.

But at what point does it stop being a game? When do you decide to stop playing?

With a sigh you knock it back in one gulp before wandering between the bodies crowding the space.

The rest of the party is all skin and noise. It’s fluid and blurry and utterly debaucherous, the way you throw your arms around your friends, the way your body moves with each increasingly loud and repetitive song.

By the time the next few hours have passed, your feet start to ache as you make your way from the swath of strangers crowding the makeshift DJ booth at the front of the house.

Stumbling towards the back, a familiar voice calls your name.

“Where ya goin’, pretty?”

Sukuna is sprawled across one of the stained couches lining the walls, an unfamiliar girl hanging on his side. Her hands rest across his chest as her eyes cover you disapprovingly, nails digging into his shirt when you refuse to give her an ounce of attention.

“Lookin’ for somewhere to sit down,” you sigh, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“Got a free seat right here,” he smirks, patting his thigh. This fucker.

An angry glare forms along the girl’s face as she stares at you with a displeased grunt. Crossing your arms, you let out a breathy chuckle. “I would, but I wouldn’t wanna interrupt anything.”

Sukuna never even turns towards the girl who now traces her fingertips down his chest. “Nothin’ to interrupt here, baby.”

Exchanging a quick glance at the increasingly unhappy stranger lounged across him, she lets out an annoyed scoff as she rolls her eyes, finally removing herself from Sukuna. Brushing past you, she tries to shove into your shoulder before she misses, tumbling forward and back onto the dance floor.

You can’t help but giggle at the failed show of dominance, your eyes now finding their way back to Sukuna. He pats his thighs again expectantly, eyebrows quirking as he awaits your response.

He’s fucking with you, of course.

But before you know it, you’re standing between his legs. With a small sigh, you seat yourself on his lap, bare legs straddling him. A whisper of mischief dances behind his eyes while his hands make their way to your hips, holding you firmly in place.

“See? Isn’t this much more comfortable?” he taunts.

Heat builds in your core at how low his voice is, the rumbling of thunder just before a storm.

“Mmm,” you hum, letting your dissatisfaction show as you click your tongue. Wrapping your arms easily around his neck, your fingertips absentmindedly trace the lines of his tattoos to where they end at the neckline of his t-shirt. “It’s a bit better, but something’s still missing.”

“Oh yeah?” When he smiles, the lines adorning his skin crease invitingly. “And what’s that, sweetheart?”

You can’t help but grin silently. Because you can fuck with him, too.

Rolling your hips forward, your clothed pussy drags along the outline of his cock. The firm denim of his jeans provides just enough friction to have you stifling a moan. He inhales sharply through his nose, the soft sound cutting through the static noise surrounding you.

“Isn’t that better?” you coo teasingly as his fingertips dig into your waist.

A choked groan leaves his throat, his inability to let you have the upperhand fighting against the sudden desire to pin you down on this shitty couch and fuck you right here. Attempting to shake the thought off, his head falls forward into your neck.

Of course he’s thought about you like that before - you’re gorgeous, fucking hilarious, and somehow just as stubborn as he is. You’re everything he’s ever wanted.

But some small part of him worries that the moment he pushes you too far, you’ll run, just like everyone else in his life. He was always too intense, too angry, too much. But not to you - you seemed to love him in spite of it, maybe even because of it.

Maybe that’s why he lets himself play this eternal game of cat and mouse, the push and pull.

But fuck, right now he wants to pull.

He wants to pull you against him, dragging you along the length of his hardening cock through his boxers. He wants to pull you up and down as he fucks into you, feeling your warm walls meld around him. He wants to pull your lips apart with his, tasting how sweet you are, whispering things he wouldn’t dare say to anyone else. Anyone but you.

The words feel heavy on the tip of his tongue. I want you. I want you. I want you. They’re too weighted, he worries. Instead, he settles for biting at your neck, hoping that your skin between his teeth will be enough to satiate his body’s need.

“S-shit,” you stammer at the sensations of his canines digging into your flesh. “Acting like a fuckin’ teething puppy, hm? Need someone to train some manners into you? Or do you want me to tell you to sit, stay, tell you you’re doing a good job?”

And he does. But of course, he’d never tell you that.

Instead, he bites harder, leaving dark bruises in his wake, a reminder of his mark on you.

As his lips trace up your neck, he pauses to nibble along your earlobe. “Just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea,” he whispers, his breath hot. “Wouldn’t want anyone taking what’s mine.”

You nearly whimper at the words - his? - but you manage to hold back, instead letting your neediness out with another circle of your hips. He hopes you miss the way his breath catches in his throat at the movement.

“Oh? I’m yours now?” you tease, silently pleading he doesn’t notice the lingering waver in your voice. “Quite possessive, don’t you think, ‘Kuna?”

You feel him chuckle more than you hear it, the warm puffs of air gently blowing against your hair. “I’m only possessive of things I want,” he growls. God, you always loved that rasp in his voice, like a gravel road lining the way home.

At this point, you’re sure your panties are soaked through, the tip of his cock dragging along your clit through them. You’ve never gone this far with him before, never been so bold, so desperate.

And he fucking loves it.

“And what do you want?” Your voice is airy, breathless, as your pace seems to pick up. You’re grateful for the dim LEDs flashing distantly from the depths of the party for hiding the blush undoubtedly dusting your cheeks.

Trailing wet kisses along your jawline, his mouth comes to rest just in front of you. His lips are soft, barely brushing against yours, a few millimeters apart. So close. So fucking close.

“I think it’s rather obvious.” His breath smells like liquor and desire as he whispers, “I want you.”

a/n: getting out of my writing slump by going back to my roots (wanting to fuck sukuna)

[ssailormoonn]

❛ CLOSING THE DISTANCE ❜

Tomioka Giyuu X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.3k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; no warnings, giyuu kills a demon infront of us, reader is his wife, giyuu is distant + more?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Heyy, i was wondering if you could write a request with tomioka giyuu and reader where they are married/dating but hes really distant with her. One night she gets attacked either by a demon or someone breaking in 🤷‍♀️ and he saves her and like after that its all yours. ❤️❤️❤️ - @toastytoes0

m.list | demon slayer m.list

Giyuu was never really the talkative type, even when the two of you had finally gotten together, and then married, he was still the reserved, few-word type, and his words still both carried an obvious sense of retraction. He used to converse with you more often when the two of you were just in your girlfriend and boyfriend stage, but now, he's fully withdrawn, barely speaking to you, his wife, who waits for him patiently for him every night. 

Not to say he didn't care-you knew that much, he did in his own little ways. But his aloofness, sometimes felt like an insurmountable weight on your chest at moments in time when the warmth of him would have sufficed. 

On missions, he would disappear from your shared house and return with even fewer words. His eyes were always clouded by something which one could never quite decipher. When you were catering to his injuries, only a few words came from his mouth at best, other than that, it was just soft hisses slipping from his mouth due to the disinfectant.  You reached for him, over and over, trying to bridge the gap between you and him, but so often it was as if you just wasn't quite in reach. The nights had been the most difficult. He'd lie beside you, his body would be quite stiff which made you always have a welling guilt bubble up in you as if you did something wrong. But, it was as if he were afraid that even in his sleep he might accidentally draw too close. The house was creepily silent that night, the kind of silence that stood the hair at the back of one's neck on end. Giyuu had left earlier that day for a mission and was not expected to return until morning. You were used to being alone, but that night felt off. There was a tension hanging in the air, an apparent aura of danger that you couldn't shake.

You were okay. There is wisteria incense burning outside, so you're okay. You shook off the eeirer feeling, deciding to busy yourself with tasks that would take your mind off the sensation. However, no matter how much you busied yourself, that feeling of worry continued to grow stronger in your gut. A deep and shaky breath leaves your mouth as you calm yourself down. YOu then continued with busting yourself. But then, you found yourself looking out the window, watching as the shadows got longer due to the moon.

That feeling of being watched never left.

You decided to retire to bed, praying that sleep would take you first before anxiety could really set in. As you lay out your shared futon, and snuggle into the sheets, pulling the blanket up to your nose you found yourself unable to sleep, the pounding of your heart was too loud to sleep. And so, midnight came, and your heart wasn't slowing down. Well into midnight, you heard it, and that's a shaky, quiet gasp that slips past your mouth due to the soft creaking of a floorboard and the gentle rustle of movement. Freezing, your heart pounded inside the chest. Someone-or something-was inside the house. You had barely time to react when, with a burst of speed, your bedroom door swung open: a huge, dark figure filled the doorway, while its silhouette was poorly outlined by the faint moonlight that filtered through the window. Your body instinctively curled up while the figure moved towards you, the gleam of a weapon visible, and you knew you were in grave danger. But before the figure could get any closer, a blur of movement shot through the room. A clanging sound of metal to metal echoed within the small room, followed by an anguished grunt. You look up in time and see Giyuu- his katana gleaming in the moonlight-fighting off your attacker with the precision you had never seen before. His calm had turned into something feral, something terrifying. The air around him is filled with raw power as he subdued the demon in quick succession, his blade cutting through the night like a razor through silk. It was over in a matter of seconds. The figure slumped to the ground, dead, and Giyuu stood over them, as they disintegrated into the air. For several moments, neither of you budged. Then suddenly, as if snapped out of his trance, Giyuu turned to you, his eyes wide with emotion-illegible to you. Letting his sword fall to the ground, he whirled himself up to his feet and ran toward your side. The clatter of his sword against the floor sent an echo through the room. Are you hurt?" His voice was rough with urgency that made your heart ache. He reached out, his hands trembling with uncertainty over where to touch you. You shook your head wordlessly. The shock from the attack and suddenly seeing your generally so-distant husband was too much to absorb all at once, and you found yourself reduced to staring up at him, brimming with tears. Giyuu's face softened at the sight of you, his hand finally coming up to rest against your cheek. The warmth touching you sent a shiver running down your back, you leaned into the touch, desperate for any comfort you could recieve. "I'm sorry," he whispered, voice breaking, "I'm so sorry. You'd blinked, thrown by the raw vulnerability lacing each word. Giyuu had never apologized much less voice himself so candidly. The distance he had kept from you felt like a chasm now, one he tries to bridge yet didn't know how. "Why?" you croaked out, voice shaking. "Why have you been so distant? Giyuu's hand on your cheek had tightened slightly, his thumb stroked the tear that had escaped your eye. "I... I thought it was for the best. I did not want to hurt you one day, that I have been killed on a mission, and never returned to you. I thought it was best to distance myself, so that maybe if that did happen, it would hurt you less." You shook your head, a sob escaping your lips. "But you're my husband Giyuu, and I want to share that burden with you, be there for you, no matter how dark it will be.

His eyes, too, seemed to search yours for something-assurance, maybe; absolution? "In a way," he whispered, so low. "I was afraid-afraid that if I did, I'd lose you." You reached out with your free hand and gently touched his, your fingers intertwining with his. "You won't lose me," you promised, trying to keep your voice steady when it was still quivering from the falling tears. "But you will if you keep pushing me away." Giyuu nodded, his eyes at last shining with unshed tears as his façade cracked. He pulled you close to him, clasping you tightly against his chest, as if he really did fear you would disappear should he let go. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent as you let yourself finally relax in the circle of his arms. For the first time since the two of you had been together, Giyuu wasn't distant; it was as if the walls he built up in his head finally crumbled down, showing behind them a man just as scared-just as vulnerable-as yourself. He hugged you like you were the most precious thing in the world, and in this moment, you knew things would go differently from here on out. Giyuu stayed with you all night, never once letting go of your hand. You spoke-really spoke-for what must have felt like an eternity. He confides in you about his fears and you in turn comfort him, reminding him that he isn't alone anymore, he no longer needed to carry that weight by himself anymore. Giyuu leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, his lips staying there. "I'll protect you," he whispered low, the brim of his words spilling over with love as you finally fell asleep in his arms for the first time in forever. "I'll always protect you."

And for the first time, you did

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | demon slayer m.list

demon slayers m.list

[vaultureculture]

I could talk extensively about how I think Vere represents hedonism, whereas Mhin symbolizes self-repression, and that's why they're both enemies and foils. And I will. 

Hedonism. In broad terms (and without getting into distinctions between axiological and ethical hedonism), it could be defined as the theory that describes the pursuit of pleasure and satisfaction of desires as the end goal of life. 

Good music, fine clothing, quality champagne, drawing, sex. Vere gives himself to everything natural to the soul without restraint. One may even argue that his predilection for suffering (and I quote, it is precisely suffering that makes MC's soul "so irresistible" to him) may too be related to this. What is wallowing in sorrow but yet another excess of the heart? 

Vere is an ancient, supernatural being that seemingly exists purely through self-indulgence and physical demands. Hunger is a relevant theme to his character; he embodies both the primordial need for sustenance AND the fear of being preyed upon, a terror most animals —humans included— share. He craves what is authentic, and, despite his continuous teasing and lying, he is undoubtedly the most honest character so far in letting us know what he is and does. Vere is natural, raw, and, for now, unashamed. 

Now Mhin, to me, they embody the concept of resistance. We've seen how their fatal flaw states they will try to resist change at any cost. They're a newcomer plagued by a curse they do not want, a monster that lives within them and they resent. If you look closely at their "monster forms" in the trailer, you may be able to appreciate that Mhin's (along with Kuras'...chest...face thing) is the only one that seems to be crying. 

There seems to be a clear divide between Mhin's human consciousness and the monstrous bird form that takes over them. This gap is insurmountable enough for them to feel as though their transformation involves a breach of emotional consent: they resist this metamorphosis, yet it happens violently regardless of their desires. This makes them repulsed by anything that side of them represents, sickened by what is inherent to them. 

If we consider Mhin's constant rejection of natural desires in opposition to Vere's embracing of them, it is easy to understand why they don't get along. They are what the other despises the most, and have a disposition towards life so antinatural to each other that any chances of meeting in the middle are immediately discarded. 

This just makes me want to see more of them interacting together, though. 

That is all. 

[lunardragon00]

End of the World (Mingi x Reader)

Eternal Sunshine Masterlist

Boyfriend Mingi x Nurse!Reader 

Established Relationship // Angst // strained relationship

If the sun refused to shine. Baby, would I still be your lover? Would you want me there? If the moon went dark tonight And if it all ended tomorrow, would I be the one on your mind?

The air was heavy with tension as Y/N stepped into the dimly lit apartment she shared with her boyfriend. The distant sounds of traffic outside only added to the suffocating atmosphere within. It had been another long day, punctuated by terse exchanges and unspoken grievances, leaving her feeling weary and emotionally drained.

