#and the big part of it is. they dont get together until 1 hes older and 2. he literally dies for so long that theyre the same age

[mx-paint]

.

[nerves-nebula]

Out of curiosity, what would the teetle's favourite amusement park/fair rides be? Part of me thinks Donnie would be more for like, the big spinning swing rides bc its kinda like flying and its also a p chill ride.

The other part of me thinks He'd go on a drop tower bc Leo dared him and it unlocked something unhealthy in his brain that gets him addicted to thrill rides (close to death) so he goes after the sling shots and the insane coasters.

I also feel like if Mikey and Leo get into one of those teacup rides TOGETHER anyone else with them needs out because itll be the 1 (One) Cooperation Time because of their shared goal: Go spinny fast weee weee go so fast go until anyone else with them is hanging on for dear life if someone wouldnt get nauseous from just watching its not fast enough gogogogo.

Why is no one at this amusement park bothering these turtle kids??? Uhhhhh next question dont worry about it.

*has never been to a real amusement park*

i could not even begin to answer this. i dont really see the pleasure in any of these kinds of rides. if i wanted to feel like i was dying i'd call my parents and that doesn't even cost me anything.

yeah so because i don't like amusement park rides, this is something i'd have to think about for a while to figure out the answer to and honestly im not up for that right now.

edit- monster anon has come up with their own theories so im sharing it here:

For that fair park question I can absolutely answer it because I love tiny obscure things that seem completely random but ultimately help build the characters.

First they probably wouldn’t get to go to an amusement park until they’re way older. Mikey and Leo would be hyper competitive with each other over the games and have to take frequent trips to the car to put prizes away and come back.

Raph I feel would be more of a water park guy and even then be more into the lazy river than any high speed rides UNLESS Casey was there. In that case, they’d both be riding all the highest speed rides to see who can ride the most without getting dizzy/vomiting.

Donnie would probably love the 3d fake-coasters that just take you around and shake the cart to make you think it’s dipping and dropping.

There’s also competitive shooter-type coasters that aren’t overwhelmingly fast that I feel they’d all get on to try to see who could get the most points.

They all try park food. Donnie can’t stand any of it because the textures are bad, Mikey gets sick on churros, Leo buys overpriced pizza that makes his stomach upset, and Raph snacks through the whole day without any real “meals”.

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Thursday, May 26

Giles: Uh, well, it looks as if you, uh, were on to something. Buffy: I know. Giles: (walks around the bed) The, uh, the, the girl Tina, um, it's apparent that she, she died of the fever, (sits) simple enough, but, but her records show her improving and then suddenly deteriorating w-w-w-without any apparent cause. Willow: So we checked Dr. Backer out. This guy was *not* a solid citizen. Buffy: It wasn't Backer. He was clean. Cordelia: What do you mean 'clean'? Xander: What do you mean 'was'? Buffy: He's dead. This thing killed him, and not with kindness. (hands Giles the picture) Willow: You saw it? Buffy: No, it's invisible. I saw Backer nearly shredded and the thing knocked me down. But it's real. Which means I get to fight it.

~~Buffy Episode #30: "Killed by Death"~~

The Sunnydale Herald is looking for at least one new editor! Contributing to the Herald is a great way to get your Buffy on! Find out more here. [Drabbles & Short Fiction]

L'espoir d'un après (Buffy/Spike, G) by MissKitty28

Sea Breeze (Lorne, T) by angelus2hot

Pumpkin pie (Lorne/Reader, unrated) by prose-for-hire

Cicurate (Spike, G) by JayeMaru

[Chaptered Fiction]

What I Did On My Spring Break CH. 19 (Ensemble, T) by michael t

Simple and Clean Ch. 2 (Buffy/Angel, G) by OveliaGirlHaditRight

First Alternate, Chapter 8 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Soulburnt

Snippets, Chapter 35 (Buffy/Spike, M) by EllieRose101

After the Deluge, Chapter 25-26 (Buffy/Spike, M) by GillO

The Slayer and the Vampire, Chapter 20 (Buffy/Spike, T) by violettathepiratequeen

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What Lies Within, Chapter 7 (Buffy/Spike, E) by cawthraven

[Images, Audio & Video]

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So, I’ve been reading bits of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer 20th Anniversary Watcher’s Guide by oveliagirlhaditright

I dont enjoy actually watching the trio fumble their way into villainy, but I do love them thematically. by satisfactuality

Honestly, the Buffyverse is so good to build an extended universe on. by isagrimorie

As I continue my watch of the buffyverse…. by kncrowder88, librarydaze, darth-revan-dark-lord

Angel After the Fall reread continues with Spike AtF by multiple authors

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Your Favourite Big Bad Quotes by AsterialPuppet

Did Illyria love Wesley or beginning to love him? by jdpm1991

Was thinking about the disconnect between these two scenes Surprise by rachaeljurassic

Ok I haven’t been liveblogging the comics until now but i just got to the part with Archaeus by auberginesdonthavelimbs

Thinking about how Faith goes from torturing Wesley with a shard of glass in Five By Five by herinsectreflection

out of curiosity, what are your thoughts on the theory that Xander didn’t actually summon sweet in OMWF? by herinsectreflection

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[seaweedbraens]

LEMME GIVE U GUYS A FULL RUNDOWN OF THE SUPERHERO FIC SINCE I NEED TO MAKE NOTES ANYWAY

- basically!!! the gods are still vibin in the mortal world as usual but. the way the mist works is that the gods and the titans can both control it, and as titans grow in power mortals begin to see monsters. in the current timeline of the fic it's like a 50/50 situation between the gods and the titans so mortals cans see monsters but suspect nothing else

- so in very bnha fashion the gods set up hero agencies (i WISH i could claim this idea). think marvel heroes but if they reported to an agency. so each god has their own agency and they debut heroes - mostly one god's kid sticks to their own agency but there's a lot of overlap. for instance, hephaestus agency makes gear for most heroes.

- big 3 kids, since they're so few in number, come under the umbrella of a single agency.

- so the mortals know about the heroes (they dont know that theyre demigods tho) and heroes get really popular, there's a yearly ranking system that's based on public perception + successful missions + idk what else tbh lmfao i'll figure that out later

- the gods are the head of every agency but once every 15-20 years they "die/retire" and a "new head" takes their place but it's really the same god in greek/roman form, that last bit will be explained a bit later

- camp half blood and camp jupiter are basically hero training camps now. and demigods can figure out what they like and where they wanna go, there's internships at different agencies and opportunities to be sidekicks w currently-working heroes etc

- there's a lot of petty rivalry between the two camps because heroes debuting from each camp (based in california and NY respectively) are constantly vying for the top 10 heroes. the majority in the top 10 over the years before a god is "reborn" determines which form the god will take when they "become the new agency head." if that makes sense.

- basically!! if there are more roman heroes in the top 10, the god "retiring" will take up their roman forms until a new head "takes up the role." this means both greek gods and roman gods are existing at once, it's not one or the other.

- ANYWAY

- camp half blood and camp jupiter hold exchange programmes each year, mostly among the older campers. the way it goes it's chb one year and camp jupiter the next year. every graduating demigod HAS to visit the opposite camp at least once. if they want to, they can even switch camps.

- percy's roman in this fic

- he and annabeth get off on the wrong foot and then realize that oh. it's sexual tension. before starting a weird rivals w benefits thing

- they become friends and percy starts falling for her and annabeth is too but she's like nope nope gotta stay focused and just pushes her feelings away

- percy ends up leaving back to new rome but he wants to stay to be w her and he DROPS SUPER MEGA ULTRA HINTS HINTS but annabeth's so obsessed with debuting and making her mom proud that she doesnt register it

- years later they're both vying for the no 1 spot in the rankings and the titans are stirring so olympus makes the decision to send percy to new york (he was based in CA all this time because camp jupiter) to show that the top 2 heroes in the country are working together

- annabeth's kind of excited to work w him but he's super distant and she's like well fine u suck?? which leads to them going back to their super barbed toxic relationship during the exchange programme before they became friends

- finally annabeth confronts him and he spills the beans but assures her that he's over her, which is when all the feelings annabeth's been pushing away come back like hello i am here

- and percy's like yes!!! friends!!!! but annabeth is like !!!!!!!!!but i love u tho!!!!!! i mean she still struggles w doing what's best for HER and going against her mom's wishes for her so there's some good indecision there

- misunderstandings (+ a lot of teasing on annabeth's part later) ensue until they all end up happily ever after. tada

[pan-ic-at-the-homehome]

Golden Child Pt. 1

I literally can't remember where I found it but I read a headcannon for an angsty SBI +Reader and I loved it so much that I had to write something similar to it but I think I might have forgotten to like it, so if you know what the original is please tell me so I can credit them I was partially inspired by@helliontherapscallion's "Adrenaline Junkie" series, simply for the fact that because of them i haven't stopped thinking of inventor reader. Also let's just pretend that uh my human biology degree isn't going to waste by me writing blindness incorrectly ha ha. This is a purely fictional way that blindness works.

(REMINDER YOU IDIOT, FOR THE PURPOSES OF THIS STORY: Wilbur is 26, Techno is 20, Tommy is 16, Phil is 32, SO READER IS 22, GET IT RIGHT AND STOP MESSING UP)

As soon as Y/N's wings started developing, they were instantly the favorite child. Philza still showed his love to Wilbur, but nowhere near as much as he did to his winged child. If he had to choose between spending time with them or Wilbur, he'd pick them in a heartbeat. Wilbur was usually upset when this happened, but he had gotten used to it and had learned ways to cope with it.

This was until Techno showed up. On their doorstep. Next to a freezing Philza who had sacrificed most his warmth to the young piglin. Wilbur had his thoughts on this, yhough he kept them to himself. But Y/N couldn't be happier! This meant a new friend, AND they were right when they said that Phil was just a nice person, there wasn't a favorite child! Right?

They quickly realized that Techno wasn't their friend, as the first interaction they had together was them getting a claw to the face by the piglin. Philza just simply sighed and made sure the wound would stop bleeding before tending back to the scared pig.

Y/N was only eight at the time, they didn't know what they were feeling. But whatever it was didn't feel good.

Since that day, Y/N was the new Wilbur and 'Technoblade' was the golden child. Y/N wanted the spotlight back, so they tried hard at everything. Nothing ever worked. Nothing was better than what Techno could do. Nothing was more amazing than Techno's knowledge, or his skills in fighting, or his odd way of speaking, or those stupid things that he did, or the fact that he'd always blame it on some 'voices' in his head. That he had a God complex. That he was better than Wilbur. He was better than Tommy. He was better than you...

He was always better than you. Of course. Thats what you felt when you first met. Not amazement, not the happiness of having another friend. Of course not. It was overwhelming jealousy. But he was your brother, so you had to suck it up just like Wilbur did.

But soon enough, they came to peace with this. They moved on and worked on what they actually enjoyed, not what Philza enjoyed. Mechanics. Phil would have killed you if he learned of all the dangers that you put yourself through to consider yourself an inventor. Or.... Would he?

One day your older brother approached you with his idea to create "L'manburg". At first you couldn't help but laugh. But when it was realized that Wilbur wasn't joking and that he had already recruited Tommy, they agreed to join the fight for freedom. It was a way to pay Wilbur back for being there for them, afterall.

Y/N never imagined the true horrors that they would have to go through so they could say a 'thank you' to Wilbur. They never even truly said it to him, L'manburg was already exploded and he was killed before they could say it to him. Not even saying it to Ghostbur was good enough.

Y/N was forced to suffer through watching her loved ones go mad. Sometimes, they would try coming up with inventions that could help her friends out, and some that could help some regular problems in the world for other people. Most of them didn't work, they were only able to produce goggles that could just barely help fully blind people see. But it was a step in the right direction.

Then doomsday came. Y/N didn't want to be part of it, they didn't want to even try hurting their father and younger brother. They aren't even sure how they came to that point.

Before they knew it, they were begging the man who once gave them anything in the world for him to stop. The whole server was one big family especially everyone in the homes he was about to destroy. But what they wanted didn't matter anymore. It's what Technoblade wanted, and he wanted blood.

At the last moment, Y/N remembered Friend. Ghostbur would be devastated if Friend died.

Falling down to the ground from the small warning of TNT, Friend flooded their mind.

If they couldn't save L'Manburg, they needed to save Friend. Ghostbur wasn't the same, but Ghostbur is Wilbur. They still never said thank you. They have to show their gratitude through the miracle of Friend surviving.

And so that's what they set off to do. With no mind to their own self-preservation, Y/N got up and flew as fast as they could to save Friend. But before they could reach the sheep, a large pile of rubble fell on one of their wings, almost snapping it right off. Y/N tried to get it off but to no avail, and their whole body wasn't safe. As they saw more rubble they crouched down while covering their head with their hands and covering the undamaged wing with their body, they prepared for impact.

The last thing they could speak out was almost incomprehensible.

"Wil..... Will...... Ghosbu.............. Tommy.......... Dad............."

And then everything went black. Y/N couldn't see or feel anything. Not even after her youngest brother, the ghost of her older brother, and the three fiances of the SMP untrapped them. There was nothing.

After what felt like years for the brothers, there was finally a glimpse of Y/N waking up. But they continued to drift in and out of consciousness and whenever someone tried communicating they were completely unresponsive.

During this amount of time, it was agreed that it was in their best interest for their wings to be removed. They were both utterly useless now after being crushed and would just be extra weight with unnecessary pain that can be avoided the sooner their wings get removed. Just in case Y/N was still aware of everything going on, they were put under amnesia to lower the chance of them feeling the agony of a wing removal surgery.

Slowly Y/N began more responsive to people, but never to the same amount. Everyone that took care of them were absolutely heartbroken when they figured out part of the rock that fell on them damaged a vital organ that allowed a person to see. Luck was in fact on their side for damaging their eyesight instead of the brain, however most people didn't see it that way.

Ghostbur took it upon himself to become Y/N's seeing-eye dog. He missed having Friend nearby and Y/N was the thing he connected to the most after Friend's death.

After a few months of trying to get used to no longer having sight or wings Y/N was finally allowed back in their lab with a large amount of supervision from Ghostbur. While carefully running their hands across some unfinished inventions, Y/N comes across the goggles that they made at least a year ago. It immediately smarked a memory deep within their brain, the closest thing they had felt to seeing something ever since doomsday.

"Ghostbur, what color are these?" "Oh, they're blue. Blue's a really nice color, it reminds me of Friend. Do you remember Frien- Why are you looking down at those like that? Would you like some blue, it takes your sadness away! Wait dont put them on, the glass has cracks!" Y/N snickers as the ghost tries to take them away from them without being super forceful, "I'm already blind, what's the worst it can do?"

"Dont say that!" Ghostbur gasps, "We will find a way to get your vision back, those goggles might make it impossible!"

"I made these around the time you first showed up. I ran multiple tests with them and I was able to help a blind person see the world again. Sure, it was very blurry, hard to distinguish a lot of colors from each other, we have a different kind of blindness, and its been more that a year since I last tested them, but they might still work." Y/N explains, then they turn their back to Ghostbur and put the goggles on. This time, Ghostbut only makes a sound in protest.

Blinking, Y/N could feel the stimulation in their brain that they lost along with their eyesight come back. They moved their hands from the position they were in to put the invention on to Y/N's line of sight, and they could see their hands again. Fuzzy, shapeless, hands with a few bandaids and many scars on them.

"So, are they working?"

The voice of your brother brings Y/N back to reality and they turn to look at him. They had completely forgotten what Ghostbur looked like, only remembering vaguely what child Wilbur looked liked and a brief description of how Ghostbur's appearance differed for Wilbur's.

Y/N wraps their arms around the Ghost, not actually hugging but just doing the motion to where they would hug a person they could actually touch, as they tried to not cry in front of him.

(WOOOOOO THIS ENDED UP A LOT LONGER THAN I EXPECTED AND I'M NOT EVEN DONE YET, SO I SEPARATED IT INTO TWO PARTS)

[blkgirlcafe]

Professor Nasty

Professor! Florian Munteanu x Black! Reader

Warning: Public sex, unprotected sex, cheating, undefined age gap, dirty talking, slight degrading. 

I keep my description of the reader pretty vague, make her how you want, but she black fosho. I am trying to get better at writing from a Y/N perspective, so any constructive criticism is welcomed. 

Thank you @dersha98 for the inspiration and the ending. Thank you love!

University of Munich

Y/N tried to keep her eyes on the slides but it was nearly impossible. She never believed the hot professor stereotype until now. 

Somehow she had gotten her dates mixed up and ended up registering for classes late. Which means all the good electives were taken. Y/N had gotten stuck with the two worst electives one could think of and she was sure to be in for a boring ass time. Public speaking and Romanian literature. 

Public speaking was the worst to Y/N, because well it was public speaking. Every other week she was giving a speech, standing in front of a class of 30. It was nerve racking and she always needed a break after that class. 

Romanian literature on the other hand surprised her. The professor was gorgeous, a man if she ever saw one. 

Talk and built like a brick wall that she would happily run into. She sat up front, eyes tracing his each movement. 

“So reports are due, please pass them up.”

Y/N pulled out the report that she put together less than 4 hours ago after reading the spark notes online. She hadn’t read most of the book, getting bored within the first 4 chapters. 

Everyone knew that professors didn’t read these things, just grazed over and did a length check. 

She quickly passed it forward and began to pack her stuff, last class of the day. Y/N couldn’t wait to get home and watch Netflix. 

1 week later 

A big bright red F was stamped on her paper. Not even a C or D. This would tank her grade in the class which would tank her GPA. 

Y/N waited until the class was empty before approving Mr. Munteanu

Up close he was even more impressive of a man. He was solid built and smelled like mint and firewood. She liked it. 

He didn’t even get her a chance to talk, “Your grade is your grade, stop staring off into space and maybe it could have been better.”

Y/N was shocked not expecting that out of the normally quiet professor. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Munteanu, the book was just really hard for me to get into. Can I try another book? Please?” 

Y/N tried her puppy eyes on him, hoping it would work like it would on her boyfriend. 

“Read the whole book, cover to cover and instead of a 2 page report, I want 4. The highest you can get is a B.” 

“Yes Sir, thank you Sir.” 

The way he licked his lips made her look away, something inside her heating up at the thought of his tongue.

“When is it due?” She finally asked. 

“I’ll give you a week, and Y/N don’t tell anyone. I don’t normally let students make up work.”

“I won’t, thanks again Mr. Munteanu.”

Y/N declined an invite to drinks, and lowkey ghosted her boyfriend to finish the paper. Once she got past the first 4 chapters the book was actually good. Lots of drama and sex which she wasn’t expecting. 

She easily typed out a report after and printed it out. Excited to hand it back to him after class. 

Y/N waited silently as Mr. Munteanu read her paper. His tall frame was casually leaned against the desk at the front of the auditorium. She fidgeted in her seat. Having him read it in front of her was nerve racking. 

The paper dipped below his lips and Y/N found herself staring at his lips and how pink they were, wondering if they tasted as good as they looked. 

“Miss Y/N, Y/N!” 

Y/N snapped out her daydream, “Yes Sir.”

“I asked what is your favorite part of the book?”

Y/N chewed her lips, wondering if she should tell the truth. The book had a few steamy sex scenes and they were explained in graphic detail. 

Y/N kind of shrugged, not wanting to answer him. 

“Use your voice young lady.” His voice was stern, making her clench her thighs. 

“The sex scenes Sir, they were just so real.”

One eyebrow shot up on his face. 

Y/N felt her heart speed up, this was not a conversation she was prepared to have with him. 

“Come here Miss Y/N.” 

On shaky legs she made her way to where he was standing, he picked the book up off the desk and handed it to her. 

“Show me your favorite part.” 

Y/N flipped through the book she was handed. For some reason her hands were shaking, she found the part. 

“This is it.” Y/N squeaked out. 

“Read it Miss Y/N.”

Y/N gulped, praying her voice did not fail her, “ His soft touch sent flutters through her body, this is what it felt like to be touched by a man. An experienced man…”

Mr. Munteanu wrapped a large hand around her hip, Y/N gasped.

“Can I touch you?” 

“Yes...please.”

Y/N cursed herself, already begging. Mr. Munteanu stood and Y/N felt surrounded by him, he towered over her, his scent engulfed her. Y/N tilted her face up, to look at him. 

“Tell me you want this.” he barely whispered. 

“I want this sir.” 

Mr. Munteanu crashed his lips on hers, kissing her aggressively. Y/N kissed him back, biting back a moan as he grabbed her ass.  She needed more, wanted more. 

“Please Sir…” she broke the kiss. 

“Please what sweetheart.” 

Y/N wasnt sure what to ask, fuck my brains out sir, use me like a toy sir, do anything you want. The pad of this thumb traveled from her hip to her neck where he gently squeezed getting a moan out of Y/N.

“Don't make me ask twice.” 

“Please fuck me Sir.” 

Mr. Munteanu growled as his other hand yanked at her jeans, not even bothering to unbutton them, pulling them down. 

Cold air hit Y/N wet pussy lips she was absolutely drenched from the little he had done. What happened next happened so quickly, Y/N head was still swirling. She was face down on the hard wooden desk, Mr. Munteanu running a thick digit up and down her slit.  The clink of a belt was all that could be heard over both of their hard breathing. 

“Fuck I wish I had more time.” his thick accent broke her out her spell. 

“Please...I need you.” Once again begging like a whore to be fucked by an older man. 

“Don't worry sweetheart, I am going to fuck you like a man should.” 

His wet tip came in contact with her thigh as he guided the thick cock head towards her entrance. His pre cum mixed with her wetness as he pushed inside her, testing the limits of her walls. 

A gasp left Y/N as his thickness filled her up, a painful stretch that quickly turned into pleasure. Mr. Munteanu pushed until their bodies were connected, Y/N walls fluttered around him, reacting to having such girth in them. 

“Good girl, taking all of me.” he grunted. 

Y/N moaned as he begin to fuck her, slow deep strokes that left her breathless. Y/N let out a loud fuck as he hit a particular spot. 

“Have to be quiet for me baby, can't let them know what I am doing to you.” 

“I cant...It feels so good...please more.” Y/N tried to bite her lip, to keep from getting too loud. 

“You want them to know that you like older men, that you let me fuck and so quick.”

“Fuck Yes, please dont stop!”

“I'm not stopping until I flood that cunt.” 

Mr. Munteanu lifted one of her legs, setting it on the desk, hitting even deeper on each stroke, a tingling that started in her core finally let go, Y/N toes curled as she had her first orgasm, breath hitched in her throat. 

“Look at you, already cumming all over my dick. Imagine if I had you in a bed, the things I could do to you babygirl.”

Y/N head swam with the thoughts, the way he could use her body, she wanted that more than she wanted anything else right now. 

“Does your boyfriend make you feel like this?”

He knows I have a boyfriend, Y/N though. Mr. Munteanu picked up the pace, slamming his hips into her. 

“Tell me Y/N.” he said through clenched teeth. 

“No Sir, you feel better.” Y/N cried out. 

Y/N was being fucked so hard she swore the desk was moving, not that she cared, her second orgasm was sneaking up on her. 

Moans, skin slapping and the occasional grunt filled the empty auditorium. Mr. Munteanu pulled out, flipping her over before laying her back on the desk. All Y/N could see was him and his extremely chiseled chest. Her ass was pulled to the edge of the desk, her ankles by his ears, thick dick at her wet entrance. Y/N fist clenched around nothing, riding out her second orgasm. 

“Fuck, I am about to…” Mr. Munteanu never finished. 

He flooded her unprotected pussy, something she didn't even let her boyfriend do. He kissed her legs and thighs as he pulled her legs down. 

“I need more.” was the last thing he said as she rushed to put her pants back on and scurry out the door. 

Y/N rushed across campus, she felt like everyone knew what just had happened, she felt like everyone knew that her professor cum was staining her panties. She made it to her boyfriend's apartment, praying he was not there, still at the gym, or at the pub with friends.

The whole way up all she could think was, I just had sex with Mr. Munteanu! In the same class that he taught me in. Y/N was going to have to stare at that desk for the rest of the semester. She got to his apartment and mentally cursed herself, she could hear him on the game already. 

“Babe! Where have you been?” He asked her. 

“I had to turn in that paper and he had me stay while he read it.” Y/N tried to quickly get down the hallway but  Fynn wouldn't stop talking. Any other time he would be so engrossed in the game she could walk around stark naked and he wouldn't notice. 

“I waited on you for dinner though, I am hungry babe.” he whined. 

“Let me take a quick shower and I'll order your favorite.” 

She should feel guilty that her boyfriend was waiting for her to return while she was having the best sexual experience of her life on a desk, with her professor, who was also her boyfriend professor. But all she could think about was two orgasms in less than ten minutes. 

“Why are you walking funny baby?”

Y/N froze in her place, she just got fucked with the biggest dick she ever saw. 

“Sprained my ankle earlier in heels, I need to put it up.” 

Y/N quickly faked limped to the bathroom, turning the water up super high. She set her phone on the counter noticing a text from an unknown number. 

Be free Friday evening -Flo

[iceeckos12]

time travel snippet

little time travel au oneshot. season 5 jon travels back in time to season 1. from the perspectives of tim, martin, and sasha. 3.5k.

i dont think i need to tag anything, but please let me know otherwise.

Tim wakes up that morning, and it’s just like any other day.

Well—no, okay, that’s a bit misleading. Today is his first day working as an archival assistant, so he’s one part nervous, one part that breathless, exhilarated feeling you only get when you’re about to do something unfamiliar that may or may not redefine your life for the foreseeable future. When he says “it’s just like any other day”, he means that he wakes up, and he’s a normal person doing normal people things like eating a healthy breakfast and going to work.

(So, no. In short, he doesn’t realize that today is the day when It happens, that big, life-changing event that you think will Never Happen To You.)

He gets out of bed, stumbles into the bathroom. Washes his face of whatever residue that’d built up during the night, tries to scrape away the evidence of his nightmares, smiles big and bright at the mirror to see how successful his efforts were. He’s betrayed by the traitorous bags beneath his eyes, but that’s okay. Sasha taught him how to wield concealer as a shield whenever his past wore down his armor.

He shoots twin finger guns into his reflection, making soft pew, pew! noises that are almost too-loud in the hush of the bathroom. Then he turns on his heel and walks away, sauntering and humming along with the chorus of Dolly Parton’s 9 to 5.

He gets to the Institute twenty minutes before he’s supposed to—not because he’s trying to impress his boss or whatever (he and Jon have known each other long enough that there’s no point). It’s just, Jon will probably want to make some sort of game-plan before the actual workday starts. 

The poor man had been relieved to an almost comical degree when Tim had said yes, I’ll come with you to the Archives. It’s painfully obvious how out-of-his-depth Jon is with the whole “Head Archivist” thing. Tim’s honestly baffled as to why Elias had singled him out for the position in the first place, considering his lack of qualifications.

But, whatever. It’s fine! Tim and Sasha will be there to help him—although the third assistant is a bit of a problem, considering that they know absolutely nothing about him. There’s no guarantee that this Martin Blackwood won’t report inadequacies or mistakes back to Elias. If that’s the case, Tim and Sasha will have to be Jon’s safety net, which is partially why Tim is hoping to talk to Jon before anyone else gets there.

He also wants to talk to Jon because he just knows the man is probably working himself up over all of this. Maybe reassurances won’t do away with the source of anxiety entirely, but at least it’ll remind Jon that he’s not alone, and that he can count on Tim and Sasha.

As expected, when Tim gets there he can see a sliver of light pouring out from the cracked door of the Head Archivist’s office. He selects a desk and sets his bag on top of it, noting a set of strange gouges in the fake wood with a raised eyebrow, and then an internal shrug. The Institute issued laptop is near the far edge of his desk, and his collection of pictures are strategically placed so that he can see them all clearly.

His eyes linger over the image of him, his mother, and his brother. Their smiles are almost perfect replicas of each other, like someone took a mold of one of their faces and recreated it twice over.

Briefly, he closes his eyes. Then he shakes himself, releases a slow, steadying breath, and goes to check on Jon.

Tim’s not sure what he’s expecting to see when he goes into Jon’s office.

(That’s misleading too, though. He’s not sure if Jon will be visibly calm or upset, if he’ll be on his laptop, if he’ll be picking at the skin around his fingernails, as he so often does when he’s stressed. He is expecting Jon as he is and always has been—a twenty-some year old going on sixty, who wraps his gruff, grumpy demeanor about himself to protect the soft, vulnerable core he likes to pretend doesn’t exist.)

He comes up to the door, and the soft rectangle of light that emanates from beneath the door paints the tips of his shoes gold. “Jon?” he calls softly, rapping his knuckles against the frame. There’s a soft rustling noise—papers maybe? but no audible response, so he shrugs and pushes the door open. “I’m coming in.”

Tim steps inside, a quip instinctively readying itself on his tongue—but then his gaze lands on Jon, and he freezes dead in his tracks.

Even years later, he still vividly, viscerally remembers the moment he saw Danny standing on the stage underneath the Royal Opera House, the way he’d looked...not quite right. The wrongness had been subtle, so much so that it had been unnoticeable upon first glance, upon second glance. The longer Tim had looked though, the more obvious it had become, exposing all the little faults in that almost-perfect recreation of his brother.

Looking at Jon now, it’s the first and only thing he can think of. Because—yes, there’s the long, silver-streaked black hair, there’s the rich brown eyes, there’s the pair of spectacles that make him look far older than he actually is. But that’s where the similarities between the Jon he knows and this Jon end.

Jon’s always been a small man, but his feigned haughtiness makes him seem much bigger than he actually is. Except—except this Jon looks smaller somehow, his shoulders curved protectively inward, like he’s trying to present less of a target. And there’s something about his face, too—his expression is too sharp, too much—

But the worst of it is his eyes. There’s something very wrong with his eyes.

Who the fuck are you, and what have you done with Jon? He doesn’t say it out loud though, just keeps staring at Jon, a heady mix of terror and horror making any sort of reaction impossible.

After a moment Jon’s lips thin, contorted by some distant cousin of displeasure, and he rises to his feet. Tim stumbles instinctively backward, his breath escaping him in a sharp gasp that’s immediately swallowed up by the apathetic stacks of books and papers surrounding them. He’s struck by the fact that if he dies here, it’s unlikely anyone will notice; he’ll become just another set of marks gouged into the desk, willed away with an uneasy shrug.

Jon freezes, lips parting subtly, as though he were about to speak. Tim feels his breath catch in his chest, unable to shake himself out of the clouded stupor his mind has fallen into.

In the end, Jon says nothing. Just releases a long, slow breath of air and sits back down, pushing his chair close to his desk. The motion looks heavy, tired, as though it takes far more energy than it should.

“You—you should go,” Jon rasps, and there’s something off about his voice too, though Tim can’t put his finger on why. He can’t cobble together enough of a train of thought to make sense of any of this, all he can think of is that clown ripping Danny apart—

He stumbles out of Jon’s office, sits down at his desk. Stares down at the cheap, fake wood, at the gouges that have marred the otherwise pristine surface. Puts his head in his hands, and tries to will his heart to stop pounding in his chest.

-0-

Martin’s heard things about Jonathan Sims.

He’s not usually the type to pay attention or encourage gossip, as the vivid memories of his classmates tittering cruelly whenever he walked by still leaves a sour taste in his mouth.The problem with the Institute is that the employees get bored pretty easily. Though most would consider academic research into the esoteric and the paranormal to be fairly interesting, it’s still academic research. And the subject content can get to be a bit...repetitive. There’s only so many gruesome statements you can read without thinking, oh great, more meat.

So the employees gossip a lot, and while Martin usually tries to keep his head down and avoid it, it’s difficult not to overhear some things. And from what little he’s heard, he’s...a bit concerned. Rude and unsociable has frequently been mentioned, as have arrogant and unnecessarily finicky, and worst of all, a bit of a stuck-up know-it-all.

Normally he tries not to put too much stock in office gossip—he’s well aware that the grapevine tends to exaggerate one’s most undesirable traits—but if any of it is true, then he might just be in trouble. It was hard enough being a library employee when his boss wasn’t even paying attention most of the time. If Jon is as exacting as they say, it might be enough to expose the fact that Martin has no idea what the fuck he’s doing. And if that happens, then he might get fired, and he can’t get fired, he needs this job, he can barely keep up with his mum’s medical bills as it is—

Calm down, Martin tells himself firmly, pressing his hand against his sternum, as though that will be enough to quell the rising panic. It’s only your first day. Maybe he’s nice, and we’ll actually be good friends.

(With his luck? Yeah, right.)

The Institute looms in the distance, growing closer with every terrified, grudging footstep. A shiver runs up his spine at the sight of its imposing presence, a dark, ugly blot of a building against the backdrop of the iron grey clouds.

If there’s one thing he’s good at though, it’s keeping his head down and muddling through until he’s able to figure out what is actually expected of him. He can twist and fold himself into whatever role they need him to fill, as he has done so many times in the past. Not easily perhaps, but he has always managed. The alternative is untenable, after all.

So he takes a deep breath, and shoves his panic down as deep as possible. Lifts his head and forces a smile onto his face, like a good attitude will be enough to protect him from his boss’s wrath.

He could really do with a cup of tea.

Martin trudges down the stairs, giving the blank walls, the old-fashioned carpet, a dubious look as he does. The Archives themselves are as he remembers it—he’s been down here a couple of times when Gertrude made a request for something specific, but—

He pauses when he notices a man sitting at one of the desks, his face buried in his hands. His shoulders aren’t shaking and his breathing is even, so Martin doesn’t think that he’s crying? He’s just….sitting there, his stillness so perfect it’s almost inhuman.

“Hello?” Martin calls softly, cautiously, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet.

The man looks up, revealing a very handsome face and brown eyes so dark they may as well be black. His cheeks are dry but his eyes are bright and a little wild, and his mouth is pressed into a small, tight line. He doesn’t speak, just keeps watching, blinking dazedly in Martin’s direction. Martin gets the feeling that this person isn’t entirely there at the moment, like a house in which every room is lit, but there are no people inside.

He swallows and shifts nervously back and forth, trying to decide whether or not to call for some backup. Eventually he sets his bag on the floor and shuffles a bit closer. “Um—are you—is everything okay?”

The man blinks rapidly, some semblance of awareness creeping back into his gaze. He shakes his head slowly, pushes his short, gelled hair back from his head. His hands are trembling. “I’m...yeah, I’m fine. It’s—everything’s, it’s…”

But then his gaze lands on something over Martin’s shoulder, and all the color drains out of his face, his mouth shutting with a painful sounding click. Martin quickly spins around, searching for whatever could’ve scared him so much—

There’s someone standing in the doorway of Gertrude’s office.

There are so many things that one normally takes in upon first meeting another person: their hair, their skin color, all the little wrinkles and marks that give you the briefest insight into their life. Martin looks at posture first, tends to check if a person is intentionally looming, or if they’re making themself smaller.

But all Martin can see are the eyes.

There’s—two of them he thinks, but two is such an arbitrary number when the thing you’re applying it to doesn’t ascribe to human values (he’s not sure how he knows that—how does he know that—?). That horrible, terrible gaze is an unerring arrow, all-encompassing, all-consuming, piercing the deepest corners of his mind. It hurts in some distant, nebulous way he’s not even sure he comprehends—

Then he blinks, and the sheer terror, that feeling of the horrible, violating exposure of everything that he is, abruptly snuffs out. What’s left is just a person, wispy and small, his slight frame fairly drowning in a chunky, cable-knit jumper. He’s leaning against his doorframe, his eyes—two big brown ones, rich and unfathomably sad and more than that, human—drinking Martin in, his lips parted in a soundless gasp.

“Um—” Martin glances over his shoulder, and almost leaps out of his skin when a land falls heavily on his shoulder. The man who’d been sitting in the chair is standing just behind him, a strained but polite smile on his face.

“Hi Jon,” the man says, an undercurrent of a warning in his voice.

Martin glances between the two, his confusion growing with every passing moment. This is not what he was expecting when he first came into work today, and the uncertainty makes him feel strange and off-kilter.

The person in the door swallows once, twice, then straightens, one hand still gripping the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. When he speaks, his voice is soft, tentative, a little ragged around the edges. “Tim. It’s, um...it’s good to see you.”

“Martin Blackwood, was it?” Tim continues, injecting a bit of cheer into his voice. It takes Martin a moment to realize that he’s being addressed, and he shoots Jon—this is Jonathan Sims?—an uncertain look before nodding slowly. “We’re happy to have you on the team.”

“O-Oh?” Martin squeaks, then grits his teeth and bodily forces his voice back into its normal range. “I’m—um, I’m happy to be here?”

“Good,” Tim says through a grin that looks more like a grimace, giving Martin’s shoulder a friendly pat. The look he shoots Jon is a dark, mistrustful thing. The look Jon gives him back is fragile, vulnerable, that winds the tension in Tim’s shoulders so tight it has to be painful.

Jon’s gaze flickers to Martin, just for a second—and then he disappears into his office, leaving the door cracked behind him.

Tim and Martin stand there for a second, staring at the door. Tim’s still tense as a bowstring, and his grip on Martin’s shoulder is almost uncomfortable. The air in the Archives feels stuffy and too warm, and there’s a strange prickling sensation on the back of Martin’s neck, like he’s being subjected to close scrutiny.

Then Tim sighs and lets go of Martin’s shoulder, a little of the tension bleeding out of him, and without it he looks small, deflated. He goes back to his desk and sits down, booting up his laptop without a word of explanation to Martin.

Martin stares at the back of Tim’s head for a moment, a number of questions clamoring around in his brain—what the fuck was that? What’s wrong with Jon? Why are you so obviously suspicious of him?—but the words won’t come. Breaking the silence feels...sacrilegious, somehow. Every breath of air sticks against the back of his throat.

In the end, he doesn’t say anything either, just sits at his desk and takes out his Institute-issued laptop. Stares blankly at the screen as the machine slowly, laboriously, comes to life.

-0-

Sasha’s not entirely sure how to interpret the tense atmosphere that has descended over the Archives.

The first day she’d arrived a couple of minutes before she was supposed to, prepared to follow Jon’s direction and help him adjust as best she could. (Her feelings about Jon’s promotion...didn’t matter. She didn’t like it, but it wasn’t his fault that Elias was an old-fashioned misogynist.)

But when she’d come down the stairs, Tim and the assistant she didn’t know, Martin, had been seated quietly at their desks. They’d both had the same distant, shell-shocked look on their faces, like they’d received some shattering, horrible news. Sasha had sent Tim a confused look, but he either hadn’t noticed it, or hadn’t wanted to explain.

She hadn’t even seen Jon that first day, just received a polite email asking her to start organizing the statements according to the system which he’d devised.

It’s been almost three days, and nothing has changed. Oh sure, they’ve all started organizing the statements as directed. Tim cracks jokes, Martin tiptoes around them and makes copious amounts of tea. That strange tension that makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up, like the world is holding its breath in anticipation, hasn’t faded though. And while she doesn’t know Martin all that well, she knows that something’s still up with Tim. He seems more subdued than usual, keeps sending uncomfortable looks in the direction of Jon’s office—

—which hasn’t been open since that first day. She hasn’t seen Jon at all either, no matter how early she arrives or how late she stays. The only proof she has that he’s still alive is the polite email she periodically receives, detailing some specific task that he wants for them to do.

Even then, his emails are...odd. She’s not sure how she can tell, but they feel...awkward? Stilted? Like he’s only half-aware of what he’s typing, or like he’s only asking them to do things because he feels like he should, not because he has any actual goal in mind.

Normally she’d be frustrated by this, would complain bitterly to Tim about Elias passing over her for someone who obviously doesn’t properly appreciate the position they’ve been given—except that she knows Jon. He’d made a point to explain the situation to her himself, an apologetic twist tucked into the corner of his mouth. More than that, he’d asked her to follow him to the archives, saying that he wanted the two people he trusted most, her and Tim, to come with him.

He respects her too much not to take this job seriously.

The strangeness of the archives is only emphasized by Jon’s complete and utter lack of presence within it, but she doesn’t—she doesn’t buy that. She doesn’t believe that he’d just suddenly decide not to do the job he’d been so anxious to excel at. 

More damning than anything is Tim’s complete, utter silence regarding Jon’s strange behavior, but whatever he knows about it, he isn’t saying anything. Martin is willing to talk, but he seems to be as lost as she is.

“I—that first day, Jon…” Martin shrugs, shooting a nervous glance toward the door leading to the archives. He’s been spending a lot of time hovering in the break room making tea, not that she can blame him. “He—I mean obviously I don’t know him very well, but he seemed...upset?”

“Upset,” Sasha repeats dubiously.

Martin lets out an exhausted sigh and turns away, waving a dismissive hand. “Look, I’m not entirely sure how to explain it. He just—okay, so, bear with me for a second, but he reminded me of this guy who used to live in my neighborhood.”

Sasha backs off, folding her arms and leaning against the counter. “Okay?”

“There was this little old couple that used to live in my neighborhood. They were—they were really sweet! The husband used to give candy to us younger kids. But um—sometimes you’d see him sitting in the rocking chair on his porch, and it was like...he wasn’t entirely there? Like, he’d just sit there for hours, rocking and staring at nothing. That’s—that’s what Jon’s expression reminded me of.”

Martin gets more animated the more he talks, Sasha notes; his hands move in broad, sweeping gestures, his expression twisting into an expression of extreme concentration. The moment he finishes he deflates again, tucking his hands into his armpits self-consciously, a hedgehog curling protectively in on itself.

“So, yeah,” he finishes eloquently.

“Huh,” Sasha says thoughtfully.

She gets back to her desk. Looks over at Tim, who’s studiously working through a box of statements, his mouth set in a neutral, concentrated frown. Takes a deep breath, letting the taste of dust and old papers sit heavy on her tongue.

Then she opens her laptop and starts looking through the catalog of cursed items that are currently being held in Artifact Storage.

(She doesn’t think that she’ll find anything, but—but just in case.)

-0-

They all get the call the next Monday morning: Elias Bouchard was found dead in his office.

[multiplefandomsblog]

Kazuichi, Byakuya, Gundham, Rantaro, Gonta, Leon, and Toko with an ultimate Broadway actress s/o

Desc; headcanons of kazuichi, byakuya, gundham, rantaro, gonta, leon, toko with an ultimate broadway actress s/o

Warnings; i tried to make this spoiler free, fem!reader, reader uses female pronouns, i guess this takes place at hope’s peak academy? pre-tragedy?? i dont really know about the v3 boys, haven’t finished the game lmao-

Gundham:

◊ He already knows a bunch about Musicals; especially the darker ones.

◊ He thinks your Ultimate is amazing, he loves all your plays.

◊ Neither of you know which between the two of you is more dramatic.

◊ Your dramatic personalities often intertwined, merging the two of you and making you both into one huge drama queen.

◊ It gives everyone a headache as you both scream, “My toe hurts!-” “My king’s toe hurts! Someone bring an ambulance, stat!”

◊ “Someone get the fucking chlorofoam-” “Hiyoko no-”

◊ This is a bad example, but you get my point-

◊ He enjoys Shakespeare and dark love story plays/musicals.

◊ So he would definitely enjoy acting one with you on stage, if you let him.

◊ He’ll somehow incorporate his Dark Devas into the play just for an excuse to bring them with him on-stage.

◊ Once he was playing Romeo and abandoned Juliet to save Cham-P after he ran offstage to eat a sunflower seed someone dropped on the floor.

◊ Fuck Juliet, mans knows his priorities.

◊ He’s kind of a musical theatre nerd, he enjoys discussing the message behind musicals you’ve played.

◊ Throwing in some compliments about how well you perceived the character, and how pretty you looked.

◊ He is always extremely proud and amazed at your ability to sing, dance and act so well all at the same time.

◊ He believes you don’t get enough credit for doing what you do, so he makes sure you know how proud he is of you.

◊ He sometimes quotes Shakespeare or some other dark musical while you two hung out, it was kinda cute seeing him geek out like that.

◊ “As said in ‘The Merry Wives of Windsor’, Better three hours too soon than a minute too late." Gundham quoted, pride laced in his words as he was proud of remembering that. “Gundham... it’s literally 5 am in the morning, the party starts at 12 pm. Go back to sleep.” Gundham blinks and nearly falls asleep where he stood. “Mmkay.”

◊ If he saw you dress up as the witch in Wicked, he would be whipped.

◊ His evil queen? In an evil costume? A dream come true!

◊ He thinks you look absolutely fabulous and praises you a bunch after the show, telling you how pretty you looked while you acted.

Kazuichi

◊ He wouldn’t know much about musical theatre, since he’s more into machines.

◊ But when you told him to come to a play you were going to star in, he jumped at the offer.

◊ 90 minutes of you? He must be the luckiest guy in the world!(Nagito would be proud)

◊ After watching his first play, he decides he is obsessed with musical theatre now, going to all your shows.

◊ He loves all the romance based musicals, he’s a sucker for romance what can he say?

◊ He’d obsess over all your plays, going into a lot of detail about his favourtite parts.

◊ He’s kinda like, your #1 fan.

◊ He has posters of musicals you’ve starred posted around his dorm room, just a bunch of merch of you and all the musicals you starred in.

◊ When you tell him he has a backstage pass because he’s your boyfriend, he is overjoyed. 

◊ He actually trained a bit to be one of the backstage crew members.

◊ He learned how to fix your make up during intermissions, fix a loose stitch on your costume, all that good stuff.

◊ Though every time he sees your face up close for make up, he goes speechless.

◊ He wonders every time, how the hell did he get someone like you?

◊ Though his hands are shaking from how nervous he was, he still managed to make you look absolutely amazing.

◊ He’d blast a bunch of musical soundtracks while he works on his machines, screwing on and unscrewing things with a bop.

◊ I can imagine Kazuichi jamming with you in the car. The car moving violently as you two bounced to the rhythm like mad men.

◊ I think he’d get pretty insecure if he saw you with a love interest, he would think that when you two shared a staged kiss or scene, that it was actually full of love and not fake

◊ But when you cheer him up and tell him how much you love him, he realizes he was being silly over nothing.

◊ After watching many many romance musicals, you notice he gets more romantic; most likely mimicking the love interests.

◊ He is still a bit insecure, but if he does more romantic things, you’ll love him right?

◊ You enjoy the silly grand gestures of love, but you try and assure him constantly that you don’t need any of it.

◊ You only need him <3

Rantaro:

◊ w o a h

◊ He’d love the fact that you’re an actress

◊ He thinks it’s so cool like-

◊ constant fanboying after shows

◊ He’s always bringing you flowers once you’re off the stage, showering you with praises and affections

◊ He’s literally so proud of you wtf??

◊ i think he’d be the type to show you off a lot

◊ “Hey you!” He points at a naked passerby(this is an inside joke, i am so sorry), “Guess what? My girlfriend’s a Broadway actress!” “Rantaro stop, people are staring-” “Are they? hEY YOU! YEAH, YOU STARING!! MY GIR-”

◊ if you ever started spitting out hamilton raps, he’d be the one beatboxing in the back ground for you.