Their relationship had once been filled with laughter and shared dreams, but over time, the cracks had begun to show. What had started as minor disagreements had escalated into full-blown arguments, leaving both parties wounded and disillusioned. Despite their efforts to salvage what remained of their love, it seemed as though they were constantly teetering on the edge of irreparable damage.

As Y/N sank onto the couch, her boyfriend stepped out of their bedroom and into the kitchen. Y/N's boyfriend, Mingi, looked worn and distant as he busied himself in the kitchen, the clinking of dishes providing a stark contrast to the heavy silence that enveloped the apartment. His movements were mechanical, devoid of the warmth and tenderness that had once defined their relationship.

Sighing softly, Y/N watched him from the couch, feeling a pang of sadness and resignation settle in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't remember the last time they had shared a genuine moment of connection, a shared laugh, or even a simple embrace that didn't feel forced and hollow.

"Mingi," Y/N began tentatively, her voice barely above a whisper, "Can we talk?"

Mingi paused, his back still turned to her as he gripped the edge of the sink tightly. For a moment, it seemed as though he might ignore her, but then he slowly turned around, his expression guarded.

"What is it, Y/N?" he asked, his tone tinged with weariness.

Y/N hesitated, unsure of where to begin. How could she articulate the weight of their crumbling relationship, the countless nights spent tossing and turning as doubts and regrets gnawed at her conscience? But she knew she couldn't continue to ignore the truth, couldn't keep pretending that everything was fine when it clearly wasn't.

"I... I think we need to talk about us," Y/N finally admitted, her voice trembling slightly.

Mingi's eyes flickered with a mix of resignation and apprehension as he crossed the room to sit beside her on the couch. The space between them felt vast and insurmountable, a silent testament to the chasm that had grown between them.

"I'm done talking about us," Mingi began, his voice strained with emotion, "Can we have one fucking night where you aren't lecturing me about what I'm doing wrong? Please." Y/N's heart sank at Mingi's words, the sting of his frustration cutting through her like a knife. She had hoped for understanding, for a chance to bridge the widening gap between them, but instead, she found herself met with resentment and anger.

"I'm not trying to lecture you," Y/N replied, her voice tinged with sorrow, "I just... I don't know how else to fix this. I don't know how else to make things right between us."

Mingi's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and frustration. "Well, maybe there's nothing left to fix," he muttered bitterly, his words hanging heavily in the air between them.

The weight of his admission hung over Y/N like a suffocating blanket, crushing her hopes and dreams of salvaging their crumbling relationship. She had clung to the belief that love could conquer all, that they could weather any storm together, but now, faced with Mingi's cold indifference, she couldn't help but feel the shards of her heart splintering irreparably.

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes as she gazed at Mingi, searching for a glimmer of the warmth and tenderness that had once defined their love. But all she found was emptiness—a vast, desolate void that mirrored the depths of her own despair.

"I'm sorry," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with emotion, "I didn't mean...I just...I just want us to be happy again."

For a moment, there was a flicker of something akin to remorse in Mingi's eyes, a fleeting glimpse of the man she had fallen in love with. But then, as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, replaced once more by the cold, distant facade that had become his shield against the pain of their crumbling relationship.

"I need some air," Mingi muttered, rising abruptly from the couch and making his way to the door without a backward glance.

And as he disappeared into the night, leaving Y/N alone in the suffocating silence of their apartment, she couldn't help but wonder if this was truly the end—or if somewhere amidst the wreckage of their shattered dreams, there still lingered a glimmer of hope for a future yet to be written.

She wiped the tear shedding from her eye and stood up, making her way to the bathroom. As Y/N entered the bathroom, the harsh fluorescent light cast a cold, unforgiving glow over her reflection in the mirror. She hesitated for a moment, steeling herself against the onslaught of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

With trembling hands, she reached for a tissue, gently dabbing at the tear stains on her cheeks. Each movement felt mechanical, detached, as though she were merely going through the motions of living rather than truly experiencing it.

But as she stared into her own reflection, Y/N couldn't help but confront the harsh truth staring back at her—that she had lost herself somewhere along the way, lost sight of the vibrant, passionate woman she once was.

With a sigh, she turned on the faucet, allowing the cool water to cascade over her hands, washing away the remnants of her tears. The sensation was both soothing and jarring, a tangible reminder of the tumultuous emotions churning within her.

Closing her eyes, Y/N took a deep breath, willing herself to find the strength to face the uncertainty that lay ahead. She couldn't change the past, couldn't undo the mistakes they had made, but she refused to let it define her future. She dried her face off and headed to their bedroom. 

Y/N's gaze swept across the room, her eyes landing on the familiar sight of their shared bedroom. The soft glow of moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle, ethereal light over the room, illuminating the countless memories scattered amidst the shadows.

Her heart clenched as she took in the sight—the cozy comforter rumpled from countless nights spent tangled in each other's embrace, the shelves lined with souvenirs and trinkets from their adventures together, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air like a bittersweet reminder of what once was.

But amidst the relics of their past, there was one memento that stood out—a framed picture on the nightstand, capturing a moment frozen in time, a snapshot of pure happiness and joy. It was from their road trip, the one he had surprised her with for her birthday—a spontaneous adventure filled with laughter, spontaneity, and the promise of endless possibilities.

As Y/N approached the nightstand, her fingers trembling slightly, she reached out to trace the contours of the frame, her gaze lingering on the radiant smiles captured within. In that moment, she was transported back to a time when their love felt boundless, when the future seemed ripe with infinite potential.

But even as nostalgia threatened to engulf her, Y/N knew that she couldn't dwell in the past, couldn't cling to memories that had long since faded. She had to find the courage to let go, to embrace the uncertainty of the future, no matter how daunting it may seem.

With a heavy heart, she carefully lifted the picture from its place, cradling it in her hands as though it were a fragile relic of a bygone era. With a sigh, Y/N set the picture back down and  climbed into bed, pulling the covers up around her like a shield against the uncertainties of the night. 

"Damn, looks like you had a rough night." Y/N was pulled out of her daydream, looking to her coworker, Jimin. "Yeah, I kept waking up every hour." She stated, which wasn't a lie. Y/N had been having issues with her insomnia lately, and it only kept getting worse and worse with each day that passes. 

 "I told you, you need to start taking that melatonin I've been telling you about." Y/N offered Jimin a tired smile, grateful for his concern despite the fatigue weighing heavily on her shoulders. "I know, I know," she replied, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "I'll give it a try, I promise."

Jimin nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "Just make sure to take care of yourself, okay? You can't keep burning the candle at both ends like this."

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound tinged with self-deprecation. "Tell that to my never-ending to-do list," she quipped, though there was a hint of resignation in her tone.

She had first met Jimin about three years ago, he had been the one to interview her for the job at first. He was only four years older then she was, so they got along very quickly despite him being her superior. She was grateful for him entering her life, he had been non stop supportive with every decision she made. 

"What's the deal with room 597, are they still on alert?" she asked him, taking a seat at the station and logging into the computer.  Jimin flashed Y/N a knowing smile as he settled into his own workstation beside her. 

"Ah, room 597," he replied, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "They're still keeping us on our toes, but I think we've finally got their situation under control." Y/N nodded, relief flooding through her at the news. The patient in room 597 had been a constant source of concern for the nursing staff, the patient's condition fluctuating unpredictably and requiring round-the-clock monitoring and care.

"Good to hear," she murmured, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she pulled up the patient's chart. "Let's hope they stay stable for the rest of the shift."

As they settled into their routine, the familiar hum of activity filling the air around them, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the camaraderie she shared with Jimin and the rest of her coworkers. In a profession as demanding and emotionally taxing as nursing, having a strong support system was invaluable—a lifeline in the face of adversity.

And as she focused on her tasks, her mind momentarily free from the weight of her own worries, Y/N found herself embracing the sense of purpose that came with caring for others—a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was light to be found in the simple act of compassion. 

Some hours had passed now and Y/N was starting to get hungry. Once she finished her rounds, she could go on her break. She quickly pulled out the hospital's phone and messaged Jimin through the nurses shared app, seeing if he wanted to meet her for lunch. While typing the message, someone had bumped into her, causing her to drop her clipboard and phone. 

Y/N let out a soft exclamation of surprise as her clipboard and phone slipped from her grasp, clattering to the ground in a cacophony of noise. Startled, she looked up to see who had bumped into her, her heart pounding in her chest.

"I'm so sorry!" exclaimed a voice, and Y/N's eyes landed on a figure bending down to help her gather her belongings. It was Daniel, one of the hospital's newest hires, his expression apologetic as he handed her the items.

"It's okay, no harm done," Y/N replied with a grateful smile, her cheeks flushing slightly at the unexpected encounter. Daniel had always been kind and courteous during their interactions, his easygoing demeanor a welcome presence in the often stressful environment of the hospital.

As she thanked him, Y/N couldn't help but notice the warmth of Daniel's smile, the genuine concern reflected in his eyes. There was something comforting about his presence, a sense of calm amidst the chaos that surrounded them.

Once her belongings were safely back in her possession, Y/N offered Daniel a nod of appreciation before turning her attention back to her phone. With a quick glance at the time, she realized that her break was fast approaching, and she still hadn't heard back from Jimin.

Taking a deep breath, she quickly typed out a message to him, extending the invitation to meet for lunch. As she hit send, a surge of anticipation coursed through her veins, the prospect of spending time with her friend a welcome distraction from the rigors of her day. With a hopeful smile, Y/N tucked her phone back into her pocket, ready to resume her duties. 

As Y/N meticulously reviewed her notes, her focus unwavering despite the fatigue that threatened to weigh heavily on her eyelids. With each passing moment, the hospital grew quieter, the bustling energy of the day giving way to a hushed stillness that permeated the corridors.

With a final sweep of her pen, Y/N completed her rounds, satisfied that she had prepared everything to the best of her ability for the overnight team. The responsibility weighed heavily on her shoulders, a reminder of the trust placed in her to ensure the seamless continuity of care for the patients under her watch.

As she gathered her belongings and prepared to depart for the day, a sense of accomplishment washed over her, tempered by the knowledge that her work was far from over. The demands of the hospital were relentless, the cycle of care and compassion never-ending. With a tired but determined smile, Y/N made her way towards the exit, her steps echoing in the empty corridors. 

"Hey, Y/N, wait up." She turned to see Jimin running towards her, his satchel bouncing against his side as he did. "Hey, a couple of us are going out to 'Illusion', wanna come with?" Y/N thought about the proposal. She had heard of the bar, knowing many of the medical staff went their after their shift to mingle and destress. 

"I don't know min, Mingi hasn't gotten back to me about dinner yet and I'm exhausted." She exclaimed. She had messaged her boyfriend a few hours ago, wondering if he wanted to do anything special for dinner tonight, but he hadn't gotten back to her yet. 

"Oh come on, it'll be fun. Look, just come join us for a little bit, if you're too tired just oder some food to-go." Y/N hesitated, torn between the comfort of home and the allure of companionship and relaxation. The offer to join her coworkers at 'Illusion' was tempting, a chance to unwind and connect with others outside the confines of the hospital walls. But the uncertainty of her plans with Mingi lingered in the back of her mind, a nagging reminder of the complexities of her personal life.

"I appreciate the invite, Jimin, really, but I think I'll pass tonight," Y/N replied with a weary smile, her heart heavy with indecision. "I'll see how things go with Mingi and maybe catch up with you guys next time."

Jimin nodded understandingly, his expression sympathetic. "No worries, Y/N. Just take care of yourself, okay? We'll save a seat for you next time."

With a final wave, Jimin turned to join the group of coworkers waiting for him, leaving Y/N to ponder her decision in the solitude of the empty hallway. As she watched him disappear around the corner, a sense of loneliness washed over her, a reminder of the distance that had grown between her and Mingi in recent months.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N pulled out her phone, checking once more for any sign of a message from Mingi. But the screen remained stubbornly blank, devoid of any indication of his intentions for the evening.

Frustration gnawed at her insides, mingling with the exhaustion that weighed heavily on her shoulders. She longed for the warmth and familiarity of home, for the solace of Mingi's presence beside her. But as the minutes ticked by, it became increasingly clear that tonight, she would be facing the silence alone. With a resigned sigh, Y/N tucked her phone back into her pocket and turned towards the exit. 

"Hey, minie wait." Y/N jogged to catch up with the group. "I changed my mind, I'll come out for a bit." Jimin's grin widened as he slung an arm around Y/N's shoulders, his excitement palpable. "That's the spirit, Y/N!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine warmth. "We're gonna have a blast tonight, I promise!"

Y/N couldn't help but smile in response, her heart feeling lighter at the prospect of spending time with her coworkers. Despite the lingering uncertainty of her personal life, she knew that she could always count on the camaraderie and support of her friends to lift her spirits.

As they made their way towards the exit together, Y/N felt a sense of anticipation building within her, a glimmer of excitement amidst the weariness that still lingered in her bones. Tonight, she would set aside her worries and immerse herself in the simple joys of laughter and companionship, finding solace in the company of those who mattered most.

With a newfound sense of determination, Y/N stepped out into the cool night air, ready to embrace whatever the evening may bring. 

Y/N sat back in the booth, her gaze drifting over the lively scene unfolding before her. The atmosphere at 'Illusion' was infectious, the pulsating rhythm of the music and the laughter of her coworkers creating a sense of warmth and camaraderie that was hard to resist. Despite her initial reservations, she found herself relaxing into the easy familiarity of the surroundings, the tension of the day slowly melting away.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/N barely noticed when Daniel approached, his figure materializing beside her like a shadow in the dimly lit room. Startled, she turned to face him, a faint blush coloring her cheeks at the unexpected encounter.

"Hey, Y/N," Daniel greeted with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine affection. "Mind if I join you?"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, her pulse quickening in response to his proximity. Though they had never been more than casual acquaintances, there was something about Daniel's presence that felt oddly comforting, a reassuring presence in the midst of the chaos.

"Of course," Y/N replied, her voice soft with gratitude. "I'm glad you're here." As Daniel settled into the seat opposite her, a comfortable silence settled between them, the music and laughter of their coworkers providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. 

"How's it been working at the hospital so far? You enjoying it?" She asked. 

Daniel smiled warmly at Y/N's question, his eyes reflecting a genuine sense of contentment. "It's been great, honestly," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of enthusiasm. "I've always had a passion for helping others, so being able to make a difference in people's lives every day is incredibly rewarding."