◊  “Pshh, packow, psshh psshh, packow!” “How does a bastard, orphan, son of a-” 

◊ you two would jam out to musical soundtracks in your dorm, dancing dramatically as you did.

◊ you two kinda become like a duo of musical theatre kids.

◊ if you stood on a table and started belting lyrics, he would hop on and join you

◊ unless it was a solo, he would never steal your thunder.

◊ if you ever felt a bit nervous before a big show, he would assure you that’d you’d do great and tell you how much he believed in you until you felt better.

◊ he’s your charger before and after a big show.

◊ if you felt exhausted from acting and dancing around the stage, he’s always there to give you what you need most.

◊ whether it’s water, food, flowers, or just him and his cuddles, he always has it ready for you.

◊ the most recent musical soundtrack that you’ve played will be stuck in his head.

◊ For example, if you recently played in Hairspray, ‘Mama, I’m a big girl now!’ will be stuck in his head until the next play he watches.

◊ you’d catch him humming it during everything he does, 

◊ and it’s actually so fricking adorable.

◊ if you heard him sing a familiar tune, you would hum along with him.

◊ “Hmm, mmwhen I was, just a kid ♪” 

◊ Your ears perked up at the familiar tune, slowly you turned around to face him.

◊ “♪....You never let me do just what the older kids did…♪” You joined in quietly, Rantaro whipped his head towards you, a rising smile on his face.

◊ “♪ But lose that laundry list of what you won't allow ♪,” His voice rose slowly in excitement, pointing at you with a big grin across his face.

◊ And at the same time, you both sang obnoxiously loud, as if it was rehearsed, “♪ 'Cause mama, I'm a big girl now! ♪” Running to each other with excitement, 

◊ You let out a fit of giggles as Rantaro picked you up, “MY WIFE, PLEASE BE MY WIFE!” 

◊ This is how you two met and you can’t tell me otherwise-

Gonta:

◊ Gonta wouldn’t know much about Broadway musicals- which to you, a broadway actress, was unacceptable!

◊ so you made it your mission to get him to watch as many musicals as he possibly can.

◊ You’d tell him to come to all your plays, him excitedly agreeing despite not knowing what a play is.

◊ You’d do extra good knowing that Gonta was in the crowd watching you, wanting to give him the best first experience with musicals.

◊ He’d applaud at the end of every scene, trying to show his support the best he can.

◊ for his first play he watches, he ends up clapping a bit too early.

◊ he cheered and applauded super loud when he saw you on stage, but stopped when he realized everyone was staring at him.

◊ Though it was a bit embarrassing for both you and him, you felt your heart flutter at how his first instinct was to clap for you when you walked in stage.

◊ You’d introduce him to various musicals, beauty and the beast being his favourite.

◊ He definitely starts to obsess over the more ‘gentlemanly’ characters.

◊ his first impressions of the beast were bad; Denying that old lady shelter? How ungentlemanly!!

◊ so when the dude got cursed, he cheered lmao

◊ but as he kept watching, he could see the beast wasn’t too bad. 

◊ The beast had some flaws, but he obviously cared for belle, he thought.

◊ Oh but he hated Gaston, he really really hated him.

◊ If you acted with someone who played Gaston(and you as belle), he would have to hold back and not rip his face off every time Gaston said something idiotic or sexist.

◊ He had to keep reminding himself that, that Gaston wasn’t real(and thank god for that, real gaston would’ve been torn to shreds.)

◊ the dancing scene was his favourite part for sure.

◊ He’s sad he doesn’t get to play beast with you, but he still enjoys the scene nonetheless.

◊ something cute I can imagine him doing is surprising you by dressing up in a prince costume from the musical and asking you for a dance. 

◊ It’s the cutest thing ever oml-

◊ It’s such a beautiful moment, you two just dancing together in a random room with no care in the world.

◊ Your arms wrapped his extravagant costume and his arms wrapped around your pj’s.

◊ He’s a bit shy to be so close to you, but he tries his best to be confident and as princely as he could so he pushes his anxiety aside.

◊ As his stomach fills with butterflies, he becomes slightly confused and concerned, ‘Did Gonta eat butterflies??’ He slightly panics-

◊ ‘Those poor butterflies!!’

◊ He’d watch a lot of videos on how to ballroom dance in advance for this moment.

◊ He’s actually not that bad!

◊ Well- as long as you dance with your feet on his, so he doesn’t crush your toes.

◊ If you ever did some beauty and the beast scenes for him, he would be so happy. 

◊ He’d be even happier if you let him play the beast with you.

◊ He’d be smiling the entire time during a fight/sad/serious practice scene.

◊ *almost gets stabbed* “Haha oh no!” 

◊ When you sing during one of the scenes, he kinda just-

◊ becomes a puddle of a gentleman.

◊ his heart melts and disintegrates(haha what) of love for you. 

◊ he absolutely loves your voice, and would beg for you to sing him one of the soundtracks from beauty and the beast before bed.

◊ He’s really proud of all your plays, and is extremely happy that you–of all people–are his girlfriend.

Byakuya Togami

◊ In all honesty, he thinks your ultimate isn’t all that great.

◊ But as he watches one of your plays, his mind ultimately(see what i did there?) changes.

◊ He becomes impressed and dazzled from how passionate you look when you act, not noticing how you had him sitting on the edge of his seat.

◊ After watching you act, he literally cannot watch another play unless you are in it, finding it unworthy of his time and money.

◊^^this is before you two got together,

◊ you two got together after you found him in your crowd, applauding like the rest of them with the same bewildered expression on his face.

◊ You confronted him and he attempted to compliment your acting, but he accidentally let his feelings for you slip out instead, “I find you truly captivating- Wait no, I-I meant your plays. Your plays, they are truly captivating.” You watched in amusement as he stumbled with his words, eventually interrupting him with an, “Are you available right now?”

◊ So yeah, eventually you two get together, and good for Togami! Because now he doesn’t have to secretly applaud you as a fan, he can applaud you whenever and as your lover.

◊ After shows, he’d give you a single rose as a congrats or applause (so romantic!)

◊ If you ever decided to be chaotic and start belting out lyrics, he would just sigh and let you finish.

◊ Very rarely, you would catch him humming a small tune of a musical song you sang.

◊ But very very rarely. If you ever catch him and confront him about it, he will deny it completely.

◊ I think he’d probably like the more serious plays, he enjoys the meanings and emotions of them more than the sillier and playful ones.

◊ If he ever watched Mean Girls, he would start to slightly mimic Regina George.

◊ “Byakuya wha-” “Get in peasant, we’re going shopping.” 

◊ It’d be lowkey hot when you hear him sass you like Regina George tho-

◊ He’d have more big dick energy after watching Mean Girls, emitting his dominance to everyone.

◊ Makoto during a class trial: “So we know that she was at the scene of the crime, right?” “Shut up.” Byakuya flipped his imaginary long hair as Makoto stares at him in confusion, silence filling the room. “Shut up!” “I didn’t even say anything-”

◊ “The new motive is going to be-!” “Whatever, I’m getting cheese fries a book.” Byakuya sighed, turning on his heels and catwalking away.

◊ ...

◊ “IT’S PUNISHMENT TIME-!” “MONOKUMA WAIT NO-”

Leon

◊ Would go to every one of your shows.

◊ Would act like an absolute mom in the crowd.

◊*holding a video camera* You’re doing great sweetie!.

◊”That’s my girl!”

◊ You’d get embarrassed every time he does that.

◊ Hypes you up when you get nervous before going on stage.

◊ In back stage, he’d praise you and give you a bouquet of flowers.

◊ Where did they come from? When did he have time to get flowers when he was yelling in the crowed??

◊ Helps you rehearse lines even if he has no idea what they’re about.

◊ Will fight anyone that makes mean comments towards you.

◊ Even if it’s just constructive criticism, he will take it as an insult.

◊ “Hey s/o! You did great! Maybe next time you could-”

◊ Leon: “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY PUNK!? DO YOU KNOW WHO SHE IS?! I HAVE FRICKING ARMS OF STEEL, I WILL-”

◊ Will take every chance to pick you up and call you a queen.

◊ When you guys watch other plays together, he always says how you’d play a better role or that you’d do so much better.

◊ He is pretty jealous of your talent, he has always wanted to be a singer instead of a baseball star, but his ultimate wouldn’t allow that.

◊ So if you let him sing some musical song duets with you, his heart will be so full.

◊ You make him so happy, he almost breaks into cries.

◊ You two of weekly karoake nights, always singing some Heather’s duet together.

◊ One time, you, Sayaka and Leon sang the Candy Store song, Leon being Heather Chandler, Sayaka as Heather Duke, and you as Heather McNamara.

◊ It was... amazing.

◊ Everyone was cheering, clapping and it praising all of you.

◊ You made Leon feel alive, and he really, really loves you for that.

Toko

◊ She loves your ultimate, and fangirls over you a bunch.

◊ She’s amazed at your confidence to go up in stage, knowing she could never do that.

◊ She thinks your confidence is kinda hot, and decides she is in love.

◊ Likes to add a character in her books that are a lot like you, maybe making them a broadway actress-

◊ She thinks about you a lot, sometimes accidentally blurting out how pretty you were in your last performance in front of everybody.

◊ You confronted her for it, and she almost passed out.

◊ “W-w-why d-do you think t-t-that? D-d-do you th-think you’re b-better than m-me or so-something?” 

◊ You already know her and her inferiority complex, so you don’t take offence to what she said, simply replying with, “I think you’re really cute.”

◊ Toko goes silent, except for a few “!??!??” noises that came out of her.

◊ “... U-uh, a-are you j-joking, be-because that isn’t f-funny!” She flushes, denying that you complimented her.

◊ “I’m not joking, here’s my number! Call me, kay?” You grinned before turning on your heel.

◊ She’s kinda dumbfounded, did her crush just ask her out??

◊ She denies it hard at first, not believing that you asked her out.

◊ Thus, not calling you.

◊ Well, I mean, she kinda did.

◊ She dialed your number one day, feeling a bit lonely.

◊ But as she heard your morning voice, she squeaked and hung up quickly.

◊ She felt her face turn into a fireball, her thoughts going into overdrive from how attractive your voice sounded.

◊ Your voice, she was attracted to your voice.

◊ The next day, when you ask her about what that call was about, she denies it and calls you stupid.

◊ Sprinting away while she screamed, “I-i-idiot!!”

◊ Acts like an absolute tsundere around you.

◊ You constantly flirt with her, trying to get her to accept a date with you.

◊ Being the dramatic hoe you are, you try and give her a declaration of your love.

◊ Knowing she is the Ultimate Writer, and into poems, you write one for her.

◊ You declared your love during one of your plays, knowing she sat in the crowd somewhere.

◊ You interrupted a scene and jumped off stage, “Toko Fukawa!”

◊ Her head perked up in surprise, eyes widening as she saw you on one knee for her.

◊ “W-what are you d-doing!?” She yelped, moving her legs away from you. 

◊ “I am in love with you. Completely and utterly in love with you, everyday when I see you so immersed in writing a book, I believe I am looking at an angel.”

◊ The crowd stared at the both of you, gasps and aws filling the air.

◊ Toko flushed, you watched her while she wrote?

◊ “For every time you’ve told me I was a fool, an idiot, you weren’t wrong. Because I am a fool, a fool in love with you.” You had one had on your chest, looking into her eyes sincerely.

◊ Her eyes glossed over so slightly you couldn’t see, looking around at the crowd before uttering out, “Y-y-you r-really love m-me, h-huh?” Her face contorting into a lopsided smirk, watching as you giggled.

◊ You laughed out, “Absolutely.” 

◊ WHY DID THIS TURN INTO A ONESHOT WHAT WHY WHAT WHYYY

note; thank you so much for reading and sorry for the wait!! we tried our best to finish these together, thank you so much for your patience.

[apolloluver69]

Some tweets from my twitter!

i just compiled some of my tweets that have to do with Pollo, Hya, etc.!

u can see why i sometimes draw things the way i do! each ‘-’ is like a new subject!

have fun reading 🌞

-i just got a big brain idea: hyacinthus had a fear of heights bc of the times zephyrus scoops him to the sky and harasses him but he was able to over come it by climbing the mountains with apollo

apollo discovers the ptsd when he tried to take hya for a ride on his cloud.. pollo took off fast trying to show off hya but hya was hugging him real tight, face completely stuffed in pollo's back.. pollo thought it was cute until he noticed the shaking

hya looks up, his eyes watery and pollo's like oh shit.. pollo immediately goes does and hya takes off(he doesnt feel comfortable telling yet bc zeph and pollo r gods) then blah blah stuff happens pollo and hya get back together

they do all the hunting, music, games stuff together, climbing the mountains every few times until one day they both finally climbed to the top, enjoy scenery, AND BOOM first kiss and after that hya goes to hyperborea with pollo, gets his own swan, etc.

-guys.. i was doing more reading and remember how i talked about hya's fear of heights.. theres a description of a painting with pollo extending his hand for hya to join him on the chariot drawn by swansand hya's also holding a spear (a hint of hya's spear skills perhaps?

-just realized how sparta got people so pretty gods fight bc of them (helen and hya..

-What if the reason apollo didnt marry hya is bc he learned that in spartan marriage, the brides shaved their head

-thinking about how hya having dumb and pure thoughts just makes apollo fall in love with him more bc he can read minds HDYDKHFDHDHJD

-notice how none of the hya and apollo stories dont mention that they did boxing together.. 

hya: we should try boxing together! 

apollo: oh im a pro! I've been boxing since i was a few days old! im basically the god of boxing! lemme practice a little before we start! 

 apollo: *gets up and starts doing light hoping and throws 1 punch infront of a tree* [pause] [theres a gush of wind and tree slowly cracks and breaks in half, crashing down] 

hya: nevermind! 😃

-hya wanted to do EVERYTHING with apollo, so i imagine hya gets some scratches and marks on his body everytime he adventures with apollo

- i believe apollo sucked most of the nutrients in the womb, hence making artemis short

i think he sucked all of her intimate desires too LMAO

-ive come to the conclusion that apollo has a big smile on his face everytime hes about to kill/really pissed bc if u look at the apollo of veii, hes actually trying to get the golden stag back from Hercules n he has a scary smile(ok it maybe the way they made statues but WHATEVR)

and in the Phorbas boxing match, before he delivered the deadly blow, it said he had a smile mingled in wrath lol so: the sun can't kill you if its not shining bright

-It makes sense to have apollo be the tallest god in Olympus bc he represents the sun and its the biggest thing of the solar system!!..... and artemis being the smallest... bcs shes earths little moon......

- Asking apollo and artemis what their body count is, they'll both be high numbers but very different meanings

- Remember when i talked about apollo smiling when hes angry.. yknow what other animals smile/shine theyre teeth when angry.. wolves/dogs

- Applying for hyperborean citizenship so i can become part of the biggest apollo fanclub

- shoutout to the cult of apollo who learned about hyacinthus the spring deity and then immediately decided to make him apollo's boyfriend

- hya at times butting heads with hermes bc he has a stronger sense of justice than apollo

- even tho hes ageless, i like to think apollo changes himself to look older/bigger bc of the countless times people thinks he's his kids' sibling or bf and plus makes him more fatherly

- i wanna ask some Phoenicians who they think was the lucky guy that knocked up apollo

-SPEAKING OF STRINGS. when the apollo ebook( Apollo by fritz graf ) said apollo uses strings to either bring joy(lyre) or death(bow) my pea brain was BLOWN

-Normal people after reading tsoa: wow p*trochilles otp 

Me after tsoa: apollo.... hot..

Worst part is miller doesnt even like apollo  so she wasnt even trying to make him appealing😭

- Went thur many iliads to see Homer really did call apollo the best of the gods AND HES NOT FUCKING WRONG !!!!! I liked the one calling him matchless bc i dont think he's ever been defeated?? (Except emotionally lol

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Laid out cold, now we're both alone (part 2)

A/N: Hello, this fic is very important to me because I tried my best to give justice to such a cool idea and I hope I did a good job. Plus I don't do multichapter ofter, so this was a challenge. 

I wanna thank the lovely @livdonna for proofreading my work, you're literally the best <3. 

P.S. If you want to get tagged in the next chapters, let me know.

Summary: Nikki visits Mick to give him a very important task.

Warnings: Major Character Death,Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug Use, Angst, Overdose.

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee

Chapter 1

Taglist: @slashscowboyboots @witchytombstonesmile @arnold-layne @emometalhead​ @i-dont-like-rice​ @nikki-sexx​ @smokeandmirrorz​

Mick was supposed to not give a shit about Nikki. He and the stupid drummer had tormented him and his wife for months on ends, making the whole tour a living hell and he didn’t need to have even more things to worry about. So what if his bassist decided to get addicted to heroin? He was a fucking dumbass but it wasn’t his problem.  He would end up killing himself and it wasn’t like Mick could have done something, not when his whole body was torturing him.

The only problem was that he cared, deep down. He cared about the fucker and hearing the news that he was gone forever hit him.  He lost one of his friends and the band all together in a day, what would have happened? He hated to admit he was scared about the future, it was hard to imagine Motley Crue without Nikki.

He sighed, turning off yet another discussion about his death. They didn’t call him yet but something was telling him that they had to release a statement soon.  Doc was probably freaking out somewhere crying for all his millions of dollars lost.

“Fucking Nikki, you had to die at the worst moment, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… sorry about that, man” A voice incredibly similar to Nikki said, making Mick jump up.

Nikki didn’t feel anything, one moment they were in the ambulance and the other they were on the beach.  He was confused for a moment before he remembered that Mick had a beach house, and stared at it for a bit. He didn’t know much about the guitarist, maybe almost nothing but he respected him so much.  He was one of the strongest dudes he had ever met.

The weirdest thing about all of this was probably how he was only able to feel certain things, no cravings or sand under his feet as he was walking, yet he would still feel guilt, fear, love, worry… it didn’t make sense but he wasn’t in the mood to question the universe’s rules.

People can’t see you until you decide to show yourself. You have to remember or otherwise they can’t hear or see you.

The voice still freaked him out, but at the same time he was grateful for it to be there… it made him feel less alone, which was great considering how he felt lonely for his entire life.

“You’re not alone Nikki, I’ll always be there with you, through highs and lows”

“God it sounds like a marriage vow, T-Bone”

“Well if I could I’d marry now…”

He shook his head, trying to get the memory out.  It wasn’t the time to be sentimental and risk fucking everything up, so he walked ( more like flew) through the front door and found Mick sitting on the couch.

“Fucking Nikki, you had to die at the worst moment, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… sorry about that, man”. The bassist hoped that he was heard, otherwise it would have been pretty embarrassing.

Mick visibly jumped at hearing Nikki’s voice and quickly turned around to look at him.  From his widened eyes and confused expression, he knew he probably looked fucking transparent.

“Okay first of all why the hell are you here talking to me if you’re dead? Then why the fuck can I see myself through you ?”

The black haired man just realized that he had no idea how to explain everything and be believed, he just went along with whatever the voice in his head was saying, but now it was different. He fumbled with his hand and realized he couldn’t feel them, while he tried to come up with the best way to explain to his friend how he was a ghost and why he was there.

“I died… I have no idea how I came back but I have unfinished business and I need to talk to you!”

The guitarist looked at him up and down, clearly skeptical.  However, there wasn’t much arguing… Nikki’s ghost was literally standing in front of him.

“Okay I have no idea if this is a dream, I’m dead or in a coma, or simply I drank too much but now I’ll grab some vodka and you’ll spill your little secrets as you like”.

Nikki smiled a bit… He honestly felt normal for the first time since he was brought back.  Having Mick joking was so familiar, usually Tommy was the aim of his jokes and they all laughed because they were all so unexpected…

Tommy. Thinking about him still hurt, again he wondered if he was okay and how much he missed him… but it wasn’t his time now.  He had other things to talk about as Mick came back into the living room with his glass.

“Mick… you gotta promise me that you won’t let Motley Crue die, that you will fight to keep the band’s legacy.”

The older man looked at him surprised, rolling his eyes.

“Well that’s a bit hard when our bassist and songwriter died!”

Rage and resentment were heavy in his voice but there was more : fear and sadness. Nikki felt guilty and he fucking hated it, it was so unlike him but he couldn’t help it… Mick cared about the band as much as he did.  He always said the band was his life, before heroin came into the picture, but it was also Mick’s and he probably destroyed everything.

“You will find another one, another bassist who is also a songwriter…” The words felt so foreign coming from his mouth.  They even hurt a bit but they were necessary.

“I know you care about this band as much as I do, Mick. I know how much you’ve worked your ass off in shitty bands, trying to find the one that was going to break… I might be dead but Crue can’t have the same fate”.

Mick scoffed, taking a long sip of his vodka.

“It’s not easy, it’s not like we can find the perfect match like we did. Plus, everyone will probably hate him for replacing you!”

The frustration was almost tangible, but there was something else… Mick was scared, he knew everything was about to fade away because of Nikki’s actions, he was already looking at the boat sinking. Nikki started to panic because his band had to live, even in his death! It was pointless and selfish but that was the only thing people could remind him of.

“If you give up, then Vince and Tommy will do the same! I know that you think no one will take you, but the truth is they will. Crue is what it is because of our vision, you are part of it and I’m asking you to keep it going. Think of this as my dying man’s wish… even if I’m already dead”

The older man’s grip on his glass got tighter, his eyes lost in thought as he was pondering Nikki’s words. It was hard to take in, hell that was an understatement, it was fucking insane and probably wouldn’t work but the bassist needed to have this false hope.

“It’s so fucking weird, you know? To realize you’re fucking dead yet here talking to me.”

He was deflecting, Nikki knew it, but didn’t want to push it too far. He learned to know Mick, he kept his promises and he was a hard worker and with a good dose of luck and jokes, you got him to your side.

“Yeah, do you remember how I said you weren’t going to make it in that interview? Well, karma hits like a bitch!”

“Mick might not make it , he drinks a little too much and it looks rough” Mick quoted, trying to imitate Nikki’s voice.

“Yeah and then you said something like I heard what you said and you’re dead, fuck I guess you were right” He laughed but Mick didn’t.

Oh c’mon so what if he was joking about his death? It’s not like anyone really cared about him.  They just saw him as a burden, which he was. Not his mom, nor his band or his Tommy would have really missed him… they would eventually move on.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” He said annoyed but his lips formed a small smile.

“I know, I know. Mick… please promise me that. If Crue is going to end, then my whole life didn’t mean anything! Ple…” He stopped himself, he was so fucking close to begging but he couldn’t. Nikki Sixx didn’t fucking beg, not in life or death.

“I’m thinking about it!”

He really meant the first part. He spent all his teenage and adult years creating the band of his dreams and making sure they conquered the world.  This band was his escape; his attempt at redemption after his shitty childhood. Nobody loved Frank Feranna but he didn’t care, he would become Nikki Sixx and be super fucking famous!

He didn’t need anyone’s love, except that he did.

“ I love you, Nikki.”

“ No you don’t, nobody does, T-Bone”

“Well I fucking do. You gotta pass on my dead body before you’ll hear me not saying it over and over”

His heart might have stopped, but he still felt the big wave of nostalgia hitting him. He couldn’t do it, he would have never been ready to see him again.

“Okay, I will. But listen to me, it won’t be easy and I’m an old man with a fucked up back, so don’t send demons against me if I fail!” The little spark of determination in his eyes relaxed Nikki, he was on board.

“I fucking knew you were the best, Mars! If I wasn’t dead I’d probably tattoo your face on me as a thank you!”

“Oh gross, never say that again!” He pretended to be disgusted but his eyes betrayed him, the small softness in them told Nikki he felt touched.

“Who knows, maybe in hell they have tattoos for the ghosts. God we used to hate each other and now we are two peas in a pod.”

“I still hate you.”

“Ugh, you crushed my heart Mick”

The guitarist flipped him off, rolling his eyes. Nikki desperately wanted to keep talking, if he did then he could have pretended nothing changed, right? He didn’t have to face Vince and Tommy and go through the light… everything would have stayed the same or he could fool himself that it would.

I think it’s time to go to the next person.

The voice was demanding yet still calm. Nikki knew that he couldn’t stay forever, they had to prevent spirits from just lingering into the real world like that, it made him a bit angry but he understood it. It wasn’t like he could have done much anyway…He was just a shell of what he used to be.

“I gotta go Mick…” He wanted to punch himself because he sounded so fucking pathetic, but the other man gave him a compassionate smile.

What he fuck are you, a little small puppy? Oh look Frankie is scared to leave his illusion of a family.

Mick walked him to the other without saying anything, but before turning the handle, which was pointless because Nikki could have just passed through the door, he broke the silence.

“Try to give us some signs, okay? Show us that you’re there… but don’t you fucking dare spill my vodka or I’ll make you two times dead!”

“Oh that’s exactly what I’ll do, thanks for the suggestion!”

He stepped outside and looked at Mick one last time.

“You promised, alien. You gotta do it!”

“Yeah yeah, you better repay me when I come to join you there…” And with one last look, Mick closed the door.

Nikki felt all of the weight crushing down on his body, even if it was made of air. He simply stood still, his mind racing like a freight train, trying to take everything in but also getting ready for his next move… being overwhelmed was an understatement, he felt peeled down like an orange and this was only the beginning. He felt like a fucking coward but he just wanted to get over it, was it that bad to accept his fate and disappear without facing anyone?

You are going to abandon him again? You know why you need to talk to Vince, and you know this will be your last chance to see him, asshole!

He went to kick the sand, but he couldn’t touch it. God, how frustrating was that!

So where are we going next?

Nikki would have wanted to scream at him, give him the middle finger and just run away but it wouldn’t have been helpful, would it? So he forced himself to be as neutral as possible.

“Vince Neil. Take me to his house.”

[magpiie]

Kidnapped by Baby Yoda pt. 3

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

hey guys pls lmk what you think and be honest!!! thank you so much for 80 notes holy fucking shit wowie 

It's weird one day you're assisting teaching a class to a bunch of miscellaneous alien children on nevarro hating your life, and the next you're stuck on a ship with a mandalorian and his foundling who inexplicably decided he needed you to come.

“I'm going to talk to him today kid, believe me” you said to the lump of wool perched on your knee. Mando was out doing maker knows what, and you were left alone with the little guy like always. His big eyes gazed at you dubiously as if to say suuuuure. The amount of judgmental bitchy energy he could produce sometimes was astounding. “No really, i've been living here for what, uh 3 weeks maybe? And all we've really said to each other was the initial greeting and uh the exchange of names?” The last part trails off as you realize you don't even know his name. You said yours but he responded with telling you to call him Mando. So you didn't push it. You dont know alot about mandalorians considering they are almost extinct and their beliefs are often made to seem like folklore. But you do know that individualism and identity is not something particularly celebrated. So you decided to leave the amount of information he wants to share with you up to him out of respect. So far that's been none. “So, kid, how'd you break through his shell? He likes you?” the child just blinks unhelpfully. “I mean you never talk to him, but i've tried that and we saw how that went” literally radio silence from him. You don't particularly think of yourself as an extrovert who constantly needs interaction but you do need some. And currently you have the kid as a companion and if you didn't know any better you'd say Mando was a droid with how he acts. You also resolved that you needed to help out more. Basically you were a glorified babysitter and the idea that Mando was going to realize that he was better off without you on his ship as deadweight terrified you. You were a good cook, I guess you could say, but Mando always brought food back with him when he went out and then would hide in his room to eat in privacy. So that's not very helpful. The main thing that you could offer him was medical help. Back on Nevarro growing up you were the youngest of three older brothers. And considering your mother wasnt really in the picture, you had to take up the doctor role for the amount of fights three older boys could get into. You knew how to treat basically any external damage and how to sterilize and limit risk of infection. But how would you ever bring that up to mando if you guys didn't even greet each other in the mornings? Sometimes you would try to talk to him with something as simple as “good morning!” or “welcome back” or “night” or even just a simple “hey” sometimes he would bless you with a monosyllabic grunt but never anything more. But hey, you would take what you would get. After a week of this call and no response bullshit you kinda gave up and have spent the last two weeks in silence other than your episode this morning with the “good morning” fiasco. You feel your mortification settle back into your stomach at the fool you made of yourself. “Maker above, mando must hate me.” sometimes you wondered if he regretted asking you to come. But he doesn't really seem like the type of person to let you stay if you annoyed him. “Ok bug, here's the plan. What im gonna do is i will say hey when he comes back, sound good?” you look for confirmation from the creature and he gives you a slight tilt of his chin. Satisfied you continue, “and i will uhm say good night and good morning every day until he responds or tells me to shut up.” you finish with a huff of breath. This will either end with you finally finally getting to have real human interaction or left on some random ass planet god knows where.     

Mando makes his way back to ship feeling the pebbles crunch beneath the heavy sole of his boot. This planet was a desert planet much like nevarro, he wondered if you missed home. Mean no shit she's probably homesick dumbass he thinks its not like he was doing anything to make the ship feel welcoming. Like talking to you. But you made the ship feel like a home for the kid and that's more than he could ever want. You probably didn't realize how much what you were doing meant to him. You made the kid happy, you were giving him something that mando never could, a mother figure. Mando tried his hardest to be what he thought was a father for the kid but it was hard. He had to go and work and it wasn't safe to bring a kid so he was often swept around to different planets and left for hours by himself waiting for mando to come back and it was hard on mando. But you, now you were there. And the kid was always safe with you. He should probably teach you some self defense he thought considering how dangerous being associated with him was especially considering you needed to protect the child. But honestly, mando had no idea if you knew how to protect yourself, you might, space is a dangerous world. He only knew that you were a teacher but that was it. Slightly alarming that he implicitly trusted you without any prior knowledge of you or your credentials. You could be a bounty hunter assigned to kill him for all he knew, or to steal the kid, but you probably would have done that by now. Mando didn't know what made you trustworthy to him. You just were. And that terrified him. 

You're sitting in the cockpit with the child pretending to fly the ship as he gurgles happily in your lap. you giggle at the little guy and make finger guns and pretend to shoot an imaginary monster outside the window, “i'm the most fearsome bounty hunter in the guild,” the child lets out a particularly loud noise at that, “uhhh yes i am dont laugh at me, i am feared far and wide across the galaxy,” you tickle his sides with that one. youre so into playing with the kid you don't realize mando was back and is staring at you from the entryway to the cockpit. “You think i could take on your daddy, bug? You think it'd beat him in a shootout? Huh?” you say with your fingers poised and ready at the window.

“Not a chance,” says a deep voice that vibrates into the floor. You let out an embarrassing startled shriek and feel your heart do twenty somersaults and settle in your feet. The child screams at the interruption and immediately wiggles out of your grasp and waddles to Mando giddily. 

“I-i i was uh joking, really i was,” you stutter out cringing at the incredulous tone your voice comes out as. Remembering your resolve to talk to him you continue on even though you feel like you might throw up your breakfast from nerves. “He misses you during the day,” gesturing to the child, “so i pretend to be you” you finish realizing that sounds super fucking creepy, “well not like- you- like- you,  but i pretend to like uh pilot the ship and uh shoot um things?” you ramble lamely. A huff sounds from the mandalorian and if you allowed yourself to think wishfully it was laughter. 

“Doesn't surprise me. Before you he came everywhere with me.” you feel your eyebrows raise. Everywhere? Shit. 

“Must've been difficult to complete jobs and have to keep track of him,” you say nodding your head towards the little lump of brown wool. Mando offers you an affirmative grunt before setting the child down and turning on his heel towards the fresher. So that was an improvement, you think. Got ten whole words out of him. You feel a grin split your face. Hopefully this means you are past the dancing around each other relationship. And maker above, his voice, wow. If only you could wake up to that every morning. Deep and melodic. You wonder how deep and gravelly it sounds in the mornings. Or how your name would sound tumbling off his lips in pleasure. Nope. not going down that path. That is NOT platonic thoughts. You literally had your first conversation with him since the first day you met him and you're already thinking about that? Seriously pull yourself together. You don't even know what he looks like, or how old he is. Like what if he's like 70. And really ugly. What if your having sex dreams about someone like your grandpa. Ew. Your face contorts at the thought of Mando looking like your grandpa. Okay gross stop. You need to get to know him. Have civil conversations. Push down the gross thoughts. Even if his voice sounds like honey. And home. 

You're sitting in the chair behind the pilot seat reading a random book Mando left out on the scattered floor. Its some type of mechanical manual so its truly riveting. Note the sarcasm. The child's asleep, and seeing as though mando is cooped up in his room this book is better than twiddling your thumbs mindlessly. You decided that if you were going to stay on mandos ship you should at least try to pick up some mechanic skills. Better than the rudimentary at best you had at the present moment. You knew how to fix blatant errors in engines and how to reconnect wires if the instructions were explained thoroughly and very slowly. Okay maybe you didn't really know anything past engines. But that was better than nothing? Kinda? You sigh closing the book after rereading the same sentences about pre-imperial versus post-imperial hyperdrives. Maker what was the difference? The both made the ship go super fast or something? Was that the hyperdrive? You shook your head feeling the thought start to culminate into a downward spiral of what a hyperdrive truly was. You looked around the cluttered hull and decided that you should probably occupy yourself by cleaning up the mess. Mando might appreciate it, it'll also make you less of a deadweight on the ship. It was crazy how much shit one man and his child could accumulate on one tiny ship. You don't think you had ever seen this many small metal bowls in one place. The stack currently in the corner probably contained about 12. In what universe would 2 creatures ever need the same bowls 12 times. Well you guess now it's three. The thought filled your chest with a balloon of warmth only to be popped by the realization that you weren't part of the little family mando and the child were. At best you were a business associate. The kids stand in caregiver. Babysitter.

 The realization that you didn't have anyone to call family at your disposal fell heavy on your shoulders. Sinking you into the corner of the hull. You dont think youve ever felt more alone. In the cold corner of the hull with a hand pressed to your chest in an attempt to quell your ragged breaths.  Like a small raft cast into the oceanic expanse of space. If you drowned, who would notice? Certainly not your family, they were maker knows where, probably light years away. You didn't even know what sector you were in anymore. What would your father think of your decision to leave nevarro? You hadn't seen him in a while but you remembered the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. And how he would hug you after a long day. Hold you like you were still his little girl. The craving for a warm embrace from a solid body slammed into you with all the force of a meteor. Leaving you stunned and lost. You briefly wondered how mando coped. How did he deal with the overwhelming feeling of loneliness?  How did he leave his guild? Did he miss them? Were they like a family? Did he think about them often? How did he cope with the lack of touch? Or did he not think about it at all? Did he not need it? Was he so disconnected from the world through his beskar that he couldn't remember the feeling of someone's fingers on his skin? Etching a path with the searing heat they exuded. Hearing approaching footsteps you attempt to pull yourself together. Regulate your breathing, get rid of tear tracks and lose the flush coloring your face. You could do this. As he rounded the corner he stopped. You peered up at him from your curled up position on the floor and offered him a smile that felt unconvincing even on your lips. He tilted his head slightly at you and made his way cautiously to where you were. He bent slightly and offered a brown leather clad hand to you. For a second the only sound heard was the faint crackle of his breathing in his helmet. You could see him faltering. Here he was offering you comfort in your clearly distressed state and you were pointedly ignoring it. You laced your fingers with his and nearly doubled over from the strength he exuded into pulling you up. As soon as you were fairly steady on your feet you marveled at your hand shocked by the warmth creeping through the leather of the glove permeating into your palm. He sighed, a deep release of tension from his shoulders followed. “What's wrong?” he said, his hand still lazily grasping your fingers. You looked at him, what was wrong?

“How do you do it?” you said echoing his words from your first meeting to him. his thumb dragged a slow line along your wrist. When he didn't respond you added, “how are you okay with being alone?” if you could see his face you would say he looked taken aback. He released your hand.

“I'm not.” he offered. Confused as to which question he was answering you remained silent hoping to prompt him to continue. He started again, “I'm not alone, not truly. I have him.” he gestured vaguely to his sleeping quarters where the kid slept. He rubbed the back of his neck, 

“And neither are you.”

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Intense Years)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is 16-17, also ive really never written anything about team iron man so this was weird, someone needs to tell me i dont need every single movie detail in here

prompt: takes place from cacw and smhc

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Aftermath (4) Continued (5)

after the events in sokovia, you set up the relief fund for displaced sokovians and dealt with physical clean up while the avengers...

well, they had to deal with the press—and the governments of the world

getting to know your new suit AI, JOSHUA

briefly looking for bruce; no luck there

you ended up doing the MIT september foundation presentation with tony

and ending the presentation after pepper’s name popped up on the screen

“it’s probably best we get out of here”

you were his entire support system while he was going through his break with pepper

meeting charles spencer’s mother, who really gave your dad a piece of her mind

“my son died, but your daughter gets to live on. if you lost her, maybe you’d show some sympathy for murdering my child”

*awkward silence from you*

*awkward silence from tony otw to the compound*

HATING the sound of the sokovia accords, yet understanding why they’re being ratified

being torn between signing them or not and having a huge argument with the other avengers

“y/n, why dont you listen to your dad for once and sign the damn thing”

“uncle rhodey, you know why i dont want to sign. if they have us, they have access to our suits. you really think the UN should be telling us how to use them?”

“your defense doesn’t even make sense. i had the war machine or iron patriot or whatever the hell you want to call it, but the military was calling the shots”

“and look where you are now”

“right, well i wouldn’t expect a kid to understand”

“are you kidding me, rhodes? you’re gonna play the ‘im older than you’ card?”

comforting wanda while she feared being taken

and as soon as you heard about what happened in lagos

“think about it, maximoff. if you didnt do what you did, do you know how many more casualties there may have been?”

“but i killed innocents”

“no, rumlow killed innocents. you contained that blast better than anyone else could have and you prevented a whole bunch of deaths, give yourself some credit”

okay, so you weren’t the best at talking someone down while they were upset

staying in berlin with your father while the whole bucky thing began to get sorted out

but he sent you out to stay with nat while he had some “private time” with steve

tony keeping you close to him during the power outage at the base

until it turned out you brought your suit and tony did not!

everyone was looking at you to take down bucky, but it just seemed like a bad idea, you didn’t want to hurt him because you didn’t want to hurt steve

stalling to try and buy steve time to subdue his friend

“y/n, come on, for christ sake!”

“got it, dad! i know what im doing!”

“i dont think you do!”

feeling your stomach drop when bucky shot into your dad’s hand, if it wasn’t for his latest invention, he may have gotten seriously hurt

you had a slight change of heart after that, you couldn’t bare to lose your dad. not after all those close calls...

getting yelled at by secretary ross and the wonderful 36 hour ultimatum you, nat, and tony received

“i have a plan”

“don’t say the spider boy”

“fine, i wont say it”

a nice trip to queens :)

when this parker kid finally got home, tony left you to socialize with his aunt

small talk is sometimes unbearable

“so, what’s it like being tony stark’s daughter?”

“honestly? im always tired”

peter becoming a tagalong on your mission, which you didn’t really think was appropriate

“dad, i dont really think we should’ve brought the kid...”

“why? you’re about the same age as him, its not much different”

“um...no, i meant this isnt his battle. i don’t care how old he is”

face off between tony and cap where you literally just swallowed all your pride and apologized because you couldn’t handle the fact that the team was being ripped apart like this

team ups with Spider-Man

“so, uh, do you hate me or something?”

“hey, kid? we’re kind of in the middle of something, i’ll get back to you on that”

“it’s a yes or no question, y/n”

“pass”

so, things didn’t exactly go as planned...

your (former) teammates were taken to the RAFT and you couldn’t pull it together in front of them

they were pretty pissed at you

“im sorry, im so sorry, i should’ve done better”

they ignored you (up until scott lang)

“all you stark’s are the same”

“stay out of this, bugboy”

taking to the remote hydra base in another famous father/daughter teamup

“just like the old days, right kiddo?”

“i guess so”

“hey, cheer up, it’s not all that bad”

waltzing right in there to meet your friend and foe

seeing the video of your grandparents dying

*being killed

absolutely stunned by seeing such a gruesome thing

even after all you’ve seen, this really got to you

you were robbed of ever meeting them, which made you angry, but you couldn’t stay angry because there were so many things out of everyones control

realizing that this was a good time to hold tony back

“JOSHUA, lock down y/n’s suit. protocol: baby gate”

apparently your dad still had some old protocols in your suit that you hadn’t found yet

“JOSHUA? reboot! override protocol: baby gate”

“i’m sorry, miss y/n, but i cannot do that”

watching your father attempt to get revenge

and get critically injured

simultaneously working on opening the suit back up for a bad plan

finally getting the emergency release and stumbling out of your suit, rushing towards the conflict and throwing yourself in the middle of it

“please, dad. enough damage has been done.”

“y/n, get out of the way”

he saw you shaking and crying and he realized what he was doing

attacking the only family you guys really had

getting shoved out of the way so that they could end this fight once and for all

JOSHUA finally rebooting and bringing the suit over to shield you while you helplessly watched the end of this fight

when bucky and steve left, your suit disarmed and you crouched down beside your father

“come on, let’s just go home”

“im sorry”

“i know, it’s okay”

trying to comfort your dad after his defeat

you picked up cap’s shield and returned to your suit, it was time to go home

after a brief time of recovery (while you helped work on uncle rhodey’s prototype prosthetics), there was a slight change of plans for you

“okay, so for your punishment after what you pulled during my...divorce with cap, you’re going to babysit the spiderling so you gain some perspective”

“hold on, what?! what do you mean ‘perspective?’”

“i mean you dont know what it’s like to be in charge of the life of a teenager, so now you get to find out! congratulations on your promotion!”

it was not fun at all because peter kept blowing up your phone and you kept having to tell him there was nothing for him to do

Y/N: I’ll let you know when there’s a spider-level threat, kapeesh?

P. Parker: Yes, ma’am, sorry.

peter going behind your back to do some “superhero work”

and you having to swoop in to fix everything last second

“come on, you stole my thunder, y/n!”

“no, peter, i saved your life. next time you have a lead, call me first”

and then he didn’t 😌✨💕

“Y/N, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“put him through, JOSHIE...hey dad, how’s dubai?”

“taking care of a kid is harder than it looks, isn’t it?”

“don’t start with me”

damage control ahahah 🤡

“peter, why cant you just call me in? you don’t stop texting me for months but for this you go radio silent? you almost died. and you put a bunch of lives in danger! do you want me to have to go to your aunt and tell her you died?”

“im sorry! i just...i dont want to be a sidekick”

“kid, you’re gonna have a long time to make a name for yourself...but not if you’re dead!”

he started crying and you were very uncomfortable so you tried to hug him? it helped.

letting him off easy (just like your dad did to you growing up)

but apparently tony came back and took the suit anyways and you were pretty pissed about it

avengers moving day :) yes, part of your punishment was helping happy with moving day and hearing him gush about how you were “growing into such a responsible adult”

“happy i dont know if you noticed but ive basically been an adult since i was 12”

“keep telling yourself that, kiddo”

seeing an explosion and immediately knowing it was peter

“i’ll see you later, happy, love you!”

investigating the crash site and whaddaya know, there’s peter and his first bad guy, you were kind of proud

“peter, you okay?”

“nope!”

“okay, cool”

more damage control lmao (a/n: yall sick of damage control yet?)

a congratulatory call from your dad

“hey! you did pretty good, all things considered. why don’t you take the kid to the avengers compound for his special surprise?”

“aye aye, see you soon.”

“love you, kiddo”

“you too, dad”

quick fast forward to peter rejecting the position as an avenger while the press was outside, yes, you were surprised

but then your dad finally proposed to pepper, it was a pretty cool engagement announcement

“y/n, will you be my maid of honor?”

“duh!”

happily ever after (a/n: until the next part is up)

[roses-ruby]

Come home to me...Darling

Jimin x Female Reader (+ Jungkook & Mystery Member)

Ao3 Link

Part 2 of 2 (Part 1)

Genre: Cheating!AU, angst, smut (masturbation and fingering, both female), fluff

Warnings: Masturbation, Fingering, Infidelity, Cursing, Sad, Low self esteem, Mentions of a panic attack, Jimin’s a jerk :(

Word Count: 29,555

Summary: Jimin cheats and you try to make him stay. But whatever you do, it’s never enough.

Tag: @some-random-stranger-007​

A/N: it is finally out now I can go yeet myself into the lake of fire never to return. Can you believe i almost lost this? ahahahaha the level of clownery. Anyway I hate it, so let me know what you think of it. Thank you to @meuurtrierr​ it wouldn’t be possible without her. Edited but I know I missed some shit, also I skimped on the warnings cuz i dont remember what else skskssk do let me know babes mwah Enjoy!

Mondays are the worst.

It’s not enough that you needed to skim through the employee evaluation files in the next 2 hours, but a grueling headache had somehow found a way to attach itself into your brain. Even blinking was painful. You weren’t able to do anything but stare at your desk with little to no energy present in your build. There was a dull lull in the room, and you felt suffocated in your stuffy office. When one of the open file’s papers flutters in front of you is when you manage to snap out of dreamland. Peeking at the desk right outside your office, you let out a sigh of relief at finding the space empty. Finally, you could get up and do something about this headache as well as pour some caffeine into your body.

Usually Yura would gleefully grab it for you, but you felt awkward around her since that day and hadn’t asked anything of her since. It was a bit silly, you don’t know why you were avoiding her exactly. Most likely it was due to not trying out her therapist suggestion yet. But it wasn’t like she was forcing you and it also wasn’t that you didn’t want to go…you were just unsure. You were scared. An unfamiliar person, poking and prodding at you – at your life. Finding and pulling out all the faults in you like weed. Judging you. Your habit of overthinking had already made you fit irrational scenarios inside your head of your ‘sessions’ and how awful they would end up being.

This irrationality also embarrassed you and led you into avoiding Yura.

In a nimble pace, you quickly make your way into the center office filled with cubicles. From there you speedily step your way into the breakroom. Thankfully, it was also empty. It wasn’t like coming here wasn’t unusual for you – you had been in here before you were promoted, albeit just a bit. You weren’t the most extroverted person, and people seemed to always be creating some forms of conversation in here. Which scared you into staying in your cubicle until certain timestamps where you found it vacant. Sighing, you walk to the coffee maker in the corner of the room to find it barren, and you heave a groan as you gather your ingredients for coffee. You didn’t want to stay here in case of running into someone, but life was making everything harder for you as usual. Watching as the coffee hits the pot in the coffee maker, you think back to last night.  

Jimin never made it back home throughout that whole day. That had become a usual occurrence, but it really hit you hard this time because you were aching to sort things out after the clash you both faced. There was a restless ache in your stomach, which you’re sure was the cause in you turning sick today. Last night you had caught the exact moment Jimin figured out that you knew about him and her, his aura completely morphing into something between docile and tense. After he left, you couldn’t sleep for hours, tossing and turning and just waiting for him to come home. The scene kept replaying in your mind and you kept analyzing certain aspects, wishing you had said something better or acted in a compromising manner rather than driving him away. But then he never showed up and you were too afraid to call him back to you. If you went to voicemail yet again, you felt you would go insane.