Y/N nodded in understanding, a sense of admiration swelling within her at Daniel's heartfelt words. She had always been drawn to his compassionate nature, his unwavering dedication to his work shining through in every interaction they shared.

"I feel the same way," Y/N admitted, her own voice tinged with sincerity. "It's challenging at times, but knowing that we're making a positive impact on the lives of our patients makes it all worthwhile."

As they continued to chat, the barrier of formality between them began to dissolve, replaced by a sense of ease and familiarity that felt surprisingly natural. Daniel's presence was like a balm to Y/N's weary soul, his genuine kindness and understanding serving as a source of comfort in the midst of her uncertainties. With each passing moment, Y/N found herself opening up to Daniel in ways she hadn't anticipated, sharing stories and laughter as though they were old friends catching up after years apart.

And as the night wore on, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected connection she had found in Daniel, a reminder that sometimes, the most meaningful relationships were the ones that took us by surprise. With a smile on her lips and a warmth in her heart, she leaned back in her seat, ready to embrace the joys of the present moment.

"You were out late last night. Who were you with?" Y/N rubbed her face as she stumbled into the kitchen, sleep still trying to trap her. 

"Oh, Jimin invited me and a couple colleagues out to some bar down the street. 'Illusion' I think it's called." She replied, reaching for the cup of coffee Mingi had made for her. "Sounds like fun, you enjoy yourself?" He asked, stirring the sugar and creamer in his cup as he leaned against the counter, watching as Y/N prepared her own drink. 

"I did actually, it's been a while since I've gone out like that." Mingi's gaze lingered on Y/N as she spoke, a flicker of curiosity dancing in his eyes. "Glad to hear you had a good time," he remarked, his tone neutral. "Did you guys do anything special?"

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, taking a sip of her coffee as she tried to shake off the lingering fog of sleep. "Just some karaoke and drinks, nothing too crazy," she replied with a small smile. "It was nice to unwind after a long day at work."

Mingi nodded in understanding, though there was a hint of something unreadable in his expression. "Well, I'm glad you had fun," he murmured, though his words lacked the warmth and sincerity Y/N had hoped for.

As they settled into the familiar routine of their morning routine, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at her insides. There was a distance between them, a barrier that seemed to grow thicker with each passing day, leaving her feeling isolated and alone in the midst of their shared existence.

But she pushed aside her doubts and insecurities, determined to focus on the present moment and the fleeting semblance of normalcy it offered. With a forced smile, she turned her attention back to Mingi, grateful for the brief respite from the weight of their strained relationship.

"I have the day off today, maybe we could go out and do something. That sushi bar just opened up downtown, maybe we could check it out?" Y/N's suggestion hung in the air, the weight of anticipation tinged with uncertainty as she waited for Mingi's response. She couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope stir within her, a desperate longing for a moment of connection amidst the ever-widening chasm that threatened to consume their relationship.

Mingi hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing in contemplation as he considered her proposal. "I don't know, Y/N," he replied, his voice tinged with reluctance. "I've got a lot of stuff to catch up on around the house today. Maybe we can reschedule for another time?"

Disappointment washed over Y/N like a wave, her heart sinking at the familiar pang of rejection. She had hoped for a chance to escape the confines of their routine, to rediscover the spark that had once ignited their love. But once again, it seemed as though their plans were destined to crumble before they even had a chance to take flight.

With a forced smile, Y/N nodded in understanding, though the ache of disappointment lingered in the depths of her soul. "Sure, maybe next time," she murmured, her voice tinged with resignation. Setting her coffee down, she made her way back to the bedroom. 

Y/N went to check her phone and when opening it, she noticed a new message from an unknown number. 

(xxx)xxx-xxxx

Hey Y/N, this is Daniel, you gave me your number yesterday          sent 8:43am

Do you mind if I borrow that drug therapy book you were talking about last night? It seemed interesting.  sent 8:44am

Y/N had a small smile on her face reading the message. 

Y/N

Yeah, of course!! Just let me know when a good time is to drop it off. Or I can bring it to work next time I'm in? sent 9:01am

Before she could put her phone back down, a response came back. 

Daniel (hospital)

Oh, you're off today? Awesome, I'm home too!  Maybe we can meet up somewhere. There's this really cool sushi place that opened up downtown last month, I've been dying to try it. Does that sound good? sent 9:02am

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she read Daniel's message, a surge of excitement coursing through her veins at the unexpected invitation. Despite the disappointment of her earlier rejection, a glimmer of hope flickered to life within her, a tantalizing promise of new beginnings on the horizon. A smile spread across her lips as she quickly typed out her response, her fingers trembling slightly with anticipation.

Y/N

That sounds perfect, Daniel! I'd love to meet up. Let's say around 1 pm? sent 9:05am

As she hit send, a sense of anticipation bubbled within her, mingling with the warmth of excitement that flooded her chest. Though the future remained uncertain, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of optimism stirring within her—a whisper of possibility amidst the chaos, urging her to embrace the opportunities that lay ahead.

Jimin observed Y/N and Daniel's budding friendship with a mixture of happiness and concern. While he was glad to see Y/N in better spirits and enjoying the company of her coworker, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling of unease that gnawed at his insides.

As her friend and confidant, Jimin couldn't help but worry about the implications of Y/N's growing closeness to Daniel. Despite her relationship with Mingi, it was clear to him that there was a special bond forming between Y/N and Daniel—one that went beyond the boundaries of mere friendship.

Though he wanted nothing more than to see Y/N happy, Jimin couldn't ignore the potential consequences of her actions. He knew that her relationship with Mingi was already strained, and he feared that her newfound connection with Daniel could only serve to further complicate matters.

But as much as he wanted to intervene, Jimin knew that ultimately, the decision was Y/N's to make. All he could do was offer his support and guidance, hoping that she would find her way back to the path that was right for her.

As Jimin approached the bench where he and Y/N typically met for lunch, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of apprehension at the sight of her and Daniel sitting together. The warmth of the sun on his skin and the gentle rustle of leaves overhead seemed incongruous with the knot of worry that tightened in his chest.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Jimin forced a smile onto his face as he approached the pair. "Hey, guys," he greeted, his voice tinged with forced cheerfulness.

Y/N looked up, her eyes lighting up with a genuine smile at the sight of Jimin. "Hey, Jimin!" she exclaimed, her tone warm with affection. "Have a seat, we were just discussing some work stuff."

Daniel nodded in greeting, his expression friendly but guarded. "Hey, Jimin," he said, though there was a hint of tension in his voice that did not go unnoticed by Jimin.

As Jimin settled onto the bench beside them, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air between them. Despite Y/N's easy demeanor and Daniel's polite nods, there was an underlying tension that seemed to crackle with unspoken words and unacknowledged emotions.

Forcing himself to push aside his concerns, Jimin plastered on a smile and engaged in the conversation, doing his best to act as though everything was normal. But deep down, he knew that the delicate balance of their friendship was teetering on the edge, and he feared that one wrong move could send everything spiraling out of control.

"Oh shit, I forgot to grab napkins. I'll be right back." Daniel rose from the bench and headed inside the cafeteria. Now that it was just them two, Jimin decided to take advantage of the situation. 

"So...you and Daniel have gotten close these past couple weeks." He said, opening up his food container and started to spread everything out. 

Y/N's smile faltered slightly at Jimin's remark, a flicker of unease crossing her features as she met his gaze. Though she had expected the conversation to turn to Daniel eventually, she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the realization that her growing friendship with her coworker hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Yeah, we have," she replied carefully, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Daniel's been really great to work with, and we've bonded over some shared interests."

As she spoke, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of defensiveness rising within her, a reflexive need to justify her actions in the face of Jimin's probing gaze. She knew that her relationship with Daniel was already on shaky ground, and the last thing she wanted was to complicate things further by inadvertently causing tension with her friends.

"I noticed you guys go out a lot, has he met Daniel yet?" Y/N's heart skipped a beat at Jimin's question, her mind racing as she tried to navigate the delicate balance between honesty and discretion. She knew that her growing friendship with Daniel had the potential to cause misunderstandings and hurt feelings, especially if it appeared that she was prioritizing her time with him over her relationship with Mingi.

"Um, not yet," she admitted, her voice tinged with guilt. "We've mostly just hung out during work hours or grabbed lunch together. Mingi's been busy with his own schedule outside of work, so we haven't really had a chance to introduce him to Mingi yet."

The words sounded hollow even to her own ears, a flimsy excuse to mask the underlying truth of her growing feelings for Daniel and the strain it was placing on her relationship with Mingi. She knew that she needed to tread carefully, to avoid causing any further harm to those she cared about most.

"Well....how does he feel about you hanging out with him all the time? I mean, I know it was a bit of an issue when we first became friends, at least until he found out I had a boyfriend." Jimin asked.

"He's...he's not thrilled about it," Y/N admitted reluctantly, her voice barely above a whisper. "We've had some...discussions about it, but I've tried to reassure him that it's just a work thing, you know? I don't want him to think that there's anything more going on between me and Daniel."

As she spoke, Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the half-truths and evasions that slipped from her lips. She knew that she was walking a dangerous line, teetering on the edge of betrayal as she struggled to balance the conflicting demands of her heart and her loyalty to Mingi.

But as the weight of her words settled over her, Y/N couldn't help but wonder if she was fooling herself with false promises and empty reassurances. With a heavy sigh, Y/N turned her gaze away, unable to meet Jimin's concerned eyes. 

"Look," Jimin set down his utensils and looked to his friend. "I'm not trying to be mean, I just....I want you to be careful." Y/N felt a lump form in her throat as she listened to Jimin's earnest words, his concern washing over her like a soothing balm amidst the turmoil of her thoughts. Though she had been desperately trying to convince herself that she could navigate the treacherous waters of her emotions with ease, she couldn't deny the truth in Jimin's gentle admonition.

"I know, Jimin," she replied softly, her voice tinged with regret. "And I appreciate your concern, I really do. It's just...it's complicated, you know?"

She glanced up at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears as she struggled to put words to the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. "I don't want to hurt anyone, especially Mingi. But at the same time, I can't ignore how I feel. Daniel...he's become an important part of my life, and I don't know what to do."

Jimin reached out, gently squeezing her hand in a gesture of solidarity and support. "I understand, Y/N," he murmured, his voice filled with empathy. "But you have to be honest with yourself and with Daniel. You can't keep living in denial, pretending that everything is fine when it's not. You owe it to yourself to find happiness, even if it means making difficult choices."

Y/N nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of Jimin's words. She knew that he was right—that she couldn't continue to deceive herself and those she cared about most. And though the road ahead was fraught with uncertainty and pain, she knew that she had to find the courage to face it head-on, armed with nothing but the truth and the unwavering support of her friends.

"Hey, sorry it took so long, I ran into Yunho on my way back." As Daniel sat back down on the bench, he looked at Jimin and Y/N, noticing that something was off. 

"Everything ok guys?" Y/N exchanged a quick glance with Jimin before offering Daniel a small, forced smile. "Yeah, everything's fine," she replied, her voice lacking its usual warmth. "Just catching up with Jimin, that's all."

Jimin nodded in agreement, though his expression remained guarded. "Yeah, just talking about work stuff," he added, his tone casual despite the tension that lingered in the air.

Daniel studied them for a moment, his brow furrowing in concern at the palpable shift in atmosphere. "Are you sure?" he pressed, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "You both seem a little...off."

Y/N's smile faltered slightly, a pang of guilt twisting in her chest at the thought of lying to Daniel. But before she could respond, Jimin spoke up, his voice gentle but firm. "We're fine, Daniel," he assured, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "Just some stuff on our minds, that's all. But don't worry about it."

Daniel regarded them both with a thoughtful expression, though he seemed to sense that pressing further would only exacerbate the tension. With a small nod, he let the matter drop, though the concern in his eyes lingered as they returned to their meal.

As Y/N sat across from Mingi at the cozy restaurant he had chosen for their date, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over her like a heavy blanket. Though she had initially been delighted by his gesture and the prospect of spending quality time together, now that they were in the moment, she couldn't help but feel a sense of disconnect that lingered between them like a silent barrier.

The restaurant buzzed with activity, the clink of cutlery and the murmur of conversation filling the air around them. But despite the cheerful ambiance, a palpable tension hung between Y/N and Mingi, a stark reminder of the strain that had come to define their relationship in recent months.

As she picked at her food, Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the realization of just how much had changed between them. Gone were the days of laughter and shared dreams, replaced instead by awkward silences and forced conversation. Though she longed for the warmth and familiarity of their past, she knew that it was a distant memory—a relic of a time that could never be reclaimed.

With a heavy heart, Y/N glanced across the table at Mingi, his expression strained as he attempted to maintain a facade of normalcy. She knew that he was trying, that he wanted nothing more than to recapture the spark that had once ignited their love. But as the minutes ticked by, it became increasingly clear that their efforts were in vain—that the distance between them had grown too vast to bridge.

"I heard Yoongi proposed to Jimin, he must be excited huh?" He asked, taking a sip of the wine the waitress had brought over when they first sat down. Y/N's heart sank at Mingi's attempt to steer the conversation towards their friends' joyous news. While she wanted to share in their happiness, the mention of Yoongi's proposal only served as a painful reminder of the stark contrast between their relationship and those of their friends.

"Yeah, he must be," Y/N replied softly, her voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "It's wonderful news for them."

As she spoke, Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at the thought of Yoongi and Jimin's impending nuptials. While their friends had found happiness and fulfillment in each other's arms, she and Mingi seemed to be drifting further apart with each passing day, the chasm between them widening with each failed attempt to reignite the flame that had once burned so brightly.

Mingi nodded absently, his gaze distant as he swirled the wine in his glass. "Yeah," he murmured, though his words lacked conviction. "It's...it's great."

The silence that followed hung heavy between them, a tangible reminder of the gulf that separated them from the blissful happiness of their friends. And as they sat in the quiet solitude of their own thoughts, Y/N couldn't help but wonder if their relationship had run its course—that perhaps it was time to face the painful truth that their love had faded, leaving nothing but the bitter sting of regret in its wake.

With a heavy heart, Y/N pushed aside her glass and met Mingi's gaze with a sad smile. "I think I'm ready to go home," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Mingi looked at her, shock written on his face. He gave a nervous chuckle.

"I'm sure they'll bring the food out in a minute, don't you want to eat?" Y/N forced a small, strained smile at Mingi's attempt to lighten the mood, though her heart felt heavy with the weight of unspoken truths and unresolved emotions. She knew that their relationship had reached a critical juncture, one that could no longer be ignored or brushed aside with empty pleasantries.