Though you pondered where he was with exhausted efforts, a dreadful thought told you that you already knew, you just didn’t want to accept it. You hoped it wasn’t true. That he wouldn’t be with Tina – not after last night. Maybe…he was crashing at Jin’s place? …Wait, why didn’t you think of him sooner? Jin, his best friend since he moved to the city, would know where he is! Friends are considered confidantes, aren’t they? It wouldn’t hurt to inquire s few things from Jin, he was always a sweet man. But you didn’t want to force Jimin back to you or anything of the sort, you just wanted to know if he was ok. Hopefully he’ll realize how much you need him, hopefully he’ll come back home to you on his own accord. You were going to give him some time to think, then he’ll surely be back by that day, right?

Hopefully.

As you pour the coffee into your mug, the door creeks open and a citrusy cologne fills the air which pulls you out of your thoughts as you stiffen. Great. Carefully, you turn to see the culprit to be a tall man yawning loudly and stretching his arms while walking towards you. It alarms you that he’s moving straight at you without even realizing, but you don’t make an effort to move. Which ends up with him crashing into you slightly-

“Oh, whoa,” He says as his eyes fly open and he holds onto the small of your back with his warm hand, “Sorry about that, didn’t notice anyone was here!”

No kidding.

Now that he wasn’t scrunching up his expression, you could properly take in his appearance. He had such a soft and youthful face, big doe eyes that seemed to be lit with stars. Everything about him was so round, his nose, his cheeks, his small mouth. Jet black hair covered his forehead and compared to his boyish features, the muscles protruding from his white button up were anything but soft. You felt bad for his shirt, which was straining to hold itself together. There was a small scar on his left cheek, yet another mark amplifying his young features. He seemed to be observing you as well, his eyes a tad bit larger and his hand still on your back.

You clear your throat and straighten your back, looking away from him to the floor.

Breaking out of his daze he retracts his hand immediately, “Oh, sorry!”

That’s when he notices the mug in your hand, then turning to the coffee maker he beams,

“Hey, did you make a fresh brew? That’s awesome, Thanks!”

“It’s no problem.” You say in a small voice

At the moment you desired no conversation with anyone. It felt as if once the tiniest amount of sympathy is thrown in your direction, you become a puddle of pudding into the persons hand. Instead, what you really wanted to do was to stop feeling so weak. Stop relying on them to hold you together, because people leave. Jimin left. Left you to melt into the ground without looking back.  

Right now, you just wanted to be left alone.

But the boy in front of you did not seem to be good at detecting facial cues.  

“Umm…do you work here?” He asks you, and you give him a confused look, “I-I mean, I’ve never seen you around…but it must be because I just started here last week, I’m a new recruit.”

Yura mentioned something about that, but you never actually got a chance to look through the profiles since the Jimin fiasco.

“Is that it?” He asks again, “Are you a new recruit as well?”

“Um...” You wondered how to properly tell the boy that you were his boss. The reason he hasn’t seen you before is because you rarely come out of your office. Unless there’s a big meeting.

“Then you must’ve started today, huh?” He says, a smile on his face displaying his teeth…his bunny teeth. Adorable. “We’re in the same boat then! If you ever need anything, just let me know!”

The expression on him was so pleased, you didn’t have the heart to decline. Didn’t have the heart to walk away or disregard him. So, you just stood there as he introduced himself.

“My name’s Jungkook by the way.”

“_-___.” You respond shyly

“___,” He repeats to himself, scratching the back of his head, “That’s a beautiful name.” He gives you a look that has you blushing as you mumble out a ‘thank you.’  

It was so natural then.

You don’t know how it happened, but you were suddenly thrown into a conversation with your company’s most enthusiastic employee, Jeon Jungkook. At first, you were worried a bit by how young he looks, yet it turned out he was only two years younger than you – and he refused to believe you were older, the brat. He stood there explaining how things work around the office, telling you tall tales about some of the ‘haunted’ conference rooms and scary coworkers to which you were enthralled by, despite being here way longer than him. You found yourself giggling every time he exaggerated a story with his words or eyes.

“So ___, how do you like it here so far?”

“It’s nice,” You respond vaguely, taking another sip of your coffee, “How about you?”

“They really work you to the bone! But I like it, they’re fair with the salary and the donuts here are always so good.” Jungkook beams widely while reaching over to grab one of the chocolate glazed donuts off from the small white box next to the coffee maker.

“Heard the CEO’s batshit though” He says with a mouthful

At that you let out a snort – almost spilling some of your coffee from your mouth, which leads you into covering it with your hand and coughing. It was true, she was a little strange.

“Oops.” Jungkook responds with a mischievous glint in his eye. In return you squint your eyes at him in mock anger as you let out your last cough. He reaches over again and grabs another donut from the box. You wish he would stop doing that, his arm radiated a lot of heat and you were going crazy trying to ignore his scent. Pulling out a second donut, this one with pink frosting and dark red glaze decorated in a zig-zag pattern, he hands it out to you.

“Here,” He says with his bunny teeth displayed.

You give it a long stare before taking it, “Thank you.”

“It’s a peace offering.”

“I see.” You eye the sugary dough and the colorful star sprinkles sticking into the frosting, “Interesting choice.”

“It’s cause that one was pretty.” He pouts

“You gave me a donut because you found it pretty?” You raise an eyebrow at him

Scoffing at your tone, he leans into the countertop and fold his arms, displaying his biceps up in your face. Damn those arms. “And what about it.”

“Nothing,” you giggle, “Just that normal people would give pretty flowers or pretty letters and not…fried dough.”

Jungkook turns silent at that, turning his face toward the ceiling as if in thought. He was making an odd expression, one with his eyebrows drawn in and lips pulled straight, you wondered if this was normally how his face was while thinking. It was kind of funny. But also, very cute.

“You’re right.” He suddenly says

“Hmm?”

“I should get you flowers.”

“…And where would you find flowers in an industrial urban structure?”

To this he removes himself off the counter and turns to you, his height and muscles intimidated you a bit. He was definitely taller than Jimin. “Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe it is.” You say in a low voice, maintaining direct eye contact

“Alright then ___, we may be new here (you internally cringe as he says this) but I bet you I can find you some pretty flowers lurking about in this stale glass cube of a building.”

You laugh at how serious he got – the fiery glint in his eyes, and raise out a hand, “And I bet you won’t!”

Being here three years had taught you quite a lot about this location. The lower floors contained a computer enterprise, and the upper floors remained a basic accounting firm. Grass surrounding the building was patchy and dry thanks to the summer heat. Also, your CEO had a strict pollen allergy, so keeping things like vases to fill with freshly cut daisies in or around the residence was impossible. There was no way he would was going to find any flowers here. It was a bit sad how much you knew about this place, being the only other dwelling you hung out in other than your home. But on the bright side, you were totally gonna win this bet.

“What do I get if I win?” You question as he shakes your hand. Heat immediately shoots down your spine at his touch and you block yourself from shivering by clenching your teeth…he had a very firm grip.

“I’ll be your servant for a week.” He pipes making you raise your brows as you shape your mouth into an ‘o.’ “And what If I win?”

“Hmm…” You hadn’t thought of that because you didn’t think there was any way he could.

“How about if I win, I get your number?”

…

Huh?

Tilting your head, you scrunch your brows. “…Why would you want my number?”  

That confused you.

He gave you a wide eye stare. Did you really just say that? Perhaps you were playing hard to get? Yes…that must be it. No need to feel embarrassed. She didn’t reject you he thinks abashed. While you on the other hand were clueless to his fretful appearance.

“…Um.” Jungkook clears his throat looking down at his shoes. Wait…were Timblands allowed in the uniform? “Just cause.” He mumbles

You dwell on it for a second. You’ve never gave your number to a guy before. It can’t hurt, right? Besides he wasn’t going to win anyway.

“Well, alright.”

He grins at your approval, and you giggle in return. Was he the cutest man, or what?

“You know…you’re very pretty when you laugh.” He says abruptly and that makes you completely drop your mouth. His face flushes and that’s when you notice he still had your hand in his. The sudden awareness makes you pull it back at lightning speed. You try to speak again, but somehow the sound was knocked out of you and the room feels very, very, very, very warm for some reason.  

“I- I should prob-” You point over your shoulder, slowly backing away from the doe-eyed man. “I have work.”

“A-alright…” He scratches the back of his head again. A habit you suppose. “See you around.”

“Yes.” Was the last thing you said before practically sprinting out of the breakroom.

You don’t know how long you spent chatting with Jungkook, but you came back to your office on sore legs. Sitting down on the revolving chair, you spin around a bit feeling bizarrely giddy inside, headache completely forgotten and newly revitalized. As you remember his red cheeks you pull up your arms in front of you. Chills…you had chills. What. Was. That.

Even though your legs hurt from standing, you don’t regret it one bit.  

That was…strange. Never had you been one for conversations, especially not with the other sex. Your husband didn’t seem to like it when you were chatting with another man, so you never tried to. Yet Jungkook…why did you enjoy being around him so much?  

It felt like you were back in high school, talking with the class president you had a huge crush on. Or like the guy from 5th grade who gave you a band aid. And even when you first met Jimin. You’re not sure, but you do know this is the first time in years where you became so smitten with someone so quickly. Jungkook was like a breath of fresh air, you really liked him.

Wait, what?

As soon as you process the weight of your thoughts, you immediately sit up in your chair. No, you couldn’t just have thought of such, right?

You…you were a married woman! Holding up your hand, you stare at your wedding ring while guilt crawls up your spine. This wasn’t right, you shouldn’t be doing this your conscious spoke. Not when your married life was in shambles. Is this who you were? Though, when you really think about it, it wasn’t like you did anything, you were just talking. So why did you feel so bad? Bringing your hand to your chest, you hold onto your ring finger with your other hand and close your eyes. Jimin appears before you, a light smile on his handsome face.

Your heart clenches.

“-ght.”

Just then, you register someone’s voice outside your office, breaking you from your daze. You stiffen, recognizing the soft laughter of your beloved secretary. She must have returned from her lunch break.

These days you had begun to pay Yura special attention.  

It was due to her confession, knowing that she dealt with so much but still managed to be happy – genuinely happy – made you feel…curious. You wanted to understand how she did it, how she managed to deal with life in a better way. And then maybe, just maybe, you could do it too.

Yes, that should be a rational clarification of why you were creeping up to the entrance like a stalker. Calmly stepping up to the see-through door, you hide behind the solid wall to the right of it, peeping your head out to spot Yura. You honestly don’t know what you were wanting to accomplish, but you had been getting yourself involved in a lot of strange situations recently, so it was better not to question it.

She had her back facing you, thankfully, or this would have been even more embarrassing. You stretch your neck out as much as you could, feet planted firmly on the hidden side of the wall. Watching as she stood beyond her desk casually, her phone to her ear while she conversed gently with someone on the other line.

“I’ll pick up some Chinese tonight- no not that one I hate it!” She laughed. “Seriously babe we’ve had that four nights in a row now…okay, okay we had tempura for a whole month because of me I know that!”

It was easy to tell she was talking to her boyfriend. It was just general, everyday stuff but you couldn’t help but feel envious. Yura sounded so content, her boyfriend sounded like he loved her. That was all you’ve ever wanted. How come you’ve never had that?

A grimace falls upon your face. Just what were you doing trying to spy on your secretary? When did you become so pathetic? There was no secret, and if there was, she has told you of it already. The truth was, you were stubborn, unwilling to change from the old ways as if your conservatism has ever been of any help to you. With a silent sigh, you were about to walk back to your desk when you heard him tell her ‘I love you.’  

In return she giggled, “I know~ See you tonight!”

You stood there stagnant for a bit. After a moment, you smiled, although there was no sign of joy on your face. Really…you were really pathetic.

Once you were at your desk, you eye your bag on the side of your chair’s leg before you pick it up, digging through it until you find what you were searching for. The piece of paper with the number was still in the same state as when she first gave it to you. Albeit crumpled. wouldn’t it have been hard for her to gather up the courage to say something you, her boss, could wrongly take offense over? Which you almost did. You respect her courage, her dedication and determination. When she first joined, you thought she was like you.

You were wrong.

She was stronger than you had ever been.

And instead of dwelling in that bitter pool of jealously you’ve drowned in with so many other women, you respected her. You wanted to learn from her and Irene and any woman in your life that had fought their battles with determination. It was like you said before, you had been getting yourself into strange circumstances lately, so why not this too? Who was here to stop you? Who was here to feel pity for you?

All you wanted was to be happy once again. Just once more.  

You owed it to yourself

Tick…tock…tick…tock…

You sat at the edge of your red seat with your palms holding onto your knees. Uneasiness found a way to penetrate your bones and you sensed a thin layer of perspiration on your hairline as you watch the clock ticking down until your dreaded deadline.

There was a lady situated underneath the clock, an elder woman by maybe a decade. She had soft wrinkles around her eyes and forehead, a bun high on top her head and bright red lipstick on her thin lips. Clacking away at her key board, she would occasionally furrow her brows in concentration at something she was looking at on her computer screen or smile at you if you made eye contact. Didn’t do much to ease your nerves but it still felt nice. The lady reminded you of yourself, and you speculate if this is how people saw you when you were at work.

It had been a couple of days until you managed to call an appointment for a therapy session. The isolation ate away at you after Jimin had been missing for the third day. You desperately wanted to talk to someone about your problems, but Irene was out of town, your husband absent, and you were too shy to seek out Yoongi. Instead of pushing your complications onto others, you thought it was finally time to call in some professional effort. The lady on the phone had been really nice and you were able to set an appointment up fairly quickly. Now you were just sitting here, in the monotone lounge area waiting for the therapist to arrive.

There was quite a bit of research you did beforehand. Turns out, different therapists professionalize different problems. Cognitive therapist help deal with bad thoughts and unclutter daily habits. Family-oriented systems therapist dealt with family related issues. Personal issues are dealt by people who are experts in narrative, behavioral, or solution-oriented therapies. And psychodynamic therapists, like the one you were visiting, dealt with unconscious motivation.

Actually, many therapists deal with many different fields at once, some work in relationship therapy both romantic and platonic while others work only on you – if you choose to keep the people in your life out of your segments. Because of that, it was up to the person seeking out therapy to decide what’s right for them. For instance, if you are someone who always felt closer and comfortable with your dad, then maybe it’s best that you seek out a male therapist. You also had to be meticulous about their personalities.

During your search, you found a person who said their therapist always read their email during sessions on a blog forum. One even said their therapist ate rounds of cheese during theirs! It was extremely uncomfortable to read that. But now you knew there were many things to make sure of, therefore being prepared. Gender, expertise, field of education, professionalism, reviews, trust and even the vibe you get from certain therapists are all important factors in choosing a therapist.  

Researching yours, you found her specialty was in female psychology. Including relationships and intimacy. All reviews on her were positive and you were so glad to read through them. After rounds of self-motivation and days of procrastination, here you were.

It’s quite humorous actually, a month ago you never thought you’d be doing anything like this.  

You just weren’t ever capable, especially not with your level of anxiety. What could it be about the past few weeks that you’ve grown so courageous? Was it the meeting with the stranger on the roof, the discovery of a friend, or empathizing with someone you worked with? But what if it wasn’t a person? Perhaps it was the city’s rapid heart at 3 AM, the wild club and heavy beats or the mundane office life encouraging you to take a step forward. Maybe it the tragedy behind that rainy day you hate to recall and hitting rock bottom with such force. Opening the pandora box? As you struggle to find answers within yourself, you realize Jimin wasn’t the only one confused with your behavior.  

You don’t get to dwell on the past for too long as a door clicks open and lets a slight breeze pull you from your thoughts.  A slender young lady holding a clipboard appears; short brown hair, black kitten heels and thin rimmed glasses sitting on her nose. She looks in your direction and smiles, gesturing for you to come her way.

You get up nervously, wiping your sweaty palms on your pencil skirt. Straightening yourself out, you make your way towards her.

“Hi, you must be ___, correct? I’m Dr. Lin.” She raises her hand and you immediately grab it. Her voice was gentle and steady, you felt actually welcomed.

“Yes, nice to meet you, Doctor.”

“You too.” She smiles, “And please, call me Lin. This way please.”  

She leads you in with her arm on your back, making you effortlessly walk into the sanctuary of her office.  

Once you were inside the room, you gape at her place in awe. It was wide open, there was no way you’d feel suffocated in here as you originally thought. There were large windows, displaying the greenery located at the back of the building. She had two huge shelves filled with colorful books on both ends of her office. In front of the windows rested a large shaggy carpet with a glass coffee table on top. Behind the table were two grey sofa chairs that complimented the fuzzy blue carpeting. And a small desk on the right side next to an office chair where she probably did most of her work. As you hear the door shut behind you, you turn around to catch her eye and she smiles at you.

“Right this way.” She says, walking past you which leads you into following her. When she reaches a chair, she pauses, waiting for you to take a seat first.  

So, you do.

“Well.” She starts, grabbing the pen off her clipboard, “How are you today ___?”

“I-I’m alright.”

Lin raises the corner of her lips “Just alright?”

“Yes…I.” You don’t know what to say. Were you already doing something wrong?

“That’s good,” Lin smiles as she clicks her pen open and jots something down onto her clipboard. “That’s a beautiful ring by the way.”

“O-oh thank you.” You cover your finger with your hand as Lin slightly squints at your action, still writing something.

“So,” She takes a deep breath and put down her pen, “What brings you here today?” Looking back up at you, she beams.

“Um…I needed someone to talk to…”

“Do you not have someone in your life to talk to? Or is it that you don’t feel comfortable confiding in them?”

“Kind of both…I…don’t want to trouble anyone.”

“I see.” She writes something else down

“Now tell me ___...why’re you really here?”

Out of nervousness, you kept messing with your ring and you knew she could tell. So, to distract your hands you needed something else to clutch onto. There was a tall glass of water on the coffee table in front of you. Your doctor notices your staring right away to which she points, “Please, go ahead.”

At her approval you pick up the glass and bring it your lips. After drinking just a bit, you decide to hold it down on your lap. For a second, you just stare as the water softly vibrates inside the clear glass while Lin waits for you to speak up. Is there a right way to tell her? You struggle internally at voicing your problems.

“I-I’ve been married six years…and it’s…I’ve had a hard time.”

“Six years is quite long…most married couples have problems by then.” Lin says, “It’s normal. Going through difficulties ranging from various reasons either with money or fidelity – having ups and downs.”

You take a deep breath trying to keep your heartbeat steady. “I barely remember having an up…”

She stares at you, and you don’t look at her. Instead you stare at the small burgundy table on the side of your sofa. It separated your chair with hers.

“…Can you tell me a bit about your husband, ___? Why don’t start by telling me the last up you do remember?”

At that, you finally look up at her. Was there an up you remember? For a large portion of your life, you had thought that every single moment with Jimin was an up. But when it came down to it, that wasn’t the truth. Jimin spent tremendous amounts of time breaking his promises to you. You actually remember the last promise he kept…how innocent the display of your relationship was back then…

The morning was pure white.  

Or at least it felt like so in your cramped dorm room where you spent another day lying next to the only other body you desired. The craving was an ache on par with stories that are never finished or poems with no end. You wonder if this is how it would always be; you longing for him while being so close, as well as lingering on the edges of how long this would last, when he would get up and leave you. Then you can crave him for an eternity.  

Oh, how you dreaded that day. You couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t fathom it, you couldn’t even conjure up the courage to acknowledge it. But it was inevitable, wasn’t it? Out of the thousands who want him, the millions who would do anything for him – what could have made you so special?

“What are you staring at?” He asks, softly turning his sleepy eyes to you.

His gaze raises your heartbeat, you feel a blush crawl up your bare spine. He’s been quieter these days, always seeming like he was in a deep stupor. A covered silence behind his beautiful mind. Everything was domestic and wholesome, your mind felt relaxed.  

“I’m looking at my world…” You whisper, close to his ear as your lips brush against the outer lobe.  

For a moment he just stares before he lets out a breathy laugh. “Cheesy.”

You smile, head molding into his shouldering with ease. Sex with him was always like a gentle wave, slowly covering your whole body in its warmth. His body was warmer than your comforter and his skin more alluring than any sight offered to your eyes.

“Says you.”

“Oh?” He quirks an eyebrow up making you nod

“Remember when you took me to the arcade and kept trying to win me that fat round stuffed whale for 2 hours?”

“Pfft, and I never even won that, did I?” He scrunches his nose in mock anger

“Exactly.” You giggle

“Hmm…but do you remember you stood there and encouraged me on the whole time. Didn’t complain once.”

Of course, you remember that day. The heels you wore were so prickly, your feet were sore for a week. Still you didn’t want to discourage Jimin, who was trying so hard for you. Or maybe he was just to immersed in the game, but it didn’t matter. None of that mattered but the fact that Jimin was with you.

“You didn’t complain when my car broke down in the snow on that abandoned road. Nor when I insisted to go see Candyman instead of whatever romcom movie you had in mind… I’ve always love that about you.”

I love that about you.

“How can I ever complain when you’re having fun…I’m not the complaining type of girl anyway.”

“You’re right, you aren’t like the other girls.” Jimin turns to face you completely, a soft grin on your face, “Maybe that’s why I like you too much.”

“R-really?” You flush as he laughs. It was always so easy for him, wasn’t it? “Cheesy.”

“But you love it.” Jimin bites his lower lip and well, you couldn’t deny that. He leans in just then, catching your fleeting eyes before he tenderly connects your lips. You couldn’t deny him then either. Your mouths move in a languid fashion, tongues tasting the deepest corners slowly.

He tasted of honey. That sweet, addictive pleasure.

After a few seconds you both part, Jimin hums with a lazy smirk. Your stares battle infinity before he looks at the clock. “Shit…I should run, my boss needs me to come in early today.”

“Oh, okay.” You say, masking your dejection when he gets up to put his shirt on. Jimin always hated his bosses. Actually, he seemed to have a problem with any figure who displayed authority over him.

“…Jimin…” You call out to him and he looks at you over his shoulder. “You’ll come back tonight, right?”

“…Right.” He says with a smile.

“Promise?” Your voice is so quiet it disappears with the sounds he makes as he shuffles to get up. So you just watch as he gets ready, the yearning in your heart and mind stirring again as you glare a hole into his muscular back. And suddenly he turns, with that same smile on his face. The one that has entrapped your heart many times before.

“I promise.”

And that was the last promise he actually fulfilled.

“That sounds so sweet.” Lin pulls you out from your thoughts and you take notice of the gentle smile gracing your features.

“It was.”

“How long ago was this?” she questions

“…”

“___?”

“Si-…seven years ago”

She frowns, furrowing her eyebrows “And how long have the two of you been married again?”

“Six years.”

“Then what have the last six years been like for you?” She asks softly

“He’s fucking another girl.” You calmly state as the room goes silent. The only thing you could hear were the morning birds outside the window and your sullen breaths. Thinking about the last six years made you upset…you couldn’t do anything to change that. Your grip on the glass becomes tighter, and you notice you’ve left prints again. So, you quickly begin wiping them. “He’s been…fucking other girls.”

…

“…I see…why don’t you start from the beginning.”

And in a moment, you’re spilling it all. Every single tortuous detail from your spousal life. Jimin’s promises, his lies. Every time he shut you down or off. Whenever he created distance. Jessica. Mina. Tina. All of last month, as if it was a story written in a word document. Every single pain you felt. You were crying by the end of it. Both from the searing lump in your throat and from the dreadful feeling of betraying your husband by not keeping your marriage’s confidentiality.  

Why did you always feel so guilty?

You were sobbing into your palm as the doctor offers you a Kleenex. Wiping away at your tears, you take a glimpse at her expression. It had somewhat hardened in what you think is sympathy…but you couldn’t describe it well.

“Is there anyone you’ve spoken to about your husband’s infidelity other than Irene or Yoongi?”

“No.” You sniffle

“What about your mom?”

“I…I barely see her. Last time I t-talked to her was on the phone a year ago…on my birthday. And even if I d-did…I doubt I’d tell her.”

Lin takes a deep breath, “I see.” She commences to write something down once again on her clipboard. “Infidelity can be damaging in all sorts of way to an individual…especially to one’s self confidence.”

She looks at you “Do you feel that you have lost your sense of self-worth?”

“I wouldn’t know…I’m not sure I ever had any.”

This time, she takes off her glasses to hold in her fingers as she rests her knuckles under her jaw.

“While you’ve been here, I noticed you gave vague and short replies as if you didn’t want to talk in the first place when that’s exactly what you said you came to do. And you’re sitting at the edge of your seat.” She points at your hips and you immediately look down, “You’re trying to not leave a mark of your presence in the room, just like in the lobby…even the glass…you’ve marked off your prints around three times now?”

Were you really doing all of that? You felt embarrassed.

Her eyes immediately soften, and she speaks in a slower tone, “I just want you to tell me why you keep trying to make yourself as insignificant as possible. Why do you only become full of life at the mention of your husband?”

You wish you had an answer for her, but you don’t. Huh, how funny is it that this is the one time your perfectionism fails you. The one time you fail to provide an answer. Instead you opt to stare at the small table again. There were books on the table…one particular one stacked on top that caught your eye.

Her Body and Other Parties, the title read.

Lin notices where you were gazing off at.  

“…___...can I ask you something private? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”

Well she knew so much already. How can yet another intimate fact hurt? So, you nod meekly.

“How is your sex life?”

“Huh?” You make eye contact immediately after processing what she just said

“Can you tell me the last time you made love with Jimin?”

“Uh…um… uh-we haven’t been, I mean I can’t…with him.”

“Why?”

“Because when I tried to…Tina appeared in my head and I just…”

“Alright.” She says, looking ahead as if in thought. “Then when was the last time you were able to?”  

You try to think, “Around 3 months ago.”

“Before Tina then. And you’ve been sexually active occasionally before that, yes?”

“Yes.”

“How was it then? Did he make you feel good?”

“Yes…I think?”

She gives you a certain look, “You think? What do you mean by that?”

“I mean it’s Jimin…everything feels good with Jimin.”

“Were you able to reach an orgasm with Jimin?”

Silence puddles the room.

“No.” You whisper in the smallest voice

“…___, can you tell me how long it has been since your husband gave you an orgasm?”

There’s a strumming inside you and you feel your insides pound. She said you didn’t have to answer right?

“Since…Jessica.” You murmur her name so low you don’t think she heard it. But the way she clicks her pen on tells you otherwise.

“…Can you tell me how many years it has been?”

“…”

“If you don’t want to answer it, that’s all right. We can talk about something else.”

“5 years.”

“…I see…and before that?”

“Before that…I always came before Jimin. It was surreal to have him above me…inside me. I felt so…loved.”

Lin glances out a window for a few seconds, seemingly in thought. Then she brings her attention back onto you. “Has Jimin ever noticed?

You snort at that, to which she raises a brow. Clearing your throat, you speak again.

“No, he hasn’t noticed. I fake them.”

“So, you let him have sex with you, never once felt satisfied and didn’t complain?”

You look down at your glass once again, “I…I didn’t want him to not touch me.”

Lin nods, waiting for you to continue.

“I wanted him to love me…to only look at me. Not being able to cum…is all my fault anyway. Something…must be wrong with me.” You wipe the tears loitering your sockets with your crumpled Kleenex.

“No. This isn’t your fault.” Lin states before she sighs, rubbing at her neck. “I’ve heard that before in a lot of my female patients. Yet it still manages to amaze me.”  

“___,” She addresses you with full attention, making you straighten your spine, “Recently, I have been reading books on female sexuality and happiness. One of them being this-” She picks up the book you were looking at “-‘Her Body and Other Parties’ by Carmen Maria Machado. And I have come to notice a pattern between a woman’s sensuality and her self-esteem.”

Lin pauses, putting the book back down and looking back at you to make sure you were keeping up with her, making you nod in return.

“If I may ask…have you, by chance, brought yourself to an orgasm in the past 5 years?”

“Huh?”  

“Have you ever masturbated?”

“Umm…no…”

“Maybe once when you were a teen? College, perhaps?”

“No.”

Like she had an epiphany she writes down something yet again on her clipboard.  

“Then that’s what I want you to do before our next session. Educate yourself on healthy masturbation.”

Your jaw drops open at her statement, a string of questions leaving your lips. What did she just say? There was no way you’d be capable of doing something like that! You almost died just thinking about-  

“___, I know it seems crazy, but masturbation is directly linked to a women’s mental health. It helps you gain confidence, release stress, produces endorphins and strengthens your immune system. We will be able to find out a lot about you, such as if you are interested in the idea of sex or not, either which is fine. It can also tell us if Jimin’s infidelity has been causing you subconscious psychological damage.”

Your mouth shuts as she lists her reasons.

“You have spent your life, giving yourself away. To your mom, to Jimin, to your work. You spent your life trying to become someone they’d love, that you forgot about who you are. There’s barely any of the real you left inside.” She points at your chest, “I need you to find out what you want, the things you like. The pleasures YOU seek.”

“I want you to learn about yourself. Learn how to properly care for yourself…how to love yourself.”

As her words register in your brain, you think back to a couple days ago. About how you sat with Irene, outside that small café. Not understanding that you genuinely liked cooking, just thought you did it to make your mom or Jimin happy. And about how good it felt, how amazing it was to realize there was a part of your personality not molded from the people who took advantage of you. It was…liberating.

“O…okay, but how do I…I mean my sessions with Jimin were all soft…I’ve never done anything myself before.”

“It’s up to you really…why don’t you start out by using a toy? You’ve missed out for a long while, so yes. I think a toy would help you.” She smiles at you and you want to stuff your face into the couch.

Could today get any stranger?

Suddenly a timer beeps causing Lin to look back at her desk.

“Oh, that’s all the time we have for now ___,” She says standing up, and you rush to stand with her, placing the glass back on the table. “I hope you can successfully complete this task I’ve assigned you, and I’ll meet you the same time next week, alright?”

She extends her hand, and you take it immediately “Umm, yes definitely.”

With the pleasantries out the way, you carefully make your way towards the door. Once you place your palm on the door handle, Lin calls out to you once again,

“Oh, and no thinking about Jimin while completing my assignment! This is about you and only you after all.”

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-”

“Irene, please stop laughing.” You groan into the receiver, pinching the bridge of your nose in embarrassment.

“Sorr-I just ahhahahah, no wait-” She wheezes over the other line. Taking a deep breath, she consoles herself. “Alright, so let me get this straight. I’m out of town for a week and you end up going to a therapist who tells you to jerk yourself off on the first session?”

“Ireeenneee,” You whine, “She’s a smart lady. She’s trying to help me.”

“Oh, she’s definitely trying to help you alright.” Irene snickers and you huff in frustration. Maybe you shouldn’t have called her to tell her about your Saturday night plans.

“Okay, okay, no more jokes. So, are you going to do it?”

“Yes…I mean I don’t know…I’m a bit nervous.”

“You haven’t came in 5 years. As a girl with a healthy libido, that would emotionally damage the hell out of me. Maybe the Doc’s onto something.” Irene states

“You think so?” This is what you wanted as usual. Reassurance.

“I don’t know to be honest…why don’t you try it out and tell me? You sure you bought the right item?”

You stare at the small unwrapped object in front of you. A bullet vibrator. All of that internet searching for a pink oval-shaped ball.

“I…think…” You gulp, becoming slightly intimidated

“Well I think you’re going to have an amazing night my princess.” Irene coos making you blush

“I-I-I am hanging up on you now!” You pout, flustered

“Wait, no I wa-”

With a huff you end the call, throwing your phone off to the side. Again, you were left doing nothing but staring at your toy. It just laid there, staring back at you. The atmosphere of your room felt oddly tense.

“Okay…be gentle.” You whisper to it. It doesn’t respond.

You pick it up carefully, taking off your robe and laying down against your mattress.

…Now what?

You were a grown woman; it was healthy to explore your sexuality. That’s what those internet articles and female magazines told you, all written in a perky tone to somehow connect with the modern working woman. Although you being you, you couldn’t help but point out their spelling mistakes.

That’s not the point, you huff, staring at your ceiling in frustration. What were you supposed to do right now? Your core was exposed to the air, the bullet vibrator stayed stiff in your left palm and you felt kind of ashamed in this position.

No thinking about Jimin, you recall Lin warning you. How were you supposed to do that? Who else would ever make you feel the way Jimin made you feel? Granted, he didn’t actually make you cum in the past few years, making love with him still felt good.

Or at least you think what you had with him felt good. At the times he made love with you, you desperately tried to convince yourself that it was different with you than with Jessica or Mina. That you were special to him and they were just side pieces. It…didn’t really work. Nevertheless, there wasn’t anyone who made you feel as bright as Jimin, no one you made you flustered and left you stuttering.

Well except maybe Irene and her smart mouth.

You giggle as you think of your friend. Before you begin to ponder on the subject a bit too long. Irene did have a pretty mouth. Her lips were always so cherry red and eyes foxy and seductive. It was always difficult to look at her straight in the face, but she made you sure you did no matter what. She was so assertive.

It was then, when you were dreaming about her intense ogling that your hips shifted slightly, your exposed core aching. H…How would Irene feel around your…your…

“Ah-” You moaned, your arm sliding down until your fingers made contact with your folds. Your eyes were closed so you could better picture her jet-black hair, the lax strands perfectly framing her small face. Your mouth was shaped as an O, as your fingers brushed through your folds, sliding them across the lax skin, before stretching them open, becoming wetter by the second.

“Nn-ahh.” You cry out softly as you rub around your clit. Your mind filling with a deep haze. This was so strange, you’ve never thought of women this way. But then again, you haven’t thought of anyone this way except for your husband.

“Nuh uh~” You hear the tender tone of a feminine voice echo, and you strain to look between your thighs to spot your smirking vixen of a best friend, “No thinking of him here.”

She coos before she tips her tongue out, her face dropping into your middle. Whimpering loudly, you arch your back off the bed as you feel her take you into her mouth, wet muscle playing around with your juices. She slid it up, down and across, pinch your nipple as she sucked on your nectar.

“oh my- I-Ire-” You hear her snicker, her laughter shooting straight through your spine. While still in a foggy daze, you squeeze the vibrator in your left palm, before pressing the small power button with your thumb. Your breathing was heavy, the device buzzing slightly in your hand as you brought it down.

For a moment you hesitated, the object’s frequency intimidating you. So, with a deep breath, you shut your lids, connecting the vibrator with your clit. Immediately a wave of pleasure washed over you, your eyes shot open as you groaned. It was as if Irene’s tongue was molded to the shape deep inside of you. Your body raised in temperature.  

Although only connected to one part, you could feel the toy course throughout every limb. It left you shivering as you clutched the bedsheet beside your hips with your wet digits. You could feel your thighs, drenched in your sweetness, the air around them cooler, softer. Irene’s tongue increased in speed, sending your mind spiraling.

“O-OH mm-” You don’t know why you were trying to hold back your voice, but you couldn’t help it for some reason.

“Don’t hold back.” You suddenly hear, and you break out of your bewilderment to find another person on top of you. Shadowing over you was straight black hair, lusting doe eyes and soft rabbit features passionately regarding you. “I want to hear you.” He whispers as his large arms enclose around your head.

Why was he here?

Did you somehow want him to be here? You didn’t know. All you did know was that there was a knot forming inside of you, coiling around your insides with a viper like grip as you continued to fall into his stare. It felt so good, so euphoric. The pleasure was addicting.

You felt like you were going crazy, fingers slowly linking to your cunt once again. Rubbing circles as the device vibrated through your bundle of nerves. This wasn’t right, you shouldn’t be thinking about him. But the heat from his body made you feel lightheaded, whimpers escaping you like crazy. It was so wrong, but you felt so good in the moment.

“You’re so pretty like this.” Jungkook murmurs, moving away your hair sticking to your face. In a second Jungkook took the device away from you, winking at you. Confused, you tilted your head at him on the pillow before your eyes suddenly rolled into the back of your head.

He amped the vibration, placing the toy halfway inside of you. Your hips moved off the bed, fingers leaking wet with your nectar as you played with your clit. You wanted him inside of you so bad. It’s not that you wanted to conceive this very image, the sane you would never ever do something like this but fuck you don’t know what the fuck was wrong with you in that moment. And you didn’t care.

You imagine Jungkook drilling inside you, his fat dick ripping through your insides as the bed shook with every thrust. That was all it took to push you over the edge. And soon you were cumming, screaming out his name.

“J-Jungkook, yes! Oh God!”  

A heavy wave of pleasure washes over you, stars obstructing your sight. Your mouth hung open as your pussy convulsed. Shuddering through the tremendous sensation, you fall back onto the mattress with a thump, and the toy helps you ride out your orgasm.

“Haah...haa...”

BzzzBzzz

The only noises that were left were of your excessive breathing and the strumming of the bullet vibrator. It felt like all your energy had suddenly left you, you forgot how powerful orgasms were until now. Soon finding it to be painful, you remove the toy from inside you, pressing the power button as you hold it up to your face. It was sticky wet, your juices smothered around the pink device like glaze.

Glazed donuts.  

Blushing, you throw it to the side, still trying to process everything that just occurred. Wow. That was…Irene…and then Jungkook. You jump around, squealing into your pillow. What just happened?! Why did you imagine those two out of everyone? How will you ever face them again?

Even after everything was done, you couldn’t help the way your body felt so thrilled and satisfied. For some reason, you felt like you were floating on cloud 9. It felt so out of place, you hadn’t felt this way with Jimin ever. Not even on your best days. Who knew something so taboo could turn you on so much?  

Fuck.

You turn so your back rested against the bed again, before slamming your hands onto your face. Were you going to have to explain all of this to your therapist? No way were you going to tell her who you jacked off to. As you were overthinking and worrying about your near future, you suddenly began to feel very drained and numb. You blinked lazily, the familiar weariness akin to sleep.  

It took you by surprise, you hadn’t been able to fall asleep without sleeping pills for a long time now. As you bring your arms back down to look at the ceiling, you’re faced with your empty bedroom one again. Jimin had always been gentle with you, hadn’t he? It was another reason you loved him as much as you did. When you both made love, it felt like he could never hurt you.

Reality kicks in and a longing surrounds you. It was inevitable, you were bound to remember him again. You couldn’t help but wish your husband was here with you to share your happiness.

You wish he was here with you to see your growth, to be proud of you. You wish he was here with you and you couldn’t help but feel that yearning for him like you’ve always felt. You really wish he could love you. Looks like you hadn’t exactly passed this task, since you weren’t supposed to think about Jimin but you didn’t care. More than anything, you wanted him home.

Old habits don’t just die after one success.

So, as the thought of your vacant house infected you, before you could dwell on the topic further. Before you took another pill, feeding your insides with your own poison. Become a moping drone, a sickened shell once again, you shut your eyes. Blocked out the evil world before you and relaxed every muscle, every scar in your brain. It was the only thing you could think of doing. Thankfully your spent energy agrees with you.

Before Jimin could take over you once more, without ever lifting a muscle.

You fell asleep, letting yourself feel drained and dreaming of the wedding and the bright shore.

It was inevitable.

Your eyes flutter open to a soft white room. The sunlight was peeking through the curtains, lighting up the canvas across your orbs. You wriggle your toes about, slowly seeping into full conscious.

Once you can make out the ceiling above you, you stretch your muscles before sitting up.

“Ji-”

Turning on your side, you place your palm down on the cotton sheets beside you. A palm you meant to place on a body that was meant to be on the bed. Beside you.

“Right.” You whisper, staring at the cold spring empty of life and bringing your hand back to your lap.

No one’s there.

Sighing, you swing your legs off the bed and onto the floor – the fluffy carpet molding into your feet. You push yourself up, the action causing the sheets to slither off your naked body and expose your nipples to the chill atmosphere. Again, you stretch your tendons, raising your arms above your head and lifting the bottom soles of your feet off the ground. Your back curves and your eyes clenched shut. It’s been a while since you had fell asleep without pills.

Blinking lazily at nothing in particular, you sluggishly turn your body to the direction of the bathroom. You begin to saunter across your room, reveling in the peaceful silence of a sunny Sunday. As you’re a few steps from the door, your gaze catches onto the full-length body mirror set just aside.

It makes you halt in your tracks. A moment passes by before you step closer to your reflection in fascination.

Have you always looked like this?

Is this the way your hair falls over you face? You think as you run your fingers through your soft locks – bringing forward a single strand to the front of your face to focus in on. Slowly your gaze falls back to the mirror and you tilt your head. Sliding your digits onto your face, the tips of your pointer and middle fingers caressing the peak of your nose, gradually underneath your jaw and upon your neck.

Is this how your body was shaped?

You take it all in. Captivated by the glowing expanse of your silky skin, the gentle rhythm of your chest, and the highs of your curves you ran a palm over. Shuddering as a strangely new sensation waltzes within you. The sun’s rays wrap around you like gold, highlighting every mole and freckle settled into your casing. Scars and marks from forgotten memories finding shelter under the spotlight. Every secret exposed in the flare of the replication. It felt like you had just stepped out of a decaying cocoon – stitched together by the molding twined fabric of your uncertainties.

And the you who emerged shone.

There were sparks of glitter all around you. Tiny angels spinning threads of new-found purity onto the secret corners of your soul.

A once caged bird, with virginal wings as large as her innocent heart. Who wears her crown fragile; while her refined mind heals from the battles with the toxicity in amour. Her beauty is an ode to the agile cosmic, lucky enough to hold her able within its seams. Your dimensions were your unique, the line between pleasure and hurt fitted across your stomach.

It was beautifully raw outside that rotten cocoon. You spread your arms out, relishing in the way your body weaves between space and time as your insides melt perfectly into the shape of your skin. Every bone, every ounce of lush, the fruits of your divine frame. The mountains and hills spread amongst your flesh – the caves and burrows layered one on top of the other.  It was all beautiful. Raw, real and radiant. Like a pallet with too many colors splattered amongst the wood, splashes from aches and pain and memories and gain.

Your pallet.

As the pearls of your pupils rake through your figure, they suddenly land on your unclothed core. You let out a shaky exhale, eyes glossing and lashes fluttering. Carefully you guide your hand to your lower region until your fingers make contact with your wet folds. A shiver runs through you, goosebumps poking through your soft pores. Awakening the images of last night; of the whimpers and aches. Of the satisfaction and the explosion of your confined stellar.

This was you. Your perfect frame, your flawless physique, your structured identity.

Was it the early morning air? The first good sleep in years? Or the sensual night before?

…Did it matter?

A smile graces your lips as you wrap your arms around yourself. The slick from your nether regions painted amongst your fingers staining the upper part of your left arm.

You were just happy to be awake.

_

“They’re pretty, right?”

He holds up the peonies clutched in his hand at you, tilting his head so you could see him just behind the stunning flowers. He was everything for you; your energy, your medicine, your happiness. You wanted to melt.

“Yes.” You reply, trying to sound happy; less depressed.

He frowns and it goes straight to your heart, “Sorry”

“For?” He asks, throwing the plant on the couch. Not making eye contact.

Suddenly you wanted to cry. You’re too sensitive to all of his emotions and he knows it. Uses it to his pleasure. It was amazing – how some words had so much power over you.

For being sad. For not living up to your expectations.

“I love them Jimin.” You smile, placing your hands on each side of his face and turning him to you. “I love you.”

And he’s happy. The sun is back on his face.

On the other hand, you feel like the unlit side of the moon. Especially when Jimin engulfs you in a smothering hug.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

From me or Jessica? You think. It had only been a week since the dire revelation and your insides were crumbling. He had sex with you time and time again, but you felt nothing. Something was wrong with you, but you didn’t want to tell him.

You wanted him to be happy. Even if you hated yourself.

As you fit into his arms, you stare at your reflection in the mirror on the back wall. How ugly…how unworthy. No wonder he cheated on you. No wonder he found someone better.

He loves you too, he says.

But you couldn’t help hate yourself.

Ok. What the hell was a T-front string?

You squint your eyes at the screen, rereading Irene’s text for the tenth time.  

Your heels were clacking the floor below you, as you speed walked through the mall with a small giftbag in hand. A while after your little intimate moment with yourself, you had called up your friend to speak to her about the rejuvenation you experienced in excitement. She was very happy for you, giggling through the receiver like a child. It made you smile.

Although, no matter how much she pestered you, you refused to spill the beans about who you ended up jerking off about. Irene was persistent, naming off every actor and model she knew. And you on the other hand had no idea who half of them were. Thankfully, she couldn’t get you to spill the beans. You dreaded her reaction if she ever did find out.

After warding off her interrogation and chatting about something mundane, she had suggested for you to go to the mall so she can help you find some useful ‘items’ for women since you had nothing else planned. Your interest was piqued, thinking it might be items such as the world’s most comfortable bra or scrunchies that never go missing. Yet as you parked your car in the lot, and tentatively made your way inside – you had given up all hope for your superpowered hair ties.

None of the items Irene had been texting you made any sense.  

‘Double D Balls Dildo. Make sure the balls are squishy!’    

‘Shower Sex Foothold. Very useful for shaving your legs. Other things as well I guess.’

???

In an array of confusion, you had gone up to a random employee to ask him what exactly Doc Johnson’s “The Fist” was. The paling look he gave you in return has you traumatized for life. Never again would you ask anyone to explain anything Irene tells you.

As she continued to text you severe objects to buy, you just shook your head while buying a little something of your own. Letting her think you were following what she said of course. You could just imagine the look on her face, the tiny snicker as she continues to lightheartedly play around with your innocence. There was a small jewelry shop you loved in this mall, one Jimin would bring you to after he got a promotion or when it was your birthday.

You bought a small bracelet for Irene from said shop; to thank her for her friendship and for listening to you mope about Jimin. Satisfied with your purchase, and only this purchase – you decided to head out of the place. Your legs were practically running out of the mall, trying to get back home. It’s actually been like this for the past few days.

Since he disappeared.

Every time you stepped out of your apartment, even for a few minutes, you would rush back at twice the speed. It was as if…you were hoping that once you step inside. Once you’re in the sanctuary of your house, he’d be there too. He’d turn around and you could run into his warm arms again. And he’d promise you – genuinely promise – he’ll never leave again. Ever. It was a fairytale reunion made for a dreamy girl. Ridiculous, but you still wished it to be true.

For some reason, you were especially eager to get home today. Even more than usual. When you made it to the first floor and could see the doors you came in from, your phone abruptly buzzed again. Huffing, you open the device, trying to see what nonsense Irene sent you this time.  

You were too busy checking your phone to see where you were going. Your legs were rushing a bit too much to notice the other pairs of legs walking in your direction.

“Whoa-”

“Oww-”

That’s when you ended up bumping into another body with a small thud. The phone in your hand crashing onto the ground, sliding away from your peripheral vision on the floor. Both of you wobbled around a bit but grabbed onto the others arms to seek balance. Once you stood sturdy, you immediately searched around for your missing phone with your head turning about in a frenzy. It didn’t take you long to spot it as it didn’t travel too far, ending up right next to the girl’s leg. In relief you sigh, bending down to pick it up to brush the specks of dust and surveille the damage. The girl on your arm doesn’t move an inch, like she was frozen in place.