"I'm really not hungry," she replied softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "I think I just need some time to...to think."

Mingi's expression softened, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and resignation. "Okay," he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "uh, you can go wait in the car then. I'll tell the waiter to make the food to-go."

Y/N nodded silently, her heart heavy with the weight of their unspoken emotions. As Mingi excused himself to speak with the waiter, she watched him go, feeling a sense of sadness wash over her like a tidal wave.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N rose from her seat and made her way outside, the cool night air offering little solace against the storm of emotions raging within her. She leaned against the side of the car, her thoughts swirling with uncertainty and longing as she waited for Mingi to join her.

As he emerged from the restaurant a few minutes later, a bag of food in hand, Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the sight of him. Without a word, Y/N climbed into the car beside Mingi, the silence between them echoing with the weight of their unspoken truths. And as they drove home in the quiet solitude of their own thoughts, Y/N couldn't help but wonder what the future held for them both, and whether they would ever find the courage to face the painful truths that lay hidden beneath the surface of their crumbling relationship.

They pulled into the parking garage of their apartment building, both sitting in silence listening to the car rumble as it sits. Moments of silence pass before Mingi speaks up. 

"What the hell is going on?" Y/N felt a knot tighten in her chest at Mingi's abrupt question, his frustration evident in the tense lines of his jaw and the furrowed brow that marred his features. She knew that their relationship had reached a breaking point, one that could no longer be ignored or glossed over with empty platitudes.

"I don't know," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just...I don't know anymore."

Mingi let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of exasperation. "It feels like we're just...drifting apart," he admitted, his voice tinged with sadness. "I don't want to lose you, Y/N. But I don't know how to fix this."

Y/N's heart ached at the raw vulnerability in Mingi's words, his pain mirroring her own in a way that cut her to the core. She knew that they were teetering on the edge of a precipice, one that could either lead to reconciliation or irreversible separation.

"I don't want to lose you either," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "But maybe...maybe we need some time apart to figure things out. To see if we can find our way back to each other."

Mingi's gaze met hers, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. "Do you think...do you think it's too late for us?" he asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.

Y/N shook her head, her heart heavy with the weight of their shared regret. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm willing to try if you are."

And as they sat in the quiet solitude of their car, surrounded by the echoes of their fractured love, Y/N couldn't help but wonder if they would ever find the courage to face the painful truths that lay hidden beneath the surface of their crumbling relationship—or if they were destined to remain lost to each other forever.

next story coming soon......

Thank you guys for enjoying the first inclusion of the series, it makes me happy seeing people like the posts. If you want to join the taglist, please let me know.

Taglist: @scarfac3

[simpingcowboy]

Does Your Mother Know?

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x GN!Reader, age gap, reader is ~late teens-early 20's (but very of age they are an adult!!!!)

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warnings: heavy flirting, mostly failed attempt at seduction, briefly overprotective parents, discussions of marriage, mention of threesomes, some puberty talk, allusions to virginity/sexual inexperience

Summary: Your attempt to seduce the Prince of Dorne, Oberyn Martell, goes unexpectedly sour when he sees right through you. That doesn't mean he won't humor you though.

A/N: The January everyone pretend I posted this 2 hours ago when it was still January thank you Edition of my Year of ABBA as part of the Year of Creations @yearofcreation2023 ! I thought I'd start us off on a fun one!! My first time writing for Oberyn :) enjoy!!!

You'd been in King's Landing for 10 days without so much as an unescorted walk along the palace. Maybe it was your father's paranoia, or your mother's awareness of your less "civil" interests but they'd kept you on a short leash. They'd been hoping to use King Joffery's wedding as an impromptu dating event, hoping to convince you to marry. But you had your eyes on a much better prize.

Prince Oberyn of Dorne. Tales of his…escapades crossed rivers and mountains as did tales of his beauty. If the tales were true- well you simply had to find your way into his bed!

Which is where you found yourself now. On the precipice on the prince's doorway. After sneaking past guards and the watchful eye of your mother, you had made it. You watch him lie lowly in the sun, feeding himself from a basket of fruits he'd had brought to him. The tales did him no justice. Spread across the lounger, he was long and slender, not much unlike a viper at all. He moved with an insurmountable grace. Every move of his hands was controlled and swift. Even now you could envision how he earned the title The Red Viper.

His face is uniquely chiseled. Dark brown hair barely curls up on his forehead. A beautiful arched nose that reaches up towards the gods, old and new. His soft pouty lips wrap around a strawberry. Juices dribble down his chin that he eagerly wipes off with his thumb and returns to his mouth. A quiet pop as he releases his thumb from his mouth with a smile.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" The Prince turns to face you, dark brown eyes tracing over the intruder. "Or do we have business?"

For just a moment, you freeze. Prince Oberyn's gaze sat heavy on your body, pinning you in place. His eyes drink down the sight of you. Suddenly, you were very pleased with yourself for dressing well. The fabric you wore was clung nicely to your body. You'd purposely chosen something that was soft to touch.

"My Prince," you say with an unsteady bow, "I was told you may seek some company up here…I thought I would offer you my services."

"Services?" He repeats, eyebrows raised. "What is it you have to offer me?"

"Anything you want, but I thought I'd start by feeding you, My Prince."

He chuckles quietly, resting his head back against the cushioned lounger. When you do not immediately go to move he prompts you, "I don't like waiting!"

"Y-yes, My Prince." With that you nod and shuffle over to him. Gods, he was even more lovely close up. His hair looks so soft and fluffy. You wanted to run your hands through it. From above, you can see down the low V of his mustard robe. His bare chest and neck were intoxicating to look at.

"The grapes to start." He hums below you, eyes closed.

You do as he asks. Taking the bundle of grapes and lowering them down to his lips. Watching with excitement as he pulls it between his teeth. A groan of happiness spilling from him. He continues on, one after another. A subtle smirk clings to his face as he feels your eyes trace over his body.

"Do you find this amusing?" He humors you, taking another grape between his teeth.

"I do not know what you mean, My Prince." You say smiling, trying to put on your best show.

"Posing as a servant. Feeding me grapes in this-" his hand falls from his chest and lands on your back, thick fingers tracing over the thin fabric resting on your spine. "most exquisite fabric. If I were a lesser man I would ask what you want, but I can see what you want." He leans in closer to your chest, "I can see in your face that your feelings are driving you wild." He smirks, reclining back in his chair with a laugh and removing his hand from you.

He'd seen right through you…your face grows warm at the realization. "I'm sorry, My Prince…I was curious-"

"Do not apologize." He cuts you off. "But I must ask- Does your mother know?" He chides with a smile

"Know what, My prince?"

"That her child has snuck out to proposition the prince of Dorne?"

"I am grown. I need not the approval of my mother."

"Grown." He scoffs

"Enough." You retort.

The quickness of your response catches his attention. His eyes snap up to meet yours, "Quite the tongue you have, Little Viper." The Prince slithers out of his chair, quickly crowding you. "Grown enough, hm? I will be the judge of that."

You whine at the harsh grip Oberyn has on your waist. He looks down at you, taking inventory of your features. Even going as far to spin you, wanting to look at you from all sides.

"Cute." The Prince marks nonchalantly. "But young." He says with a shrug. His hands fall from your sides as he takes a step back. "Come back to me in …two sun cycles. Then we shall see."

Recovering from having his hands on you, you slowly process what Oberyn said, "Two years?"

"Yes. Do you take issue with that?" He asks, returning to his bowl of fruits and throwing a raspberry in his mouth.

"I may be married in two years, Prince Oberyn. Do you not wish to take what is not already claimed?" You attempt to reason with him.

He smirks, "Certainly there will be enough room in your marriage bed for a third."

You pout at his assertion.

"Oh, do not pout Little Viper. I will still flirt with you." His deep brown eyes flick up to catch yours, "Dance with you…if you wish. But no more."

"My Prince…do most men not seek young partners? Why is it you turn me away?"

Oberyn muses the question for a moment, an eyebrow raised as he ponders. It was true, most men sought young brides and young men to take to their beds. Youth was priceless. A nonrenewable resource. But for Oberyn, he was always a bit greedy when it came to lovers. He cared not for young adults still struggling to fill out their frames. He wanted their entirety. The best of them. All of them there ever would be. Chests filled out, shoulders wide, faces matured. He wanted them at their best.

"Allow me to show you, Little Viper." The Prince offers you his hand.

You put your hand in his, allowing him to lead you away to the balcony. Together you cross the threshold to the bedroom where he leads you to a large mirror. He stands you before it, taking his place behind you.

"Look at yourself." He runs his hands over your hips. "I wish to see how you grow. You are a pretty rose…but not yet in bloom." He nips at your neck. "Here…" Oberyn's nose runs along your cheek, "your cheeks are still round with youth." A large hand runs across your shoulders. "and these are not yet at their full width." His other arm moving lower down your thigh, "Hips are lovely, but not yet at their proper shape yet." His hands retreat down your waist, holding you still for him. "You still have much growing to do." Oberyn comes close to whisper into your ear, " And I never pluck a rose too soon." Finishing his assessment, his eyes wander up to your face. a curious question growing in his throat. "Tell me Little Viper- are you untouched?"

"What consequence is it to you?"

The reflection of his face in the mirror goes serious. "Because. If I were to bend you over that table, and force my way into your walls the way you tempt me to. It would be a most unpleasant experience for one so pure." A pleased smile returns to his face at the way you hold your breath. "The price would be yours to pay, Little Viper. Thankfully for you, I consider myself a most merciful prince." He grounds his bulge into your behind, a low moan escaping him as he does. "Now. Return to the nest in which you came, Little Viper." He pushes you off with a firm snack on the ass, making you jolt.

You sciddle off shyly accepting his rejection. Perhaps you had been in a bit over your head. As you turn the corner off the balcony, you look behind you to see him watching you. Feeling a bit brave you call back to him, "In two sun cycles I will return!"

He smiles back at you, "I eagerly await your return, Little Viper!"

[soulkeeper801]

Unfulfilled - Huh Yunjin

Yunjin x f!reader

Angst

Words: 0.8k

"I'm in love with you," you said in a trembling whisper, "you're just too stubborn to see it."

"I can't love you," she replied, a tear rolling down her cheek, "not now."

The weight of her words hung in the air, a heavy cloud of sorrow and regret. The tear that trailed down her cheek mirrored the ache in your chest. You had bared your soul, only to be met with a heartbreaking reality. It wasn't a rejection born out of indifference, but rather, a tragic circumstance that seemed to cast a shadow over any possibility of love.

"What do you mean, 'not now'?" you implored, your voice a mixture of confusion and desperation. The room felt colder, the atmosphere more oppressive as you waited for an explanation that could make sense of the turmoil in your heart.

Yunjin took a deep breath, as if summoning the strength to reveal a painful truth. "There are things going on in my life, things I can't burden you with. The group, the tours, the practices. I'm not in a place to give you the love you deserve, and it wouldn't be fair to either of us."

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. The realization that circumstances beyond your control were the barrier between the love you felt and the love she couldn't give left you feeling helpless. You wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but the invisible walls she had erected seemed insurmountable.

"I wish it could be different," she continued, her voice now barely above a whisper. "Timing is everything, and right now, the timing isn't in our favor."

A bitter understanding settled in, mingling with the pain in your chest. It wasn't a matter of choice but a cruel twist of fate that kept love just out of reach. The room, once filled with the promise of shared emotions, now echoed with the silence of unfulfilled longing.

"I don't want to lose you," she confessed, her voice breaking the silence. Her eyes, soft pools of uncertainty, locked onto yours, pleading for understanding.

"And I don't want to lose you either," you replied, your voice edged with a mix of determination and desperation. The connection between you felt fragile, and you clung to the hope that your shared emotions could overcome the obstacles in your path.

"But I can't ask you to wait for something uncertain," she continued, a furrow forming on her brow as she struggled to convey the depth of her internal conflict.

"Uncertain or not, I'm willing to wait," you asserted, your heart pounding against the walls of your chest. The room seemed to close in, suffocating the air between you as the weight of the conversation intensified.

She reached out, her fingers grazing yours in a bittersweet caress. "You deserve more than that," she insisted, her touch a painful reminder of the intimacy you craved but couldn't fully embrace.

"I deserve a chance with you," you countered, the ache in your chest translating into a defiant resolve. The echo of unfulfilled love reverberated in the space between your words, each syllable a plea for a future that seemed elusive.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she withdrew her hand, the physical distance emphasizing the emotional gap that loomed between you. "I wish it were that simple," she admitted, her gaze dropping to the floor as if unable to meet the intensity of your conviction.

"It doesn't have to be complicated," you urged, desperation seeping into your tone. "We can face whatever comes together."

She hesitated, caught in the struggle between her desire for you and the harsh reality she couldn't escape. "I don't want to be the reason you risk everything you've worked for," she confessed, her vulnerability laid bare. "You deserve the chance to chase your own dreams."

As the truth of her words sank in, you felt a surge of conflicting emotions. A part of you wanted to fight against the circumstances, to defy the odds and claim the love you believed was worth waiting for. Yet, another part acknowledged the wisdom in her words, recognizing that sometimes love alone couldn't conquer the complexities of life.

She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and you couldn't help but lean into the touch, craving her warmth even in the face of heartbreak.

"Promise me you'll be happy," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

"I can't promise that," you replied honestly, a tear escaping your eye. "But I can promise that a piece of my heart will always belong to you."

With that, she stepped away, leaving you standing in the wreckage of a broken heart. The echoes of her footsteps faded, leaving you alone with the weight of unspoken words and the ache of a love that, for now, remained suspended in the realm of what could have been.

[b1ackoutartist]

Secret Parentage pt. 3

I was bored on the drive home so I decided to do a part 3

natasha x reader

kate x yelena

Chapter 3: A New Beginning, A Fragile Hope

Y/N sighed, a mix of skepticism and hope in her eyes, as she murmured almost inaudibly, "We'll see about that."

Natasha glanced back, her expression briefly faltering at Y/N's comment, revealing a glimpse of the vulnerability she usually kept so well hidden. The weight of Y/N's guarded trust pressed heavily on her, a reminder of the long road ahead.

As they arrived at Y/N's place, Natasha was quick to help. She carefully lifted the car seat with Elena still nestled inside and gathered Y/N's belongings, allowing Y/N to lead the way up the stairs to her apartment. Natasha's usual smooth, confident stride was replaced with a cautious tread, her every move calculated to ensure the baby's comfort.