After you’ve made sure it’s not broken and everything was working properly, you smiled. Looking up at the girl to apologize.

“Oh, I’m sorr-”

A gasp escapes your throat.

Your eyes instantly widen – in an eerily painful way as your jaw fails you. Your insides plummet with a chaotic mix of anger, confusion, and dread swirling through you – thundering up a storm that has you stagnant. The atmosphere takes a sudden drop in temperature and a chill runs down your spine at the cold air. Subconsciously, you take a step back. Away from the sight before you.

“H-hey ___, long time no see.”

In return, the girl stands there in as much discomfort and anxiousness as you. Shifting on her feet, she sends you an awkward smile. A smile you were used to seeing daily at one point in your life. A smile you grew to reluctantly dislike over the years. Your muscles start to constrict.

“Mina.” A whisper leaks from your lips.

Clink, clank.

You listen in to the busy atmosphere surrounding you while sitting still in your wooden seat. Waitresses passing by, the small chatter, the clinging and clanging of cups and forks. It was all more interesting to you than the predicament at hand right now. There was nothing to really focus in on, except the table in front of you and its stiff glass casing. Which you were eyeing with lasers shooting out of your orbs.

The tension in the air was thick.

And the girl sitting opposite to you was looking at you a bit too anxiously, failing to be subtle with her regard. You could tell she was playing with her fingers underneath the table, a habit you had noticed many times before. Almost four years ago.

“H..how have you been?” She starts, making you look up at her.

As soon as you acknowledge her, her face drops. Like she was afraid of your judgement. She clears her throat.  

“I-it’s nice to see you again…” She strains, “After all these years…you look great.”

There’s an awkward silence that goes by as you’re slow to register her words. It was as if your brain doesn’t want to recognize the situation you’re in – trying to run away from you rather than recall any more past memories.

“It’s been quite long.” You manage to make out, “I’ve been well.”

Why did you lie to her? Were you that afraid of her finding out the truth?

“T-that’s good.” Mina replies a bit too fast.

…

Another awkward silence engulfs your vicinity as you both proceed to poke holes through the table.

“All right, here you are!” A shout wakes you both, making your shoulders jump. “One glass of water and one small coffee, one cream and two sugars.”

A lady places down your coffee cup in front of you, and you exhale at the balmy steam warming up your otherwise cold face.

“Anything else?” She chirps with a small tray in hand

“That’ll be all, thank you.” Mina responds to which the lady nods and leaves with a smile

Mina watches you as you stir your coffee mindlessly. You could tell there was a lot running through her mind like you.  

She hasn’t changed much. Just a couple of alters you could spot. Like how her hair’s a bit longer now, reaching just above the conjecture between her neck and her shoulder and dyed a darker color. A few more piercings graced the left side of her ear now. There was also a small tattoo on her ring finger – some sort of symbol in a mix of purple and red. On the other hand, her style hadn’t changed at all. She still wore those oversized black hoodies and white sneakers. You hide a smile as her dark top almost drowns her.

Mina was as beautiful as you remember.

Suddenly, she huffs, picking up her water.  

Gulp, gulp, gulp

You gape at her with wide eyes as she drinks the whole glass in one go. She sets it down with a clang, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Then her orbs connect with yours, as she continues to stareat you with an unreadable expression. For a second, you catch her regarding the gift bag by your side.

“___, I-” She starts off strong, faced focused and seeming like she knows what she’s going to say.

But as her linger remains, she loses her grip – mouth slacking and concentrated expression failing.

“I…”

“What is it?” You say in a low yet clear tone of voice

“I…God! I don’t know how to say this!” She places her elbows on the table, burrowing her face into her palms. Her outburst turns a few heads to which you shift uncomfortably to.

“Are you alright?” You reach over and place a hand on her wrist, which has her removing her hand covering her face to stare at the place you were touching her. She spots your ring.

“Are you still with Jimin?” She whispers

“…yes.” You say, although it’s not exactly the truth.

You retract your hand and her eyes follow it till they land back on you.

“How is he?” Mina asks, even quieter than before

“He’s well.” You’re not sure how else to answer. Honestly, you didn’t even want to answer.

She scoffs, “Good for him.”

The hate in her tone catches you off guard, your eyebrows furrowing as you stare at the now frowning girl.

“…Wha-”

“Good for him. Park Jimin. Great. Wonderful. Of fucking course he’d be well, he’s the one and only Park Jimin. The nicest guy in the world. Light of everyone’s fucking life. Sweet, kind, charming Park Jimin. Let me go jump off a cliff.”

She spits each word with abhorrence laced in her tongue. Her eyes squint in anger and her fist clenches the ends of her long sleeves. You sit there, shocked and confused.

When she notices the expression on your face, she unwinds. Moving her arms off the table and sitting up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you…I just…” Taking a deep breath, she closes here eyes to contemplate something. Before looking up at you once again, “I always wanted to apologize for what I did to you.”

…

A third silence passes you both. Your brain was now fully awake and taking in each and every word.

“There’s not a day I don’t think about it…what I did to you…the mistakes I’ve made.” Mina’s voice cracks halfway as her eyes become glossy. For some reason, your chest starts to ache. “I regretted it every single day ever since you left. And I always, always wanted to talk to you one last time. I-if that’s okay with you?”

She halts to study your reaction. You nod, urging her to continue.

“…It’s not a secret – what I did over the course of half a year. What I allowed to happen…” She sniffles, staring at the gift bag as a tear falls down her eye. “It’s just…you meet this guy, right? A polite, charming, extraordinarily handsome guy, and he’s great. And he’s married which is also great but-”

“He sees you, like…he actually sees you for you and he befriends you. And he doesn’t tell you to change unlike other guys. He doesn’t turn his nose up at your quirks and doesn’t hold animosity in his eyes. He tells you his secrets…or what you think are his secrets and he appreciates you.”

She takes a deep breath, her nose running and cheeks rosy. Taking a napkin from the table’s corner, she wipes the tears littering her face as your own eyes well up. So this was how Jimin was in her mind compared to yours. There were a lot of similarities and a lot of differences.

“And so,” Mina strains, “You fall for him. Even though it’s wrong and even though he’s m-married. Even though his wife is a wonderful person, y-you fall so, so hard. And when he kisses you while he’s a drunk, giggling, beautiful mess…you don’t stop him.”

You close your eyes as the first tears makes its way down your cheek. Even though there were a lot of differences, the feelings were the same.

“Y-you don’t stop after the first time. Nor after the second and then the third… and it just keeps going on and on and on. Until it’s too late to stop. Even though the guilt eats you alive. Even though you stop eating and stop sleeping and no one can see the bags under your eyes, when he smiles at you-”

Mina shows you a pained smile, “When he smiles at you, and his eyes crinkle and his nose buttons. You think it’s all – the pain, the secrets – it’s all worth it. Because you just feel so damn special for some reason. So, you throw yourself down the drain, become the woman you never wanted in a relationship that would never go anywhere. You lie until your teeth start rotting and hide until the shame stops consuming your heart.”

You wipe your tears with the back of your hand, trying to calm your senses by pursing your lips.

“Then one day…he tells you he doesn’t need you anymore. That you never meant anything to him and it’s over.” Mina’s stop crying now. She stares at the table once again, this time looking at her reflection in the glass. “And you don’t put up a fight, because you knew this was coming. It was inevitable. A real relationship can never be based on a lie. All you’re left with is the person you’ve become.”

“In the end…all you did was become a liar that hates herself. Someone who hurt a woman who’s been nothing but kind to her. Someone who shut everyone out till the one guy she’s wanted shuts her out… that’s the conclusion.”

You let out a shaky exhale, your body lagging and mind numbing. There’s yet another moment of silence as you process everything you’ve just heard. Your feelings…were just the same.

“I’m sorry.” Your eyes shoot up as Mina speaks up once again, “I’m sorry for what I did to you and for all the things I let happen.”

“I understand if you don’t forgive me. And I understand if you never want to see me again. I…just wanted to tell you that you were great. You were a great wife, and a great friend…a great cook haha...and a great person. You deserved better than all of this. You deserved better than all of us.”

“And...and I know how it feels…I…I dated someone after Jimin… and huh ironically-” Mina lets out a breathless laugh, “He cheated on me… and I know I deserve I-”

“No.” You interrupted her, “No one deserves that.”

Mina pauses as she stares at you, “It really hurts…it’s not just them loving someone else, but them breaking your trust and connection. Completely disregarding your feelings and disrespecting you. And something like that coming from someone you love – someone’s who’s supposed to love you…breaks you apart from the inside. And that’s why I now understand what kind of a person Park Jimin was. A manipulative, lying piece of shit who immediately uses people’s vulnerabilities for his own pleasures.”

…

“I hope one day you’re able to move on from what I’ve done but…I will always carry what I did to you. I’ll continue to fall into toxic relationships and continue to have trust and commitment issues for the rest of my life.”

You frown at the feeble girl in front of you. Was this what you wanted from her? From Jessica? Is this what you want for Tina? Would this satisfy your idea of karma?

“Thank you…for apologizing…for speaking your truth.” You began slowly, Mina’s inflamed face staring at you,  

“I always tried to understand why you did it. How you could do that to me when you’ve met me and knew me and…my head was just a mess for the longest time…but now…I just hope you’re able to move on from this as well…I don’t know if I can truly forgive you but I don’t want to hate you any longer. I spent so much energy trying to hate you and the other girls…I compared myself to you, I looked down on you…I ran away from you.  

“But what was it that you owed me at that my husband didn’t owe me a hundred times more?”

Trying to piece your thoughts together you sigh, “The you I conjured up in my mind was a lot more characterless and viler. But now it just seems like I was trying to blame anybody but Jimin for his own mistakes. That’s the whole idea behind homewrecker, huh? I blamed you, I blamed my mother, I blamed myself. I blamed every single person except Jimin. And I shouldn’t have. There was no one else at greater fault. Not even you… and I no longer want to do that. I no longer want to put the blame on others.”

Mina looks away once her eyes tear up again. Her body felt sore and her insides twisted painfully. There’s no greater pain than the guilt of a woman.

“In the end we were all trying to find our happiness…anyway we could. I guess…we just searched for it in the wrong places.”

The rest of the sudden meet up was spent in silence. This abrupt hush being the last one before you finished your drink and observed the traffic around you. It felt like you both had said what you wanted, like your chests were finally free of such a huge burden. What was left was a empty feeling, satisfying but still an end.

Soon, it was time for goodbyes.

And then there you were, driving home from the longest trip you’ve ever had at a mall. You sat there, steering your car on the road, thinking just one thing. All this time, you’ve remembered nothing but bad things about her. About Jessica. And now about Tina. But what was the point in accusing them?  

What type of satisfaction had you gained from hating other women?

Did it stop your husband from cheating? Did it dissolve his sins?

What sort of people were Jessica and Tina, apart from the characters your imagination had invented?  

There were new questions you needed answers to. And there was just one person who could help you answer them all.

Just one.

Jimin was in the balcony, drinking his night away again.

Tina wouldn’t shut up tonight, he didn’t want to deal with her. But right now, he didn’t have anyone he could trust as much as her so his feet were planted in her damn apartment. As he looks up at the bleary sky, his mind wanders back to you. What were you doing at the moment?

Tsk, he scolds himself then. Why did he always think about you in the end? What did you mean to him? NOTHING. You were a toy. A toy he ended up going overboard with almost 6...no 7 years ago from tomorrow.

A toy that was causing him problems...  

Jin had called this morning. “Why doesn’t your wife know where you are?”

It infuriated him; how dare he be questioned like this. And that bastard was one to talk, he was with Jimin playing wingman anytime Jimin needed a quick fuck. Telling him he knows men shouldn’t be tied down to one woman, that men were made to pump out their population into mankind. So why was everyone acting different now?

Why were you?

He kept you under his control for so long. How did you even find out about Tina?

Why was he?

Jimin couldn’t eat for the past few days. Nothing tasted like your cooking so he couldn’t swallow it down. His sleep was fucked up and he tried to wear himself out going to the gym or having sex with Tina or someone else but nothing worked. If anything, he just felt worse. He kept remembering the cologne you came in with that one night, just which bastard were you fucking?

His grip on the glass beer is so tight, he could hear it crack. No, you couldn’t have. Jimin was sure you wouldn’t even think about another man as long as you had him. Who would?

As his heart continues to ache and yearn without him knowing why, mind numb and limbs sore, his phone begins to ring.

Speak of the devil.

...

You studied the phone in your hand, as your thumb trembled while hovering over his name.  

Why was this so hard? You’ve been upfront with him for a while now. So, what is it about today – this moment particularly – where your insides would rather shut down than hear his voice?

As you once again back out from pressing his name on your phone screen, you huff, sitting up in frustration. It shouldn’t be this hard, it’s really not a big deal. So what if you had no idea where your husband was for the past week? So what if he had his own wife sent to voicemail so many times that she had become too traumatized to call him? And so what if the biggest day of your life was tomorrow and he was still MIA? All you had to do right now, was ask about his location. Drown the wild thoughts and insecurities in your head with confirmation from the love of your life.

He owes you that much.

So, with a loud sigh, you click on his name. Ready to face the truth.

Your gut drops when it rings. Falling deeper and deeper with the first ring.

Second ring.  

Third ring.  

Fou-

“Hello?”

Gasping at the voice, you immediately put your phone next to your ear.

“Y-yes hello?”

“…___.”

You wanted to cry. He actually picked up, he really answered. “J…Jimin.”

Your whole body shivered, as if it remembered Jimin existed. He wasn’t some fever dream you mind conjured up. There was so much you wanted to tell him, which spiked up the adrenaline in your system. Oh, how you longed to speak to him.

“I heard you called Jin…” Was his immediate response. After being away from home for so long, after leaving you in the dark. He was more concerned about you talking to someone about how he left you.

“Yeah…I-I did.”

“Why?” He sounded annoyed

“Because I didn’t know how else to reach you…”

“You shouldn’t have called Jin.” He spoke again, firmly.

Biting your bottom lip, you hold back your tears. Does he think it was easy for you? Doesn’t he realize how embarrassed you were? Can’t he understand that you wouldn’t have called him if he just picked up his phone? Jin’s seen you before, he’s made you laugh before, you know him. He’s a very charming person, it’s why he’s one of Jimin’s few coworkers that you genuinely liked. Also one of the first friends Jimin made when you moved into this city.  

It’s why you were terrified that when you make the call…his high opinion of you would change. That to him you’d look like a pathetic, desperate woman whose husband casted aside. You felt so much shame and if you truly, frantically didn’t need his help, you would have never asked.

Doesn’t he know that? Does he care about you at all?

“I…I’m sorry.” You whisper

He doesn’t respond. No, you didn’t want to blame him.

“Jimin…I’m so sorry for everything…I got ahead of myself. Please Jimin…”

Still, silence.

“Jimin…I don’t know where you are…I don’t know what you’re doing but I know that I love you. I love you and I miss you and I need you so much that it hurts.”

…

“Jimin…would you please…please come home to me? Please.”

“I don’t know, ___.” He responds tiredly, “I just don’t know who you are anymore.”

By now you should have known it was useless for you to hold back tears. “You stood in that altar with me, right? You took my hand and told me you wanted to stay by my side forever. You said forever didn’t you Jimin?”

Again, you shared radio silence and you close your eyes and imagine him. His beautiful self, his past innocence. What should you do to capture his attention?

“I met Mina yesterday.”

At that you hear his breath hitch.

“W-what…where?”

“At the city mall…she’s still as pretty, you know.” You let out a giggle

“You’re prettier.” He jokes. It was so out of place but he said it casually.

You laugh. You laugh and laugh and laugh until you start to sob. Breath heaving and lungs sore, you sob into the receiver. Your face was wet, and your nose was running, you were sure you have never looked more unattractive. Being close to him once again opened up the flood of your insecurities, made you feel hyper aware of your appearance. Shame and embarrassment enfold in you once more and you feel your throat close in on yourself.

Him just casually joking around reminds you of the old days. Where you might have been broken inside but Jimin was here to mend you outside. And that’s what you needed right now, for him to glue your shards back together again. A porcelain doll is always hollow inside anyway.  

“…_-___.”

You cry louder at the sound of his voice. Your Jimin…you loved him so much.

“J-Jimin-hic-…pleas-please -hic- some home…I’ll change Jimin, I-I’ll be better, so please.”

He listens to you cry and his chest aches like someone pulled his heart out. This was something he was never good at, dealing with someone’s feelings. That’s why he never let anyone get too close, even if they felt like they were. Everyone…but you. Fuck, he shakes his head. No, you meant nothing.

But he still wanted to console you.

“T…the anniversary dinner is tomorrow, right?” He starts, his voice uncertain, “I…I’ll come then.”

“You will?” You hiccup, your own tone unsure

“I will.” He says, and this time he sounded confident. “I will come back home ___, just wait for me…”

“Promise me…”  

What else could you wish for?  

“I promise.”  

How could a little more waiting hurt you?

Jimin shuts of the phone and sighs. It seems like you were back under him, which is a relief. He smiles then, his heart soaring at the thought of seeing you again. Just imagining the look on your face would be enough to keep him satisfied for a long time.

See? You love her. A voice interrupts. It came from deep inside his chest. Conscious, they call it. He hated it more than anything. The only person Jimin loved was himself and the only person he needed was himself.

He’s not like those pathetic people that lust after him immorally. There were no similarities between him and them, there never would be. His conscious seems to disagree though, telling him once again, how much he loves her, someone like her.

Growling at his brain, he smashes the bottle down onto the balcony’s pavement. The shards scatter, glimmering in the moonlight of the pale city. He could see himself in the reflection.

And for the first time, he didn’t like who stared back.

You were waiting.

On that time of year again.

June 17th, the most special day of your life.  

You still remember it quite well; the well-lit Azul sky, the light specks of sand, the calming roar of the clear waves. It was the most beautiful morning in the universe.  

Yet you were a wreck of nerves, sweaty palms and jittery teeth. Jimin’s dad placed a hand on your quivering shoulder, your eyes shooting the gentle senior as he smiles at you consolingly. You were never close to Jimin’s parents, nonetheless they were always tremendously kind to you. A part of you felt so undeserving of their love, but Jimin would remind you that you have earned everything good in the world. Jimin…you couldn’t believe in a few moments you were marrying the love of your life. How and when did your life take such a drastic turn for the better?

Snapping from your reverie, you shyly nod your head at your new father and place your hand under his outstretched arm. And soon it starts – the piano melody signaling the curtains withdrawal.

As the fabric was removed from your vision, the picture-esqu sight came into view in front of you, making you hold your breath and faintly tighten your grip on the elder man’s arm. The audience immediately turned their heads, a pleasant expression of awe plastered on their faces. White and pink carnations, complimenting your long lacey dress, decorated the virgin painted benches and their petals littered the bleached soft satin carpet.  

And in front of it all – the audience, the flowers, your mother – stood Jimin. You lost control of your senses when you saw him. He stood perfectly still, hands clasped together and slightly taller than usual with his heeled derby’s and straightened posture. His black suit was stitched without a visible flaw, even in this bright daylight. It elongated his limbs and made them seem sturdier – rather well put as he jut his chest out ever so softly. Your eyes couldn’t break away, even as you began advancing towards him. Jimin too, stared right at you unwaveringly, like he could see no one but you at the moment.  

His hair was gelled back and brush to the side, letting the sunlight highlight his ethereal features. When you reached the end of the carpet, Jimin’s father took a hold of your hand and handed it to Jimin. As soon as Jimin’s fingers touched your palm, a spark of fire traveled underneath your skin and your arm broke out in goosebumps. He led you up the three-step stairs, into the altar where the priest stood in front of you both.  

“You look gorgeous.” He whispers with a cheeky smile

You break out into a shy smile, some of the rashness in your nerves leaving you.

His eyes never leave yours as the priest starts speaking and you could feel your own eyes well up as you hear the quiet sobs of Jimin’s mother.

After the small sermon, it was time for that big question.

“Do you Park Jimin, take ___ to be your lawfully wedded wife? To cherish her in sickness and in health? And never leave her lonely?”

For a moment you thought you saw a pause in Jimin’s smile. That there was a sudden weakness flashing across his orbs. But it was over, very, very quickly.

“I do.” He states proudly, causing all the unease in your lungs to vanish.

As the priest repeats the question to you, you take a deep breath, ready to state your obvious answer.

Suddenly though, you catch the eyes you’ve been avoiding the whole time.

Your mother. Sitting in the front row.

Without a smile.

“Don’t do this to yourself.”

“Mom, please…I’m getting married in a few hours. Why is this the only thing you have to say to me?”

The older lady inhales, her nostrils flaring in exhaustion. “I’m saying this for your own good.”

“No! You’re saying this for your own sick pleasure!”

“How could you think that way about your own mother?”

“…because let’s face it mom…you’ve never cared about me…”

She went silent after that. 10 minutes of arguing and this was what made her silent.

“Alright.” She spit, bitterly. “But when he ends up leaving you, don’t come crying to me.”

…

“I never have.”

“Madam?”

You jump from your daydream.

“Pauillac?”

A well dressed, older waiter stands in front of your table. He held out a bottle of expensive looking wine.

“Oh, thank you.” You say, holding out your glass.

Fast forward to seven years, you set up a reservation at the most popular 5-star restaurant in your city. It’s something you’ve done every year for four years, a month ahead because of the place’s demand and limited seating options. Even though your nerves were eating at you, you kept yourself alive. Today is the day you’ll see Jimin again. He’ll be back home again.  

Your body was yearning for his touch again, you felt yourself getting hot and cold at times for no reason. But it was alright, you were happy.  

You’ve gotten your hair, makeup and nails done at a salon today, wanting to look beautiful for your husband. It was red in color and light weight, to not seem overbearing, and you wish Jimin would like it on you. Imagining him complimenting you had you unintentionally beaming. Anything and everything he’d say tonight was bound to have you convulsing inward, you were just so excited to see him again.  

Having arrived 15 minutes early, you mess with the napkins and cutlery, making sure everything was straight and preppy. Your nerves were on high making you fidget and glance at the door every few seconds. Jimin’s promise rang inside your head as assurance. There was a letter clutched in your hand. Since there were so many – way too many things you wanted to tell him, you decided to write a letter instead.

He’ll be here. I know him.

Time went by a bit too slowly, so you took some sips of your wine. What should you say first to him. Oh, you should thank him for keeping his promise. That would make him happy. Then you should apologize for that night, negotiate carefully to not scare him away. You’d tell him of the progress you made, about how you were learning to stand on your own two feet so you wouldn’t bother him again.

Whatever you did, you could not afford to make him feel upset again.

As you continued to carefully plan out your time with Jimin, a voice resounded in your head.

“You spent your life trying to become someone they’d love, that you forgot about who you are.”

…

You were doing it again. Of course, you didn’t want to apologize to him…but you were more concerned with what pleased him. Sighing, you took another sip of your wine.

Where was he? You were beginning to get angsty. Tapping your foot against the floor, you signaled the waiter for more wine. 20 minutes had passed. 30. 40. Soon you were bombarded with voices echoing your head.

Lin. Irene. Yoongi. Mina. Your mother.

Everything they said over the past month haunting your insides until you shook. Stop it, you wanted to yell. All you wanted was to be in your husband’s arms. You aren’t stupid for yearning for love. Jimin promised.

1 hour.

You had begun to stare at the people around you, dressed so lavishly. They all look so content. How lucky they were. There was a senior couple a couple of tables away from you, the lady feeding something sweet to her husband. It made you smile, and your heart hurt even more. Jimin, please come soon.

2 hours.