As they ascended, Natasha began to speak, her voice a mix of concern and barely-contained excitement. "If you need anything for yourself or Elena, just let me know. I can go out and get it, no problem. Diapers, formula, anything at all." She paused, adding, "Or even just some fresh air. I'm here to help, Y/N."

Y/N, however, seemed unimpressed, rolling her eyes at Natasha's offer and continuing her walk in silence. Natasha, undeterred, followed closely behind, her eyes never leaving the baby.

Once they reached the apartment, Natasha hesitated at the door, the question on the tip of her tongue. "Do you...do you want me to stay the night? I can sleep on the couch, of course. Just in case Elena wakes up, I can help."

At this, Y/N stopped abruptly, turning to face Natasha with a cold, distant look in her eyes. "No," she said flatly, the single word cutting through the air like a knife. Without another word, she continued into the apartment, leaving Natasha standing in the doorway.

Taking the car seat from Natasha, Y/N placed it gently on the table and carefully lifted Elena out, holding her close to her chest. Natasha, now inside the apartment, looked around awkwardly, the silence between them growing heavier by the second.

"I'm just trying to help, Y/N," Natasha finally said, her voice low and earnest. She was trying to bridge the gap between them, but the space felt insurmountable.

Y/N's response was clipped, a sharp edge to her words. "That's nice, but I'm good without your help."

As Y/N muttered something under her breath about probably having to get used to managing alone sooner or later, Natasha pretended not to hear it. But the words stung, burrowing deep into her heart. She had hoped for a chance to prove herself, to show that she was more than her past mistakes. Yet, here she was, feeling like an outsider in her own child's life.

This was going to be harder than Natasha had thought. The realization settled in, a heavy, unwelcome guest. She knew the journey to earn Y/N's trust and to be a part of Elena's life wouldn't be easy, but the reality of it was far more challenging than she had anticipated.

Natasha's gaze lingered on Y/N and Elena, a picture of tenderness and strength. She yearned to be a part of that picture, to contribute to the warmth and security that enveloped them. But for now, she was on the outside, looking in, her heart aching with a mix of love and regret.

The room was filled with a quiet tension, a silent battle of wills and emotions. Natasha, despite her best efforts, felt like she was walking on thin ice, each word and action meticulously weighed for fear of causing further rifts.

As Y/N continued to care for Elena, Natasha's mind raced with thoughts and plans, each more desperate than the last to find a way into their lives. But as she watched the mother and daughter, a deep understanding settled within her. This wasn't about grand gestures or proving herself in a single moment. It was about patience, consistency, and the slow, steady building of trust.

With a heavy heart, Natasha took a step back, both physically and metaphorically. She knew she needed to give Y/N space, to respect her boundaries, and to be there when Y/N was ready to let her in. It was a difficult pill to swallow.

Natasha bit her lip, a gesture of uncertainty, before she made her way over to Y/N. She was acutely aware of the tension in the air, the invisible barrier that Y/N had erected between them. As she approached, Natasha noticed Y/N's subtle but definite tensing, a silent but clear indication of her discomfort. The ache in Natasha's heart grew, but she tried to push it aside, focusing instead on the reason she was there.

Standing a respectful distance away, Natasha looked down at her newborn daughter, her eyes softening with an emotion so deep and pure. "Goodbye, little one," she whispered, her voice filled with a tenderness that was reserved only for Elena. Her gaze then shifted to Y/N, and she offered a quiet, "Bye, Y/N," her voice barely more than a murmur.

Y/N offered nothing more than a nod in response, her expression guarded, her eyes revealing a storm of emotions she wasn't ready to share.

With a heavy heart, Natasha turned and left the apartment, the sound of the door closing echoing in the silent hallway. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The reality of the situation was hitting her harder than she had anticipated. Natasha needed to talk, to vent, to seek advice, and despite her frustration, there were only two people she could turn to - Yelena and Kate. They were the only ones who knew the whole story, the only ones who could possibly understand the tumultuous emotions she was grappling with.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

okay that´s it byee:)

[animebw]

You know what? Fuck it. I'm calling it now.

The final season of Hibike Euphonium will have Reina get over her crush on Taki.

As I talked about extensively in my Hibike re-watch a while back, Reina's defining character trait is her desire to be more mature than she actually is. She wants to be a cool, confident in-control ice queen who shows her immature classmates up, when in reality she's just as immature as them. And her crush on Taki-sensei is the biggest manifestation of that, possibly the reason she has that complex in the first place; she's painfully aware of the distance between them and wants to become an adult as fast as possible so she can be on even footing with him. But try as she might, she is still just a teenage girl, and the show is constantly reminding her- and us- just how insurmountable the gap between her and an actual adult is. Never mind the fact that Taki himself would never even dream of laying hands on her, because being an actual well-adjusted adult, he knows how to keep healthy boundaries between himself and the children under his care. Even after Reina does turn 18, that part of their relationship will remain the same.

So the fact that the first episode of season 3 takes time to remind us of Reina's big declaration from season 1- "I don't just like him, I love him"- tells me they're setting up to do something with this. Especially Kumiko's reaction; when Reina first said that in season 1, she was caught really off guard and didn't know how to process it. Now, though, you can tell by her reaction that she doesn't really take Reina seriously. She teases her! She kinda makes fun of her! She's known Reina long enough to understand that Reina's nowhere near as ready to start a relationship with Taki as she pretends to be, and I think she knows on some level that Reina understands that as well. She can put up as much of a front as she wants, but just like Reina helped pull Kumiko's mask off in their first year, Kumiko can see right through hers. When she hears Reina talk about her feelings toward Taki now, she sees them for what they really are: something that they both know, in the end, has no chance of ever coming to pass.

And that is all absolutely going to come to a head once Kitauji finally takes gold at Nationals- which I assume they will, given they haven't before and that would be a perfect capstone on Kumiko's journey (but we'll see!) Once Reina accomplishes her goal of making Taki's wish come true, she'll have nothing left to hide her feelings behind. One way or another, they're going to be left in the open- and either she'll have grown enough to let them go herself, or she'll finally tell Taki and he'll turn her down at last. Either way, the book is going to close on this chapter of her life, and the end of her adolescence will bring about the end of this very adolescent crush. Don't believe me? Bookmark this post and come back in three months to see how right I am.

[eyedoeluhn]

the portrayal of Aisha in BCF is, to say it concisely, awful. It’s not a surprise, BCF is (in my opinion) a terrible fic, but it manages to, at this point in the plot (108.1) managed to make every character it seems end up in a far worse position than where they normally would’ve been in canon. Which goes the same for Aisha, who is part of our main character’s, Joe’s, squad.

Before she’s folded into Joe’s team she’s a sexually aggressive ‘fast’ girl who harasses Joe by flirting with him and following him around the Laborn’s gym which he frequents.

Apparently her favorite hobby is this because it’s basically all we get about her from the other people at the gym too!

thanks Joe I really loved reading that. It’s my favorite part between the bits where the gym guys console poor baby you about how they’re so sympathetic about you being harassed by a child. This isn’t even my specific point I just wanted to mention this is how they meet. Anyways, after this Aisha triggers and having worked out Joe is a cape, follows him to his workshop. Through CF shit he makes a focus that boosts and allows her control of her power and makes a workaround for him, and she’s now ‘part of the team.’ Her welcoming ceremony is his sentient fashion thing dragging her away to dress her ‘properly’. Don’t worry, she dresses modestly and tastefully with Joe’s guidance!

now as a member of his team Joe does not treat Aisha like the child she is. Not in a ‘you can do work’ way, he speaks to her as if she was a fully emotionally mature and stable woman. This includes sharing his problems with her, all the time. Aisha admits to herself that as the team takes form shes been shoehorned into becoming the emotional cornerstone as the only ‘normal’ human. The fact that she is 13 years old and is explicitly shown to have not aged during time dilation and only ‘matured’ nebulously and experienced most of her time within the workshop makes it worse. She’s also too mature to date a boy her age by word of god apparently.

Why is this guy in his 20s going to a 13 year old about his problems? In her interlude she even directly states she’s using skills she used to deal with her mothers abusive boyfriends to handle Joe.

this is just like, actually sad. Why is the 13 year old the one in charge of managing this adult man who has a licensed therapist’s mental health. Joe does not find this concerning or does not enough to take any measures to stop Aisha from feeling responsible for him or attempting to administer care. When Joe is having a difficult (for him) call with his family who he is estranged from due to his trigger event and traumas involving them, Aisha is the person to check in on him

Naturally Joe’s first and really only concern about this is that Aisha is annoying him by prying. There’s really no attempt from Joe to do anything but occasionally shield her from physical harm. He constantly discusses his issues with her and leans on her emotionally while only really gifting her items. Which is where most BCF fans cry, but she’s getting all that cool tinkertech and personal teaching! I don’t think this terrible relationship should be tolerated just because she’s managed to get some fun stuff. Joe shouldn’t be bribing a child to give him reassurance. This is frankly exacerbated by the giant, insurmountable power gap between them which goes beyond an age difference. Joe is perfectly capable of constantly surveilling Aisha, seriously harming her, altering her mental state (arguably he’s done this before) and a myriad of awful things that Aisha just has to take on his word that he would do. It’s less funny when he jokes about putting nano machines in her to keep her from doing things he doesn’t want her to do when he could at any time.

It’s not a parental relationship, it’s not a mentor mentee, at best it’s a toxic codependency where Aisha is not treated her age and really any positives to this are because the author wants Joe to seem sympathetic despite everything. for Aisha, honestly, this is extremely fucked up

why are you like this, BCF.

[kamilah-is-queen]

Sub Kamilah - Pt II.

Author’s Note: Hey everybody! I know I’ve taken a HUGE gap from writing fics/answering requests and being a part of the Kamilah fandom and so I’d like to extend my deepest apologies. I’m not going to give excuses, but the good news is I’ll be posting way more often than I did a few years ago. I hope the Kamilah fan base hasn’t dwindled too much, we’ve got to stick together and keep up the content!

P.S. What better way to get back into the hang of writing than with a highly sought after part 2 of g!p Kamilah. It’s VERY VERY SMUTTY, and there is no cut… so be warned!

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Amy Parker)

Warning: HOT HOT HOT SMUT!

Tags: @ta-sayeed, @kamilahtopme, @nydeiri, @rhonda-sayeed, @helpconfusedpersonhere, @millasayeed, @vonda-be-real, @livvynka, @queenkamilah, @leenasayeed, @skylarkxxyy, @choicesgrp, @ilove-kamilah-sayeed, @justavampirefan, @iamsimpforpoppy, @friendlybuddy

(Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list or have a fic request :)

Did you really think night one was over that fast? Ha, foolish mortal, this couple is far more vigorous and desire driven than you realize.

I still inside Amy, humming deeply into her back as I unloaded my seed deep inside her womb, my arms entangled around her body as she groaned into the silky pillows.

Her body revealed what her words couldn’t, the pleasure insurmountable and overwhelming as her body shuddered with each drop of cum I filled her with.

When I finished, I gripped her love handle and slowly pulled out, a soft squelch sound as cum flooded out of her wet folds, her folds visibly throbbing at the lack of attention.

She turned her head to gaze at me with her infamous doe eyes, silently pleading for more. To be manhandled and thrown around like a rag doll, fucked and breeded like a dog in heat, mercilessly.

That’s what her true desires were, her eyes, the key to that secret, spilling away all its treasures.

“Please…” Her voice raspy and high pitched, “more Kamilah. I need you, I want you all night long. I don’t want you to leave my pussy for a second, not even if it’s gaping wide and overflowing with your cum my love. Make love to me all night, and into the morning.”

I nuzzled the crook of her shoulder, effortlessly flipping her onto her back, my pupils blown as I gazed into her enchanting orbs. “Is that an order, or a request?” I playfully teased, grinning in my signature fashion that left her breathless.

Her arms looped around the back of my neck, not before she began stroking my tip against her clit. “An order of the highest rank, from your sovereign. Don’t upset me my warrior, not on our first night as married couple together.”

She inhaled sharply as I pushed into her, her hand guiding me in slowly as it was my turn to exhale deeply. “You’re such a bossy boo, you know that?” Winking, I began rolling my hips into a steady rhythm, my 11 inches spreading her already cum soaked walls further.

With a cheeky grin, she replied. “This is what you signed up for, no receipts accept-“

I pushed my complete length into her, my tip edging her cervix open as she cried out my name into the crisp Egyptian night. “Shhh, let me love you now. Let us make our family together.”

She gripped onto my shoulders for life, nodding rapidly and groaning as I began to pound, deep and relentlessly. “Oh my goddd, yessss…”

I could feel the tension between us mounting, almost at the breaking point as time seemed to slow and we began to quicken.

Her nails ripped deep cuts into my back, her cries of my name echoing throughout our villa and into the night sky full of pure pleasure and bliss.

“Amy, Amy I can’t hold on much longer…” My breaths were heavy as I howled in the pleasure/pain of her passionate grip, refusing to let me go or let there be any room for space between us.

My back arched as the cuts opened, a faint trickle of blood running down my back as I fucked Amy faster and faster and harder and deeper and whatever words can describe this moment of utter love.

It was too much. Her warm folds squeezed my cock without mercy, persistently throbbing, pleading for more cum. Her squeals and screams of my name echoing through my ear, her fingers clinging deep into my muscles…

It awakened an animal inside.

My eyes peaked blood red, my body taking control of itself, overriding my self control. Our bodies, our hips were clashing together in a bruising force, the slapping of our skins echoing for miles.

I saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing, except red. The warm, thick, succulent red blood that was pumping frantically inside her veins, the adrenaline flowing through the liquid honey, her fear and excitement coursing throughout her body as she too, became overstimulated.

Before she could blink, my fangs sank deep into her neck, piercing the jugular vein, my hot mouth already prepared for the warm ooze that would follow.

That’s when I heard the scream.

The gut wrenching, ear piercing, stomach twisting scream Amy’s body forced out, a scream of utter overexcitement, overexertion and overstimulation.

“KAMILAHHHHHH!!!!!!”

Her body thrashed in all directions, desperate to be relieved of the stimulation. Her body innately forced me away as she panicked, unable to breathe or think properly.

Her cum squirted everywhere, and when I say everywhere, I’m not lying. She soaked my legs and abs, the bedsheets and floor, even managing to spray the glass sliding doors too.

She couldn’t handle me anymore, her body was resisting in sheer pleasure at it all, yet I couldn’t stop. I tried to, the voice in my head screaming to stop and make sure she’s alright. But… I couldn’t. I wasn’t in control of myself anymore, I had unlocked the deepest and most darkest box of desires stored within, and I was certainly too high on its path to go back.

[possibilistfanfiction]

Solid

[nowhere near done in any way that will eventually go into smth longer lol but a little florist/tattooist au softness in celebration of three (3)! movies :) ]

//

'will you tell me about it?' ava asks, then runs a finger, feather light, along your arm. 'your garden?'

you hum, roll over a little so you can see her better in the moonlight. the willamette is calm out the window, even during the storm, glinting with the lights of the city, the bridge, the hush of february snow. it's warm, underneath your covers in maybe the first real home you've ever had — or, at least, the first you've made for yourself.

it's heavy, the insurmountable grief that sits, even among the flowers, ava's gentle fingers, her forever broken spine: parents who didn't love you, even though they should have; parents who couldn't love you, even though they wanted to. but here it is, the quiet, the hum of a different kind of wanting. and so you tell her: the doubled-flowering chrysanthemum; the lotus and the plum blossom and tallow. field maple and wood anemone; the silver y moth and rose chafer. a water deer above your elbow, a hawk's wing along the jut of your wrist. to fill in gaps, just as you do now, hands in soil: yarrow, goldenrod, milkweed.

ava listens with wide, attentive eyes and the softest smile, encouraging you when your voice gets caught in your chest when you tell her about the asters in switzerland, or the way your brother used to press tender ferns between pages of his favorite mystery novels for you to find when you read them after him, and your grandmother's jasmine, steeped carefully into tea she swore could cure any ailment. you finish, let ava still at the space left blank on the underside of your wrist — two tethered marrowbones and countless others floating; the blue of your veins a lie — red, if you were to investigate under your skin — or a breath, anyway. and she waits, lungs easy, the wind howling outside and the bed warm, ava's palm solid against the ink.

'don't laugh—'

'—me? i would never—'

'i want a honeybee, to finish everything.'

there's fond mirth in her smile, but none of it cruel. 'i love that.'

it sounds a lot like something else, sounds a lot like i love you, and it sits at the tip of your tongue but you are not yet brave. instead: 'one day, will you do it for me?'

she lifts your wrist and kisses there, a promise of many, many things: years stretching before you; trips to the gorge; the break of the waves on the coast in the spring. 'i would be really honored.'

it's overwhelming, to be seen, so you tuck yourself into the crook of her neck and she brings her arms around you, allows you this cave where nothing can touch you — your thin ribcages strong and whole, jaws that never clench in fear, the warm salt of tears a footnote, a blessing.

[paper--moons]

CG!Kurogiri Headcanons

(with multiple regressors)

After the war, there were many, many things that needed to be fixed and sorted. Societal structures concerning crime, justice, and people. Once the dust settles from the second war that already near-insurmountable list of things somehow only managed to increase. And Kurogiri—Oboro?—just so happened to be one of those things that needed sorting out. All of the villains fall onto the list technically, but he's...a special case. A special case that is infinitely complicated thanks to the fact that Oboro has finally been "reawakened", leading to the two personas within him to begin to merge into something new. Not only is the change metaphysical, but it is becomes exceedingly apparent that it's a physical one as well—the omnipresent smoke surrounding his body finally begins to recede, at first only in patches but soon enough there is no denying who is under all that mist once it becomes more controllable. Which is exactly where the issue comes in in regards to his innocence, and more specifically what should be done about him. Or with any of the villains for that matter. Locking them away in Tartarus obviously didn't work (not that the place is even remotely functional anymore), and the people demand a system reform, so what does that leave? Why, a shiny new villain rehabilitation program! A program that Kurogiri qualifies for no problem, and a program that really allows him to try and figure out who he is now. Bridging the gap between Kurogiri and Oboro is both harder and easier than he expects, but finding common ground helps. One of the strongest things that seems to be a constant between the two? His ability and desire to care for others! That caregiving instinct wasn't something that AFO and the doctor could drive out of him, and instead actively used once it became apparent that it wasn't going away. So once he reaches a certain milestone in his rehabilitation program and is cleared for it, he starts acting as a cg again!

The decision isn't one without its own challenges, no matter how eager he is to regain some sense of agency over his interpersonal relationships. Primarily because that caregiving instinct is pulling him in a couple different directions. But as Tomura is still undergoing rehabilitation (and medical treatment, due to what his body went through during the war), one direction starts to pull more strongly given that it is both more readily available and encouraged by several outside sources (namely his therapists and the newly restructured Hero Commission). That direction of course being Shouta. And it isn't as if he hasn't been spending time with him; he's been by his side for all of this, even before he started remembering things. There's a lot of discussion beforehand that sees to Shouta middlespacing by the end of it, but it's decided that they both would like to try sharing that space with one another again and that it would be beneficial for both of them. In the safety and seclusion of Shouta and Hizashi's apartment, it's all too easy to slip back into habits thought long forgotten. And as Shouta clings to him, he can't help but feel he's regained another part of himself as he strokes a hand through coarse black curls. During this Hizashi acts as a mediator of sorts just to keep everybody safe and happy, but it doesn't take Oboro more than a moment to piece together that he must have stepped in to fulfill that cg role for Shouta after his "accident". Something is a little off though, something he can't quite place yet, about the way Hizashi can so easily get on Shouta's level in a way that he himself cannot. But it's sweet to watch how easily Hizashi can take his hand and lead him towards the kitchen with an excited if not somewhat conspiratorial whisper that earns him a soft giggle and a nod, and so Oboro doesn't question it too hard (nor does he mind giving them a headstart on whatever trouble they're up to).

It takes far longer than he would like, but after several months Kurogiri is finally given the opportunity to reconnect with Tomura. He has received updates on his recovery, sure, but Tomura wasn't allowed contact with anyone other than his doctors. After everything AFO has put him through mentally and physically, the poor boy is left feeling raw and wrung-out. These feelings in turn lend to Tomura spending a lot of time regressed more often than not, occupying a sleepy babyspace. And the only thing he really wants now that everything is all said and done is his papa. It's more than enough to tug at Kurogiri's heartstrings, and it's also more than enough to spurn him into asking for something out of pure self interest. Because he wants to help. Making such requests is still something he is trying to be more proactive about as part of his own ongoing recovery, and he wants more than anything to be a part of Tomura's recovery too. And once all the legal red tape is out of the way, he's approved for visiting hours! Much like how one might go visit a kitten at a shelter that they are planning to adopt once it is old enough, Kurogiri gets to visit Tomura periodically until he can be cleared to come home—because with help from Hizashi and Shouta, Kurogiri has been working on making a space that Tomura can call home. And every time he visits he makes sure to bring Tomura a small treat, taking note of anything that the boy seems to really like and cross-referencing it with the small list he used to keep when it was his purpose to mind after him, not his choice. He finds there are things he's adding to that list now that it is his choice, things that were filtered out before for being "unnecessary"—things like stuffies when he notices how Tomura tends to hug onto a throw pillow, or pacis when he sees that he still sucks on his sleeve when he's nervous. Which he seems to be doing a lot of, though understandably. His papa looks a bit different than he remembers, after all! Is more open with his emotions, too. But Kurogiri is sure to reassure him that while some things have changed, the fact that he cares deeply for him is something that has not and never will change.

To continue with the kitten analogy, once Tomura does get to come home there are some challenges. Challenges that primarily take the form of "let the kittens sniff each other through the door so they can get used to each other". Even Oboro knows it won't go perfectly smoothly, though that recovered optimism of his is hopeful. And it isn't as if Shouta hadn't had time to get used to the idea—he and Hizashi both had went with Kurogiri to visit Tomura a couple of times even!—but it's different once it's happening. They both know that Tomura wouldn't do anything to hurt them now. But suddenly he feels like maybe it's asking too much of Kurogiri, and he thinks him and Zashi have been fine on their own for a really long time now and, and... And it only takes the one occurrence of him and Tomura being regressed at the same time for any worries like that to be forgotten. Oboro doesn't play favorites and makes that abundantly clear from the start. If one gets something, then so does the other. It helps that both boys seem to fall within the same regression range as well. Their first "sniffing each other through the door" regression session consisting of getting them both comfortable on a cozy blanket pallet in front of the TV and putting on some baby sensory videos for them to doze off to, bottles of chocolate milk and vanilla milk given to the correct baby (because Oboro has his little ones' personal preferences down pat!). Hizashi even helps make sure things go well, which means the world to Oboro. He brings Tomura his stuffed bunny before settling down next to Shouta, sitting criss-cross applesauce as he hands him his Chococat and pulls him into his lap for a hug—an act that Oboro finds endearing of not a little overprotective.

Although this brings us to the fact that there is one little piece of the puzzle that Kurogiri really, really should have connected sooner. And that is that he doesn't have two babies on his hands, but three. As it turns out, Hizashi was filling a cg role for Shouta like he had thought—on occasion, that is, when Nemuri wasn't available. Other times however, he was filling the role of playmate! While Oboro is a bit hurt that Hizashi would keep that from him for as long as he did, he can understand why. Regressing wasn't something Hizashi did before, and it was something he was trying to do less of after they lost Nemuri (at his own detriment). Plus it wasn't as if he was hiding it totally! In hindsight he realizes Hizashi had been middlespacing a lot as if to test the waters. He was good at getting on Shouta's level (and later Tomura's) because he was close to it himself! Oboro can see now that he's been playing the part of his little helper more than that of his fellow cg. Though Hizashi is the master of maintaining a persona, even he can't always hide those little slips. Everything clicks into place during one such little slip when they are having playtime that he notices the blonde's fidgety fingers, the longing look he is giving to the blocks the other two are playing with, the way he chews at his bottom lip as if to distract himself from wanting more than he thinks he deserves. And Kurogiri can relate to that feeling of wanting more but needing permission. Tentatively he finds himself ruffling Hizashi's hair, afraid he might be making a mistake with the way he tenses up but pushing forward regardless. Low voice quietly telling him Go on, why don't you play too? I think they would like that. It's okay, you know. Those words being all the encouragement Hizashi truly needed to let go, to go somewhere decidedly smaller. And Oboro takes in all the subtle and not-so-subtle changes, like the way his words run together and the way he bounces in place. Falling in that toddlerspace range means he's a lot more high energy than Tomura or Shouta, but Kurogiri knows he can handle it.

Three babies spells trouble for poor, poor Oboro however. Not that they always regress at the same time (though it turns out it's rare that Hizashi and Shouta don't regress at the same time), but when they do? Trouble. So much trouble. It's the Hizashi factor. Because Tomura and Shouta? Sleepy babies 85% of the time, no troublemaking there. It's when Hizashi gets thrown into the mix that great incidents of baby mischief occur. Shouta is always eager to follow his lead, and it's only too easy to get Tomura swept up in their infectious chaos. Really, it's hard for Oboro not to get caught up too...until he remembers that he's the adult here and that they probably really shouldn't be cramming Hizashi full of crayons. Kurogiri can only watch in a horror-filled fascination for several seconds while Hizashi devours the crayons paper wrapper and all as he gives his review of the flavor (much to the amusement of the other two) before his brain catches back up to him, but the short timespan is enough for several more crayons to disappear. Razzle Dazzle Rose and Screamin' Green being the latest two additions to Hizashi's stomach, the former apparently being "way more nummy". Tomura is already handing him another to try (Robin Egg Blue, this time) and Shouta is shoving the box of 120 (more like 100) crayons under his shirt by the time Kurogiri is crouched beside them with a handkerchief and the gentle instruction to spit it out, please. All that earns him is a stubborn little boy shaking his head no, his attempts to convince him only causing him to chew faster and swallow the colorful wax anyways. He is (rightfully) appalled when he then proceeds to stick his tongue out and scramble away with a laugh. It takes little convincing to get Shouta to give him the box so he can count just how many crayons are missing, as the four fingers Tomura held up at his question seem unlikely. Given that he counts a remaining 89 crayons, the resulting belly ache is no surprise, nor is the rainbow barf that colors the living room floor. The day ends with a trip to Recovery Girl's office that no one is particularly proud of, but mistakes are only human (and no longer a punishable offense for poor Kurogiri).

While there may be more bumps in the road that may or may not involve eating crayons, returning to caregiving and finding his footing there only leads to Oboro putting more of his life back together and moving forward the best he can. He is still navigating the harsh reality of what happened to him while building those vital relationships that remind him why everything will be okay, that he isn't alone in the dark any longer. Nor does he ever have to be again, the gentle warmth of living seeping into the spaces all around him in his new life. Taking the form of the delicate scents that waft up while he folds Tomura's softest onesies that smell like the Dreft they were washed in. Or of the way Shouta's cat knows just when to rub up against his leg with a purr when he needs a bit of grounding in reality. Or of the Legos that Hizashi has left scattered across the coffee table that cover up some paperwork for his radio show. All of these things makes his life feel comfortably lived in for the first time in a long time, rather than the constant, cold distance and apathy he was forced to maintain. His heart can finally breathe again and seek the connections that bring him so much comfort. Though he has lost much he has also gained plenty, and while it isn't easy he wouldn't change his circumstances. There are still a lot of things Kurogiri is working on of course, but at least he can say he is working on them with those that he cares about most in this world.

[telomeke-bbs]

On my third re-watch of Bad Buddy, I've been doing a bit more reading of the comments on YouTube, which I presume will disappear if the series is removed now that it's going to Viki.

I notice from the YouTube comments at least some people think PatPran were having sex at least as early as episode 8, while I took the start of their sex life as episode 11 which was when they made it clear.

Given the lack of R scenes in the series (no complaints, if it's a great series I'm happy either way) it's hard to say for sure. I tend to be on the literal side so need more direct indications that a sex scene is about to occur or has just occurred. I'm wondering where the clues might be that others are tuning into and I've missed.

If you've already written about this please feel free to link.

SEX??? IN MY BBS???!!! 👀

Hi dear friend @pandasmagorica! 😍 You're so right that Bad Buddy doesn't show us any of PatPran's lovemaking directly, and like you I didn't miss it at all…

But before I go any further, I should insert a trigger warning here for the sex-averse among anybody else who might be reading this – sex talk incoming! (I'll be avoiding some of the coarser language as that's not my style, but I will be mentioning some details of man-on-man sex if I have to…) So minors please stay away!

‌

Like so much of BBS (e.g., the actual relationship between Ming and Dissaya in high school, Ming's relationship with his father, Pat's descent into his gangster era after his high school rupture with Pran, the foundations of Wai and Pran's friendship), Pat and Pran having sex is one aspect of their relationship that was alluded to but not shown to us graphically onscreen.

For me this was in keeping with the narrative style of Bad Buddy as a whole (in which we the viewers had to fill in some gaps ourselves), as well as its preference to focus on the emotional dynamics of their love story, rather than showing us every physical manifestation of their liaison.

On my initial watch I too thought that PatPran's first physical coupling only happened in Ep.11, during their honeymoon at the Zero Waste Village. I settled into this conclusion primarily because we weren't shown any overt depiction of the boys hooking up physically – and also because of one moment at Ep.9 [3‌/4]:

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.9 [3‌/4] 5.38 – Pat and Pran chorus "Not yet" at Korn, when asked if they'd been having sex

When Korn is made to wait before being admitted into Pran's apartment by a nearly-naked Pat – only to see a disheveled Pran in bed, and the bedclothes all awry – he assumes (at Ep.9 [3‌/4] 5.36) that Pat and Pran's sexy time was the reason for the delay. But his assumption is met with an indignant "Not yet" chorused by both Pat and Pran in unison, and this to me (at the time of my first watch) was telegraphing the message that the boys were resolutely putting off sex until they were both ready for it later.

But there's really nothing to suggest why they should be doing this (other than maybe Pran getting a case of the ick whenever Pat gets too sappily romantic and/or touchy-feely – understandable, and certainly not insurmountable for one so much in love).

And for me this view of a sexless, virginal Pat and Pran pre-Ep.11 didn't gel with the other details that became apparent on subsequent re-watches. It's possible the "yang" that Pat and Pran chorused (at Ep.9 [3‌/4] 5.38) may have an affective sense of negation that is somewhat different from the plain "no" or "not yet" suggested by the subtitles (though I haven't been able to find any confirmation of it online). But anyway I now think that they were just telling Korn that he'd caught them right before the main event (which is supported by Korn's embarrassment, and also Pat saying he wouldn't mind being late for dinner with the guys if he could just get a "reward" from Pran, at Ep.9 [3‌/4] 4.11 and 4.27). 😂

There are also some other clues pointing to the likelihood that Pat and Pran were not waiting to indulge in the physical side of their love, well before the clearly pre- and post-coital scenes that we see onscreen later in Episodes 11 and 12.

The Sexual Tension: From early on Pat and Pran had a track record of getting right up in each other's personal space, in tableaux of their own making absolutely saturated with sexual tension. These two, but especially Pat, demonstrated time and again that not only were they comfortable getting physically close to each other, there seemed to be an unspoken need to do so as well.

Pran deep in his crush was fighting it all the way (witness him pushing Pat away all the time), while Pat's motivations were a bit less clear (and yet he was almost always the one to initiate close encounters of the physical kind).

Some examples of this–

Ep.1 [3‌/4] 1.13 (when they were hiding from Korn, Mo and Chang in the side alley of the faculty Chemical Room):

‌

Ep.2 [1‌/4] 6.23 (in the toilet cubicle, when Pat "forgot" he'd not washed his hands before clamping it on Pran's mouth in some kind of an unconscious sublimation – Pran wasn't making any sound and his mouth was closed, but Pat couldn't help himself anyway 😂):

‌

Ep.2 [4/4] 11.21 (when they both realized, however subconsciously, that their competitive grappling at the apartment viewing had begun to take on strangely erotic overtones – patently obvious to all, even the hapless real estate agent who inadvertently burst in on them):

‌

Ep.4 [4/4] 3.41 (the rugby clinch, leading to Pat's line "If you hug me this tight, you might as well take me as your boyfriend" – sexual and other significance explained here):

‌

And of course Ep.5 [4/4] 11.53 (The Kiss, that literally and figuratively sucked away all oxygen from people on either side of the screen – their yearning, physical hunger for each other was already so evident each time it bubbled to the surface, but of course its explosive climax was when they both admitted it overtly to each other, during this Epic Rooftop Kiss at the end of Ep.5):

‌

BBS actually shows us Pat staying over at Pran's apartment and sharing the one bed in Ep.8 (at Ep.8 [1‌/4] 1.28. Nong Nao's presence in Pran's bed means that Pat must have been there before he got up to make breakfast; at Ep.8 [1‌/4] 5.34 Pat himself confirms that he spends nights at Pran's, "rehearsing" certain aspects of the Kwan and Riam play, in its BL reincarnation).

Given how much sexual tension is on display from early on, it seems only logical to me that there must have been some rumpy-pumpy hanky-panky going on below the waist, even though we don't get to see it onscreen. Indeed, Pa tells us as much with her observation on the morning after another such "rehearsal": 😂

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.8 [1‌/4] 5.46

Nong Nao as Agent of (Sexual) Subterfuge:  In my opinion, another big tell that Pat and Pran were already doin' the deed (or at least going beyond second base) is even earlier, at Ep.7 [2/4] 5.36, when we learn that Pat had left Nong Nao behind in Pran's apartment.

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.10 [1‌/4] 8.53

We know that Pat hugs Nong Nao to fall asleep (he says so at Ep.4 [4/4] 11.30 and Ep.7 [2/4] 5.46). But the reason behind this is that Pat needs Nong Nao – his Linus blanket – to calm his fears when he's psychologically vulnerable, alone with his own thoughts and dreams (analyzed here). It doesn't make sense that he would be carrying Nong Nao around with him outside and away from his own bed, unless it was for sleepy-time comfort – so how did Rotten Little One end up in Pran's apartment?

Pat wouldn't have brought Nong Nao over to Pran's unless he knew he'd be staying the night. For example, we see this when he sneaks over to spend the night with Pran at Ep.12 [3‌/4] 4.37 – though why he'd need to kimono-cloak himself with the bedclothes like that is a little beyond me:

Maybe this is BBS emphasizing Nong Nao's role as Pat's security blanket, swaddling him in protection from his night-time fears? 🤷‍♂️ (Or is Pat naked under those bedcovers? His lust for Pran is so great he doesn't want to waste even the few seconds it would take to strip once he's with his beloved? 🤣)

Anyway, Nong Nao left behind in Pran's apartment suggests that Pat was already sleeping there as early as Ep.7. It could be possible that it was for other reasons, but I refuse to kid myself – we're talking about two young men deep in the heady flush of hormonal (and fully reciprocated) teenage love here. Given their pre-existing propensity for physical closeness (that mirrored their emotional intimacy), I can't imagine Pat and Pran would be keeping their hands off each other in private for long.

So when Pat left Nong Nao behind in Ep.7 (a ploy of course, to get Pran over for more), I really don't think he had been spending time in Pran's apartment just so they could study building construction together… any more than they would be chastely reading scriptures or practicing quilting. 😂

And of course when Pran went over to Pat's apartment to return Nong Nao, the situation soon devolved into a mutual seduction exercise that even referenced the passionate Ep.5 Rooftop Kiss (Pran's "Do you still want us to be friends?" at Ep.7 [2/4] 9.59).

‌On my re-watch, I think the competitive roughhousing we witness in Ep.7 [2/4] is actually Pat and Pran's own version of foreplay prior to actual intercourse – and they most certainly would have gone there had they not been interrupted by Pa and her wayward bladder (hence their guilty looks when she bursts in on them; they definitely had almost been caught in flagrante delicto, which Pat then has to sublimate away with bare-bodied crunches while Pran abandons the food he'd brought – and we know food is also often a stand-in for sex in Thai BL, referenced for example at Ep.12 [2/4] 11.54).

Food and Sex:  Another scene where food was used as a metaphor for sex, that also suggests Pat and Pran had already been gettin' it on well before we see them in the afterglow of their Ep.11 honeymoon passions, took place during their cookout with Junior by the beach (scene starting at Ep.11 [2/4] 2.43):

Laced with lots of meaningful glances between Pat and Pran, the dialogue was peppered with several suggestive lines (mostly from Pat, but also acknowledged with knowing – if rueful – smiles from Pran) hinting at more adult meanings within the word play (all thankfully opaque to young Junior):

"All I do is eat" – the verb "to eat" in Thai (กิน/gin) is also slang for "to consume (someone) sexually";

"…I do many things for my lover too" – suggesting that Pat and Pran were already having sex;

"Like what?"… "Wait until you're older" – Pat shut down Junior's line of questioning, because the subject was unmissably adult (to the adults in the room).

And Junior's innocent comment "You don't have to pound it so hard. Cover it with your hand – it's spattering" also got Pran chuckling silently, because it coincidentally fit with his and Pat's subtextual zingers about their sex life even while all of that hidden discourse was flying above Junior's head (and rightly so too).

Pat also points a cucumber at Pran while admonishing Junior, further upping the innuendo quotient – basically his answer to "Tell me you're talking about sex without telling me you're talking about sex" 😂. (The Thai word for cucumber – แตงกวา/dtaaeng gwaa – is also slang for penis; see this Wiktionary entry linked here: ภาษาปาก, สแลง – อวัยวะเพศชาย.)

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.11 [2/4] 3.49

It could be possible that Pat and Pran had sex the night before, but I think that's highly unlikely given how exhausted they were after their bus journey to the beach. (Plus they were expected to be up early enough to earn their keep helping the fishermen.) I suppose you could read Pat's hijinks at the cookout as him setting the scene for their nuptial relations to come, i.e., that they hadn't done it before but were heading to it now, which was my asexual take on it the first time around watching this. But this doesn't align with what Pat and Pran tell us on the beach later, and I changed my mind on subsequent re-watches. 😉

Beer and "Kisses" on the Rocks:  When Pat and Pran have their heartfelt tête-à-tête on the rocky breakwater at Khao Tao Beach (scene starting at Ep.11 [3‌/4] 9.50), there is a line of questioning that confirms (for me at least) they not only had been intimate before, but that they'd also been alternating their roles in bed.

What they say is perhaps open to some degree of interpretation, but I can't see how it could mean anything else…

When Pat says at Ep.11 [3‌‌/4] 12.50 "Here comes the last question. Can I kiss you?" it seemed straightforward enough at first viewing – another of BBS's nods at consent perhaps, with the boys turning quaintly Victorian about physical contact. But it's discordant with the energies we've seen them display before – at the Chem. Room alleyway, in the toilet cubicle, and on the rooftop in Ep.5. It's true the first two times Pat invaded Pran's personal space because he was trying to save him; and the third time he gave ample notice of his intentions. But the boys had never been coy with each other, so Pat suddenly turning into a bashful knight wordily asking for permission to kiss really makes no sense.

Then, however, Pran's response of "Isn't it my turn?" really puts Pat's question into context, and I think it qualifies as a lightbulb moment that illuminates an aspect of their hitherto mostly hidden sex life.

Yes, it is possible to read Pran's insistence ("No. It's my turn") as the boys simply taking turns at being the first to initiate lip-to-lip action, but even my ever-forgiving fan theorist's brain finds that too contrived an explanation. Plus PatPran's kisses are hardly about energy in one direction only – since each gives as good as he receives (e.g., at Ep.5 [4/4] 11.53 and Ep.11 [3‌/4] 13.27).

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.11 [3‌/4] 13.33 – is it really possible to take turns when doing this?

All this talk about taking turns really makes no sense – unless it's not actually about kisses.

My read is that the word จูบ/juup (whose dictionary definition is to kiss) is really PatPran's codeword for whoever gets to top the other during sex (like the verb baiser in French, which does similar semantic double duty). This also tells us that our two versatile scamps, both alike in dignity, had been alternating roles in bed like two gentlemen Romeos indeed… and trust our pernickety Pran to be keeping a record of who did what the last time! 😂

The fact that they have a working system in place with the rules of engagement already defined (and that Pat is seeking to deviate from) suggests that this isn't something novel that they just came up with in the days before.

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.11 [3‌/4] 14.00 – prelude to a "juup"

And getting graphical in an aside here for a moment – since prostate orgasms are typically far more intense than the other kinds men can experience, what we're also seeing here is Pat and Pran jostling to see who can give the other the gift of greater pleasure (and in doing so deriving a substantial measure of it for themselves too). It's consistent with the competitive drumbeat to which their couplehood thrums and marches, and is also a microcosm of their relationship as a whole – that whenever one of them lets his lover win, he gets to win as well too. 🤩

Anyway, Pran flat-out refuses to give up his turn (Ep.11 [3‌/4] 13.15), and the idea that kiss = top is borne out by his questions as the big spoon later – "Was I good?... How much do I get, out of ten?" (Ep.11 [3‌/4] 14.55 and 15.07).

I have more information about this exchange in my write-up linked here – Pat's sign language response really also points very strongly to the conclusion that Pran did top Pat on their honeymoon night. 🥰

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.11 [3‌/4] 15.25 – a satisfied Pat uses wordless symbolism to tell expert sign-reader Pran that his performance the night before deserves a top score of 10

So based on this record of alternating bedroom roles, I now truly do believe Pat and Pran had been having sex from way before (maybe even as early as Ep.7), not only going the whole distance but also taking turns equally at giving and receiving. Pran's insistence on his "turn" wouldn't have made much sense otherwise. And this was BBS also putting paid to the fascination some fans have for the formulaic stereotyping about seme/uke and top/bottom roles in BL.

P.S. Now in spite of all that I've written above, I do concede that a lot of it is based on inference and clue-reading, and that it's still possible to read Pat and Pran as doing nothing more than making out and heavy petting, right up until Ep.11. A possible reason might be a reluctance on Pran's part to go all the way (perhaps BBS playing with the blushing maiden trope?), given how much exasperation he shows whenever Pat turns clingy (e.g., at Ep.9 [2/4] 5.21, Ep.9 [3‌/4] 4.29 and Ep.11 [1‌/4] 15.19, though it's also evident he's always charmed by Pat's antics despite himself). The boys also could have begun taking turns in their matrimonial bed only after they got to the Zero Waste Village, though I don't see how they could have had the time for more than a single go (especially since they were all tired out by the family drama of Ep.10 and their journey to get to the beach). And this would make Pran's "Isn't it my turn?" a little odd, since phrasing it as a question implies enough rounds for them to be unclear on whose turn it should be. Plus (as previously mentioned) the use of the codeword kiss implies it's already an established system (i.e., not created in the previous few days) that they both understand. Like I said, it's possible – but given the ensemble of clues and signs pointing at PatPran's sex life, I really do not think it is likely. It could be that Director Aof and team were skirting the sexual dimension in order to tone BBS down enough to make it past the censors for more general viewing (and in this way allow its message to reach the younger generation as well). Thus the greater reliance on innuendo and inference to suggest rather than show outright that there was more going on between the lines (behind the curtain? Noting that the novel on which BBS is based is titled Behind the Scenes 🤩) with regard to physical love between Pat and Pran (and is an apt metaphor for the storytelling of BBS as a whole, where nothing is as it seems at first glance – discussed more in detail in my write-up linked here). And this is possibly the meaning underlying the innuendo-laden cookout with Junior – the scene is a capsule summary of BBS where the surface theatrics are inoffensive enough for viewing by the younger set, while the more adult themes embedded in the narrative will become visible only if you look at them with more experienced eyes, and thus will satisfy more mature audiences as well. The end result isn't as anodyne as My School President (nor could it have been, given the weightiness of the encoded themes) but BBS still managed to land the 13+ age rating, which isn't at all bad if they were wanting to get its important messaging about LGBTQ+ positivity out to younger teens. And that messaging would be further reinforced, and with even less sexual content – zero in my book – when MSP hit the screens later of course. 💖

‌ P.P.S. This is not 100% related, but I have to put in a little side-note here about Pran's comfort object (his PP hobo bag). In my head I'm convinced part of why that bag works for Pran as his security blanket is not just because it's a physical shield or something to hold on to when out and about.

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.11 [1‌/4] 4.24 – Pat and Pran arrive once more at the Zero Waste Village, but this time around they're a confirmed couple seeking refuge for their forbidden love

I think Pran's comfort object also functions like a Mary Poppins Bag of Requirement, allowing him to carry all sorts of stuff to counter any eventuality life might throw his way, and thus also bestowing on him a sense of control in the outside world. Now gay sex can sometimes be a messy affair – but knowing canon OCD Pran, I'm pretty sure that bag held all the necessary accoutrements for our boys to have a smooth, muss-free and fuss-free ride on their honeymoon romps, and with easy clean-up assured afterwards as well… 😉

‌

[moccahobi]

Cafe Amore [Jimin x Taehyung]

Summary: Taehyung and Jimin live two opposite lives only connected by their work at a coffee shop. Yet Jimin desperately wants more. Can they bond over coffee despite Taehyung disliking it?

Personal Prompt: How does Cafe Amore make such good coffee? Simple! They make regular sacrifices to coffee gods.

Paring: Jimin (BTS) x Taehyung (BTS)

Genre: Coffee Shop AU, Fluff

Warnings: Light mention of human sacrifices

Word Count: 2.5k words

A/N: This is part of @thebtswritersclub project "heating up"! I also got the prompt "coffee shop au" which I am a sucker for. And I had an old prompt I wrote that I could use! Also. Normally I use photos from BTS's facebook for my banners. Today, I used ones from the BTS World Wiki. I remembered Jimin having been a mochi maker and just knew the vibes would fit.

In a world of darkness and frustration, what is the one thing that can brighten it all?

For Jimin and his world of darkness ( the morning rush at Cafe Amore), the answer is the boxy and warm smile of Kim Taehyung (his coworker and the only person working the front with him). The morning rush had started sooner than he was scheduled though, and Jimin was flooded with coffees, drowning in an aroma he previously loved. It was a bad idea for the coffee aficionado to work here, cursed to explain over and over again what a piccolo and a (real) macchiato are.

An hour into the rush and Taehyung finally enters. Bless his heart but he knew nothing about coffee before working at the cafe. He didn't even drink it. Instead his mind was on the specialty drinks and fun flavors he could make. It was endearing and scary how much sugar Taehyung could consume when practicing his drinks. Cafe Amore has amazing beans that shouldn't be ignored, yet here Taehyung was, almost always ignoring it. It did mean that Taehyung took Mr. "Cat" when he came in asking for a "macchiato" which Jimin was forever grateful for. 

He was Jimin's best (work) friend, and Jimin always found himself thinking about how he might become real friends. The ocean between work friends and real friends felt insurmountable though. Nothing in sight and mapless.

Instead Jimin tried to find comfort in being work friends, to savor their laughter and treasure the smiles. Taehyung didn't seem like someone who'd be friends with Jimin anyways. A jazzy free spirit didn't seem to mesh well with an uptight perfectionist. Jimin spent all his freetime locked away in a dance studio while Taehyung explored the city and found niche places all around. They seemed to live in separate worlds bridged only by their work.

Jimin tapped Taehyung's calf as he rushed to get changed in the back. The rush was no where near done but now at least the rush would feel better. Taehyung was a magical salve full of small comments and smiles that fueled Jimin to keep going. 

"I went to a jazz bar this weekend. It was so fun! When we have a chance, I'll show you pictures." Taehyung said as he signed into the next register, his warm hand patting Jimin's shoulder.

Jimin nodded, swallowing the silly feelings of jealousy over being able to see these events but not be let in. He chose being a busybody, but sometimes he wished for more. Taehyung made him want more. 

"I had to work all weekend," Jimin forced a laugh, "Jazz sounds so much nicer."

With that, the two slid into a silent dance, rushing around to feed and fuel the 100+ coffee (and non-coffee) lovers who filled the rush. Not infrequently, they'd brush against each other, the barista bar space a glorified gap between the counters. Jimin felt himself relaxing when they bumped into each other, Taehyung's warmth a kind break from the fire of customers and the boil of the barista machine.

Two hours later, Taehyung was able to finally make himself a smoothie and the two could take a breather.

"One of the songs made me think of you." He started, the blender screaming over him, "I mean, I don't know how to dance well, but it seemed like one that would have great potential for dancing."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Do you dance to jazz much?"

Jimin shrugged, "Not really. I'd be down to try though."

Try for you. His traitorous mind supplied, And then maybe you can come watch me perform.

"What do you dance to then?" Taehyung asked as he filled his cup and grabbed a straw.

"Contemporary and ballet. But I've not had much time lately," Jimin sighed and looked down, "My dance studio cut the classes I'm teaching so I've been picking up more shifts here."

Taehyung nodded, "Lot's more?"

"I mean... My pay here is much worse than my pay at the studio so yeah. I get to see the place at much quieter hours now though."

"That sounds creepy! I didn't think this place ever wasn't busy."

Jimin laughed, "There's a time between 3am and 5am that is near dead!"

Taehyung shook his head, "Sounds like a brutal time to be working. They should just close the shop then."

Jimin shrugged and took a sip of his latte.

"Were you working Saturday night?"

He nodded.

"That's when I went to this jazz bar. Want to see some of it now?"

Before long another rush came.Jimin was swept up in the hectic rush of the day,  one song in the backtrack of his mind. It hung over him and he found himself stealing away to his mind to choreograph it. It totally wasn't because of the cute video of Taehyung dancing to it surrounded by old couples. The song was just good.

It would be three more days before Taehyung and Jimin were scheduled together again. Their days off just slightly overlapped and left an awkward day when one was working and the other wasn’t. *It also meant that there was a day both had off.* Jimin was asked to take his break early that day, finally getting a moment off his feet to sit and breathe. Given… early meant 4 hours in rather than 5. One of the few things he hated about the cafe was never being able to breathe while working. There was almost always work to do and if there wasn’t, a manager could find more. Sure he and Taehyung spent their fair share of time talking, but if there wasn’t the threat of more work to do soon they were working on something as they talked.

Jimin took a deep breath and looked out of the shop, imagining what he'd be doing now if bills weren't such a threat. Maybe he'd be dancing. Maybe he'd be spending more time with his cat. Maybe he'd be with friends. It was times like this that made Jimin frustrated that he had to work to live. The world was cruel and unfair and his jobs weren’t lucrative. Even with a roommate, money could get tight. The stress of living sometimes weighed on Jimin more than it seemed it weighed on others. If only he didn’t need to work. If only he could leave and not work ever again.

Jimin sighed, not liking the upset he felt at the thought of working, wanting to focus on the fun he had with Taehyung at work. He spent so many hours of his life here, stuck in the cafe with a smile. Would he be happier if he didn't work here? if he was doing other things?

"Try my new drink!" Taehyung bounded over, a neon blue beverage in his hands like a neon blue light breaking Jimin’s dark thoughts.

Jimin laughed and felt some tension leave him. He refused to think about how many spoonfuls of sugar were in the drink but at least it looked unique. 

"It's a blueberry pie milkshake. One of my neighbors back home gave me a ton of blueberries that I'd been keeping in the freezer for a good time. Inspiration struck me so here it is!"

Jimin nodded, taking a slow sip the sugary sweetness coating his tongue and only barely cut through by a small hint of acid, "Mhhh. I imagine the customers who like dessert drinks will love this."

"What about you?" Taehyung asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"Yeah. I think I would prefer it to be a bit tarter, but it's good." Jimin said, trying to think of how much more of him he could stomach of the sugary drink. His latte will help cut through the sugar so maybe a few more sips.

Taehyung nodded before going back behind the counter to continue working. Tiny cups lined upon the counter made Jimin worried. Was he going to offer free samples to customers? Jimin cut his break a bit shorter to toss the half-drunk milkshake out when Taehyung was in the back after watching Taehyung offer a tiny bit to anyone who passed the counter.

The rest of their day flowed uneventfully aside from one customer who spat out Taehyung’s milkshake and called it the “worst thing ever imagined”. Taehyung thankfully just laughed it off but it did mean more cleaning and Jimin took to doing it when Mr. Cat came in and his eyes zeroed in on the final batch of samples Taehyung had. That’d make the whole “worst thing ever imagined” ordeal disappear. 

Jimin was first to sign off and he found himself struck by the urge to stay later if only to get off at the same time as Taehyung. Theoretically he could stay and talk with Taehyung, but he had hours of housework to do and he didn’t want to be at this cafe longer than needed. Curse modern media for making it seem like grabbing a drink after work was a common thing.

With staggered shifts at the cafe, it meant that often only one person left at a time. Yet often it felt like the only thing he could try to branch the ocean of distance between work and life. How else would one become friends with coworkers? Sure Jimin had Taehyung’s number from the work chat… but was that really something he could use? No. Jimin sighed when he got into his car, taking a few moments to breathe before driving away.

Taehyung was at work before Jimin the next day, his eyes wide as he sipped a black drink.

"What ya' got there?" Jimin asked as he clocked in.

"Americano."

"Sugary?"

"No. It's black."

"Thought you didn't like black coffee," Jimin said with a laugh as he walked back to grab his apron.

"I didn't think I did. But Mr. Cat had some after getting a whiff of someone’s latte. Don’t ask me how or why he smelled someone’s latte. Made me decide to try one."

Jimin nodded but didn't know what to say. All their coffee smelled good to him and as he brewed himself a cappuccino, it didn’t smell different. Nor did it taste different when he took a sip. Well the milk did, but that was because they got a different brand. He watched as Taehyung reached for a second cup of americano and eventually a third.

"You might want to slow down on your coffee." Jimin finally said, reaching out to take the cup from Taehyung.

"Why? I'm enjoying the coffee."

Jimin nodded and laughed, "Yeah. But this has a lot of caffeine, especially if you've not had much caffeine before. Maybe switch to a decaf one? Or water? Maybe some food."

Taehyung sighed, "Wow. Ok, dad. This has water in it," But he did grab something to eat from his bag and started sipping on his water.

"The coffee here is really good though. You might really like it in a latte or cappuccino. The milk mellows out the bitterness."

Taehyung nodded, his cheeks filling with his breakfast bar, "How do they make it so good? This batch smelled better than others so maybe they changed a supplier?"

Jimin shrugged, "Not that I know of."

The conversation died down as a rush came, the usual caffeine junkies and work-in-cafe people coming and going throughout the two hours. Jimin was glad that Taehyung didn’t have a chance to make another drink for himself. The dude was definitely shaking from how much he already drank. 

"Omg! what if they started sacrificing people to make their coffee better?" Taehyung said, jumping from the chair he was lounging on during his break, his eyes wide. Jimin was thankful that Taehyung wasn’t holding his latte as he started swinging his arms around. 

Jimin laughed and shook his head.

"I've read stories of people investigating similar stuff, "Taehyung continued, coming up to the counter to whisper conspiratorially, "I once heard of someone... I think his name was Namjoon and he went searching into a coffee shop because their stuff suddenly got good but people were going missing. Do we know of anyone who went missing recently?

Raising an eyebrow, Jimin tried to think of where this story might have come from "I don't think so. Besides, I've been working 50 hours lately, when would they have had time to kidnap people? How would it even make the coffee better?"

Taehyung threw his hands up, his eyes widening with dramatics, "There are gods you can sacrifice people to, duh."

Did this come from a book Taehyung read? 

Jimin nodded, sipping his tea, "Sure. So this Namjoon dude went and investigated?"

Taehyung nodded, "Yeah. Apparently in the attic, there was a whole ass cult!" Taehyung shivered, "Imagine if that was happening here!"

"We have an office above us and no basement."

"You never know! What if they just told us that? Anyways Namjoon went missing apparently."

Jimin nodded, his mind finally landing on a book that fit what Taehyung was talking about. *Dungeons and Dry Cappuccinos.*, "Maybe Namjoon ended up being sacrificed. Maybe the missing people were a lure for people with no life who spent too much time online."

That last part wasn’t part of the story but it always seemed true to Jimin. 

Taehyung hummed, deep in thought, "I saw pictures of him somewhere. He's hot. I think he actually wooed this god named Seokjin. They, like, lived happily ever after. What if he and this god married and have coffee orchards?"

Jimin laughed, thinking back on the promotional material for the book, "I don't think coffee orchards exist."

"You know what I mean."

Jimin nodded, "If that's the case and no one has gone missing around us,how do we keep the coffee here so good? Clearly it’s good for the bank."

“Well our dessert drinks are more expensive so I don’t know about that. But…” Taehyung got quiet, his eyes focusing on nothing as he thought, "If Seokjin has blessed us then I think there has to be more love here. Not enough romance happens. That has to change."

Taehyung looked serious, his eyes burning with passion. Jimin felt alive with the intimidation and curiosity. What was Taehyung playing at?

Jimin laughed and shook his head, "How?"

"Go on a date with me."

His breath caught in his throat, unable to believe that Taehyung was asking this. Searching Taehyung’s face, Jimin saw no mirth anymore. Was he serious? 

"What?"

The sureness left Taehyung’s face and he looked down, scraping at some dried coffee grounds, "To appease the coffee gods, of course."

Was Taehyung just as unsure about getting closer? Jimin smiled, trying to calm the excitement in his stomach.

"Of course. It’s vital we appease Seokjin. When?"