Where was he? People were starting to notice you could tell, their shaped became nothing but eyes that beheld you with animosity. Eyes poking you in places that left you sore. You wanted to jump into a cold river. Wash away the restrictive feeling around your throat. No, you aren’t stupid for trusting Jimin again.

With a deep breath, you press his number, holding it to your ear with pursed lips. He doesn’t pick up. But you dial it again. What if something happened to him, you worry. There was a similar feeling inside of you. The one you felt when you visited this office that night. Your heart and mind pleaded with him.

Please, Jimin.

“…Hello?” A groggy voice answers

You smile – you actually fucking smile for the tiniest millisecond. Before realizing that wasn’t his voice. No, that high-pitched feminine voice wasn’t his. Your whole face falls.

“Ms. ___?”

Tina.

“H-hello, Ms-” You overhear some shuffling before you hear him.

“Kitten, who is i-”

No longer concerned, you hang up. You were so stupid.

Your face twitches, mind still frozen before the tears fall like rain. It was raining outside too.  

In seconds, your makeup’s all ruined, and the collar of your dress is strangling you. With so many people in the vicinity, you try to stop your tears but it’s no use – you can feel a few stares burning a hole through your head. You don’t even care to acknowledge the waiter who cheerily walks up to you pushing a cart.

“Ma’am here’s your oh-”  

He stops dead in his tracks in front of you, who’s silently heaving into the air. He’s at loss of what to do as he gapes at your wrecked state, in his sweaty palms he weakly holds the handle of the cart. On that cart laid a large 2 layer lavishly decorated vanilla-swirl cake. Jimin’s favorite. With two words written at the top in pink strawberry icing.

‘Happy Anniversary’

You had no clue where you were headed.  

The hush of the car pushed you forward. Your grip on the handle was deathly, frigid arms barely holding it eerily still and not crashing into one of the pawn shops on the right out of pure fury.

After the tears came the rage. You were so, so angry. And you didn’t give one single fuck.

Fucking Jimin, perfect, lovable, charming Jimin. Fuck him.

How dare he?

How fucking dare he not show up? How fucking dare he embarrass you like that? He lied to you yet again. And you, like the pathetic woman you are, fell for it again. It was like a drug, the wrath and despair within your system. Traveling across every nerve and every stream. Feeling like tiny needles prickling you all at once. You were so fucking angry.

It kept replaying in your mind. Tina’s groggy voice, her confusion…her pity. You couldn’t control anything, not your breathing nor your anger. All you wanted to do was forget about it all. Before you did something you really regret. So, you sped to the only place that made you forget once before.

You push the breaks to a halt, your body lurching forward at the sudden stop. Turning, you look out the car window, breathing fire through your nose. The loud beating of the music silently shakes the whole road. Bright red neon lights flare into your vicinity, reflecting even the puddles of the long dead rain.

Cypher Road.

With a humorless smirk, you open the car door, stomping your way out of the vehicle. Wasting no time, you sprint into the entrance with a slight stumble in your step and are immediately greeted by dancing bodies. It wasn’t any different than that other day – if anything, busier. The noise was so loud you could stop yourself from thinking for once. You brush past the lively bodies without a care, yet there is a small warmth with each touch of flesh that has you inhaling repeatedly.

Trance.

There is a joy of being here. You hadn’t wiped the scars of mascara off your face, your hair was a mess from you pulling on it. And your dress felt even lighter than before as you stepped onto the dance floor. The atmosphere was blinding, and you had come here to be filled with its addictive ignorance. How sweet it is to not taste the bitter reality.  

It was slow at first. You weren’t in rhythm with anyone, but then again when had you ever been. Spanning your arms out, you brought them above your head as you twirled once, twice – a few times. Every second you unraveled yourself, closing your eyes as your heels glided along the dance floor and you shook and turned. Swung and twist.

You wanted to lose all your energy here. Everything had to melt away.

With every move you made, your mind became light headed, stars amongst your seams exploded and the fast pace of the universe seem to lull. So, softly, you fluttered your lids open.

The first thing you saw were the bright neon green lasers, traveling across the dance floor from the ceiling. Then you notice how the whole floor had slowed, the laughing, the screaming, the motioned limbs. Everyone around you had begun moving along your timeline, your pace – the slow dance with life for the very first time. Somehow the music had lost all it’s upbeat fervor and your ears echoed a blue ambiance in its place. You felt drunk even though you took mere ounces of liquor.

Numb, you were more numb thank drunk. Your movements were sluggish and your mind in a deep haze. This is what it feels like to be high on grief. While your eyes were roaming the dance floor, they landed on someone. There was a girl, around 10 feet away from you, who caught your attention, you’re not sure why. Nothing seemed unordinary about her – not her short dress, nor her pretty face. The club was full of that. She dances as lethargic as the figures around her. What you kept staring at was the necklace she wore, the pure silver being the only color you could see on her as the darkness of the club muted all other colors.

But the second a citrus scent fills the air around you, she is long forgotten. You turn back in front of you to see him.

He, who stood a good 5 feet ahead, taller than Jimin. He, who wore an expensive suit with a colorful scarf tied around his long neck. Dusky hair and sharp eyes, a slight tan and fixed stare. It was in that moment time come to a complete halt. Just you and him, even breathing and secret heartbeats. His face tilted to the side, a smirk present on his inviting lips. You blinked leisurely.

“Nice to see you again, baby.” He said in his deep, sexy voice

You recognized his voice.  

Who could forget it?

The stall door slammed open as your body was pushed inside. For the first few seconds your breath was knocked out of you, just to fit into his mouth once again.

“Mmm-ah-”

His mouth was hot, heavy and wet. The middle of your spine shivered, sending a cursing sensation all throughout your body as you held onto his arms. The warmth of his shoulders kept you giddy, your face tilting to allow his tongue in further. His grip on your hips was tight, his fingers dangerously lurking your ass. You blushed as you felt your chest pressed up against.

He bit your lip and you gasped, your fingers treading into his hair as you tilted your head back. His lips kiss down your jaw, onto your neck as you moan loudly. The air was immense, the four walls of the stall closing in on you and you didn’t care one bit. You wanted to be swallowed. After nipping the soft skin of your neck, he looks up, into your eyes.  

As you stare into the endless abyss by your own glossy orbs, you could swear there was no one more beautiful.

He smirks yet again, making you clench. His thigh parts your legs as his warm hand travels along your hip line before he grabs your dress. Pulling up the light fabric, you feel his hot fingers on your bare skin. You try to hold back your voice but fail miserably as you whimper, holding onto to him tightly. Softly, his hand caresses your thigh, tender and slow. You close your eyes, your brows knitting in what you think was frustration and you hear him chuckle.

God, that voice of his.

The air is knocked out of you as his fingers land on that sweet, sweet spot. Your eyes opening to find his intense stare.

“You’re so wet, fuck.” He huffs, fondling you over your panties

Unable to properly respond, you blush. Biting your lower lip before you begin to rub yourself on him. You’ve never done that before. Taken control of the situation that is.

“Shit.” He mutters, staring you down as you shamelessly stroke yourself against him. Your freedom didn’t last long as he snakes an arm around your back, your chest crashing into his and his long digits slam into your core.  

“Ah!” You grab onto his arms as he scissors your insides.

“Fuck, baby,” He grunts, his low voice making you tremble, “You haven’t been fucked properly for a long time now, have you?”

His dirty words cause you to clench, curses once again slipping out of his mouth, “I’m gonna change that tonight – shit. I’ll fuck you so good, fill your nice and pretty cunt with my cum.”

You couldn’t say anything, lips trembling and back arching as his elongated fingers fucked into you, reaching such a depth that had you weak in the knees. Thankfully his hold was tight.  

“You want that baby? You want to be stuffed with my dick? I bet I’d slip in so – fuck – so easily, I bet I’d cum right away, what do you think baby?”

“Nn- oh, yes-” It slipped out, as his pace became faster, harder and you wanted to thank whoever created him for his blessed fingers. They were much longer than Jimin.

…

Jimin?

…Jimin.

In an instant your eyes shot open, “N-no!”

The guy made out a ‘huh?’ Before you pushed him away with all your strength. His back collided with the right stall wall, as you used the left one to stand up properly.

You suddenly become all too aware of the ring encasing your finger on your trembling hands. The warm atmosphere now defeated by a scorching heat. Your eyes became cloudy as images of your husband flashed through your mind. The man you swore your soul to, the man who you came home to, his smile, his love. What the hell were you doing? You were married! Married! How could you-

“H-hey? Are you alright? Was it something I said?”

The man reaches out for you, causing you to jump.  

“No!” You shout again, your loud voice echoing the stalls. His eyes fill with worry and the guilt threatens to spill out your throat. Did he know you were married? How would he feel about that? What were you doing? WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!  

You were wheezing without any cause. The air in your lungs felt painful, throat sore and breaths ugly. Panic…you were having a panic attack. The walls were closing in and the light of the restroom gave you a pounding headache.

“I-I’m sorr-” You manage to choke out before running out of the stall, not even daring to look back.

You ran and ran and ran. Pushing away from the heavy bodies littering your way. Sobs of pain left you, but no one even cared to look. This wasn’t what you wanted from tonight – you wanted to forget Jimin, not become him. Yet you can never forget how you reacted to that stranger, how sensitive your body was to someone who wasn’t your husband. Tremendous shame and guilt travel up your neck like parasites. Your eyesight had become blurry, all the overwhelming lights meshed together, and you couldn’t even see anymore. All that was guiding you was the reminder to get out of this loud place.

And it was then that you bumped into someone.

“___? Hey, are you alright? ___?”

A frantic voice, and grip on your arms pulls you back to reality. For a moment you just heave as he shakes you softly, grip firm and protective. Slowly, your eyes begin to clear and breathing slows. There you see Yoongi and you, standing near the entrance hall of Cypher Road.

“Y-Yoon…gi?” You mutter, out of air

“Fuck, ___, what happened to you?” Yoongi shouts, his eyes widened in concern  

“You lied to me Yoongi…” You mutter

“…What?”

“You lied to me!” You cry, pulling him off of you, “You t-told me…” Your voice breaks, tears filling your eyes, “You said he did nothing but fool around with his friends…YOU LIED!!!”

The anger in your voice has him putting up his hands in concern. “W-what do you mean-”

“In there!” You scream, pointing at the dance floor, “In your precious club – is a girl with a necklace!”

“A…necklace?” Yoongi squints in confusion, his head turning back and forth between you and the dance floor.

“A fucking necklace!” You roar as he winces, “A necklace…similar to the one Jimin wore some time ago…”

“___, there are plenty of ways she could’ve gotten that necklace, maybe she-“

“No!” You interrupt him, shaking your head vigorously, “That’s what I say! Those are the excuses I make! ...But not this time. Not when I recognize that special custom-made J pendant on her neck…”

You began to cry, hot fat tears rolling down your cheeks as your throat starts to close in.

“I-I could…couldn’t even see her face…I don’t even know what s-she looks like…” Taking a deep breath, you bring your hand to your mouth in embarrassment, “Yet I know her…because she wore my husband’s necklace so proudly. Like she owned it…owned him.”

Yoongi stares at you, at loss at what to say. The people around you gave glances and strange looks time to time. But still…no one cares long enough to stay.

“___...just calm d-”

“NO!” You scream again, cringing at the strain in your voice. “I won’t! I won’t calm down! I have every right to be angry!”

“I know that!” Yoongi yells cautiously, “I understand that-”

“No you don’t– No one does! No one knows how it feels to be in my position, no one- Or else you wouldn’t have lied to me!”

“You think I had a choice? You think I wanted to purposely lie to the woman who was staring at the ground a thousand feet below her like her only way out?”

“Just-” You bring your hands up, a sudden wave of exhaustion pouring over you, “I’m so, so tired…I’m so tired of being lied to, Yoongi. Please…please leave me alone.”

“__-” Before he could say another word you were rushing down the hall, out of the building. He stared at the exit you left from a bit too long, the bright neon of the sign hurting his eyes. Everyone else danced on, carefree, around him. His husband always told him this job would be his wolfsbane.

And he was right as usual.

As he’s debating whether to chase after you, a call of his name interrupts his concentration.  

“Hy- fuck, Yoongi hyung!” The pale faced man turns around to see the youngest of his pack shoving through multiple bodies in disdain. The taller man rushes up to him, breathing heavily, with a worried gaze.

“Taehyung?” The older asks with concern laced in his tone. What the fuck was happening? “What’s the matter?”

“S-she was…do you know where the girl who was just with you went? She was right here! The one with the red dress…soft demeanor…?”

Yoongi straightened up as Taehyung described you,  

“How do you know ___?”  

You sat at the edge of your world in silence. The winds of tomorrow’s past blew past you, your hair in rhythm with the fast-paced clouds above. For the moment, you would have preferred silence, but that was not a sentiment the city shared with you. Cars, honking, muttered chatter, you could hear it all. Passing through your ears like an afterthought. Your feet dangled as you held your heels in your hand. What were you thinking of showing up to that anniversary dinner?

What ever made you think Jimin would stop disappointing you?

As you stared at the glass structures you sighed, you always ended up back at the same place. The same kind of city, the same rain, the same broken heart. Perhaps the universe really was trying to tell you something.

A quiet hum stained your body, Keeping you sane from your sadness. It was crazy really, how many questioned can be answered in a day. With a deep breath, you reach out to into the night, stretching your arm. Hand laid flat against the air for a few seconds before you clasped it shut – as if grabbing something. What were you desperately searching for in the night?  

Your husband? Your life? Your childhood?  

Your happiness.

“Thought I might find you here…”  

It was routine then, the sudden loud beating of your heart. Your widened eyes, your frozen physique. The shaky exhale.

…

“I…tried to find you downstairs…in the apartment…but you weren’t there…”

Jimin.

You can hear him walk towards you. And you could imagine it, hands in pocket, the wind blowing through his hair, his relaxed stance and clear eyes. It had been too long…so long, just a couple days felt like years. It felt like something grabbed onto your heart, so tight you couldn’t breathe. You were too scared to turn. To look him in the eye.  

But you did anyway.  

And you just knew the universe hated you. It was him. It was him. It was him. His ethereal face filled with a halo no one could replicate. He was God’s most beautiful creature. How spiteful your creator must have been.

It was him. You wanted to reach out to him.

He stared at you, reading your eyes as you read his. But you both had stopped understanding each other’s language a long time ago.  

You both waited for the other to speak. Yet for some reason, you wanted this silence to last forever.

“…How have yo-”

“Did you fuck her?” You ask, your voice immediately breaking. His face turned pale. “When I trusted you…and waited for you…”

He looked away, mouth shutting and eyes squinting.

You had dreamt of this scenario a thousand times, and in each one you never came off this strongly. So, what were you doing right now? Why did you feel so guilty?

“You fucked her…did it feel good? Are you happy now that you’ve emptied your dick?” There was so much fury in each of your words, but you enjoyed watching him squirm. You didn’t even know half these words were in your vocabulary. “How has she been for the past week? Why did you even come, JIMIN? I waited, and waited, and waited in the pain of the unknown. All while you got your dick wet…And I always do that Jimin…I’m so stupid, aren’t I?

He says nothing.

“Tell me I’m stupid!” You slam a palm on the ledge, “Because you really make me feel that way! And for what?”

The tears you hold back wrapped themselves around your neck, making you struggle to get your words out. You wanted him to feel as hurt as you did.

“What have I done Jimin? What did…I do to you?” Breathing was becoming hard, your lips quivering as you stared at the beautiful somber devil. “All I did was love you, so why? Why do you t-treat me like this?”

It must have been an illusion of either your river-filled eyes or the bleak night because for a second you thought you saw despair and guilt inside him.

“I broke myself apart to try and fit into your world. Became happy for you, always did what you wanted, never questioned you-fuck I would’ve even had children if it meant you would stay with me…”

“God, I’m so stupid!” You roar, grasping fistfuls of your hair and pulling at it, “Here I was trying to be better, here I was thinking that those three girls had something I didn’t but that wasn’t it at all! M-Mina didn’t have lipstick on that night. She couldn’t have marked your shirt…but someone else did! Isn’t that right Jimin?”

You turn back to him, eyes wide and head pounding. “I thought there were only three girls…but there are many, many more aren’t there? I thought Jessica was the first time, but it wasn’t was it?”

Jimin finally looks up at you, and you realize you never said anything about Jessica. He didn’t know you knew.

“You’d been cheating on me…since the beginning…haven’t you? Here I thought I must have done something wrong after marriage…but I’ve been your plaything throughout this whole affair, haven’t I?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You slowly lower your arms, face and body still in shock.

“I’m so stupid Jimin…I felt special for a while…I’m so stupid…aren’t I?”

His face twitches, but his thoughts remain a mystery. You watch quietly as he closes his eyes, a soft exhale leaving his lips. It was too painful to keep staring at him, at the man you once loved more than anything. So you looked back at the sky, pleading for a chance to redo every single event since before you met.

“Jimin…” You whisper, voice pleading. Your sanity was on the brink and you wanted to be pulled in before you fell over. “Tell me I’m not stupid.”  

“I’m letting you go, ___.”

You really hated yourself in that moment. Your name coming out of his mouth felt so good, you almost didn’t hear the first part.

Almost.

“I have to let you go.”

And the first tear falls. Sliding down your cheek easily before the next one leaks. You close your eyes, letting the pain wash away at you for the first time in a while. The fall was long, you could feel the emptiness surround you. For a second it felt like flying, unobstructed and liberated.

“…”

“This has gone…beyond my control…___. I didn’t know what I was thinking, I just...” He looks at you, but you kept yourself inside your head. Arms numb and brain empty. “…I acted on impulse…I thought I knew what I wanted…I thought it was…”

You

“You are right…I have been cheating on you for a long time now…I never loved you…I just kept this charade on for as long as I could. And I don’t know why because I don’t love you…I d..d-don’t.”

That’s what you needed to hear, right? Just like that? Everyone’s been telling you this is better for you, haven’t they? So why are all your words stuck in your throat.

“I’ll go back to T…my friend for now…I’ll be back to pack up my stuff in the next few weeks.”

And with that he gives you one last glance before he turns. That was it, that was his whole explanation. What exactly had you expected? Why the FUCK did you keep expecting? You wanted to call out to him, your heart jumping out of your chest and latching onto his turned back. But instead of uttering a single peep, you listen to his footsteps all the way back to the door.

You listen as he touches the door knob. You listen as he twists it and pulls the door open slightly. All you do is listen when you can feel him hesitate, turning around to look at you.

For the strangest reason you remember the day you met him. That bright day, the soft wind and cherry blossoms. His bright smile and angel eyes, your innocent mind and open heart. It replays in your memory like your life flashing before your eyes. The wind picks at your toes and your body itches, yearning for something you couldn’t comprehend.

So much has changed since. This isn’t the same day, the same wind. There are no cherry blossoms, or smiles or innocence. You both are different now.

This was your chance to call out to him. To jump off this ledge and into his arms. But you just sat there. Listened as he turned back and left. And it was just you and the wind once more. The door closing felt like the cover of a book closing, that this was the end.

And against the fast-paced wind that night, you accepted your defeated.

There were no books out today…

That much you could tell as you stared at the small desk between the couches, dozing off as the sunlight from the large window behind hit your face.

Much like you, she also stared. At the distance in your eyes, the iris dim and face unreadable. There were many things she wanted to ask, many holes she wanted to poke. But she remained as restrained as her profession taught. For she knew the signs of unapproachable person at first glance, having read them countless of times over.  

Yet she couldn’t have you stay quiet the whole time.

“Is everything alright?” Lin spoke meticulously  

You didn’t answer.

She sighed, studying you as she shifted. What could she do right now to make you talk? You’ve been so quiet these past 3 weeks, almost like you didn’t exist. Last week you never showed up, Lin couldn’t help overthinking and dial your emergency contact – Irene, who dragged you over here in frustration.  

You had told her about Jimin, lifelessly stating everything that happened as if facts about your life that hold no meaning to you. She knew how much pain you were in, but your reaction to despair was abnormal since crying was the body’s healing method. It’s a healthy way to process emotion. Then the next week you became silent, were a no-show last week and didn’t speak a word today either. Lin had consulted Irene, who said Jimin had been coming over, taking more and more of his stuff which helped the therapist understand a bit more.

You were mirroring your safe space, becoming as hollow as your apartment was.

“___, please you have to talk to me. Just for a bit, alright? I can help you.”

“Do you ever…” Her thoughts were interjected as you spoke up quietly. She was instantly all ears. “Do you ever…want to redo life? If you could start all over again, without any of your mistakes…would you?”

Lin stared at you for a while. Your expression did not change, you continued to glare a hole through her desk.

“Well…that’s a difficult question ___. Even though a part of me wants to erase the mistakes I might have made… I think it’s important to have the knowledge of those mistakes…why I made them…what I can learn from them…etcetera…”

“Well what mistakes did I make?” You say softly, looking at Lin in her pretty brown eyes. “What kind of mistakes have I made…that I still – to this day – have learned nothing from?”

You were trying to hide it, but she could see it as clear as day. The barrage of emotions you tried to conceal in your pupils. “Why am I getting constantly punished and learning nothing?”

“Why?” You plead, throwing a palm over your head and slouching down in your hair, “Why should I always be the person in pain? I’m so, so, so sad and I can’t change that even though I want to!”

“Trust me L-Lin, I want to change so desperately, I want to! I want to crawl out of my skin and find a new body because everything hurts but I can’t leave me…I can’t leave me, I c-can’t leave even though he can…I can’t leave even though she can… but I can’t, I CAN’T!

“..and you know what hurts the most?” You ask her, to which she does not respond. “What hurts is that he left me…like I was the one who did something wrong.”

“…He left me.”

It falls dead silent after your outburst. The only sound echoing the room was of your steady breathing.

“W…why do they get to walk away whenever they want after everything they’ve done?”

Lin breathes out tenderly, her eyes on the glass table and the reflection of the sun behind. In moments like this, she wishes she really had all the answers for her patients. She really does.

“By she…do you possibly mean-”

“My mother.” You mumble. “The one person in the world that was supposed to love me unconditionally…the one who threw me away like a discarded doll…”

Lin blinks slowly. “It can be very difficult to deal with the trauma and pain from a parent who abandons you…” After deliberating for a bit, she speaks up, “Tell me ___, why do you think you’ve given your all to every authority figure in your life?

You sit back up after a shaky exhale. Nothing comes to mind, except Jimin’s smile. Life was exhausting.

“Be…because…”

Lin nods, encouraging you to go on.

“I wanted them to love me.”

“And why did you think being perfect at everything, work, household chores, unconditional love, would get you their love.”

“B…because…I don’t know…”

“Hmm, can you tell me the first time you noticed someone’s reaction to you being ‘perfect.’ A child hood memory perhaps?”

After thinking about it for a while, you nod.

“...When I was…in the first grade…I got an A on my math exam. I was the only kid and…and the teacher called my mom to tell her I got an A. I didn’t want to bother her so I didn’t do it. And…my mother…she smiled at me for the first time that day.”

You could sense Lin’s soft smile.

“So I tried to get more As but I guess she got used to it. When Jimin…when I would blush or be openly smitten with him…there was a twinkle in his eye. One I could never get out of my head. And I tried…so hard.” You close your eyes, “So hard to keep that twinkle alive even when I was dying inside…but I guess…even he got used to it.”

Opening your eyes, you look at your therapist. “That’s why I did it. So they could love me.”

You become quiet, playing with your fingers as Lin stare at you. Her mind was in deep thought.  

“___,” Lin sighs after a while, “You know that I can’t tell you to not be upset… you have every right to feel whatever you feel because what they did to you caused you great pain…but I think it’s time you learned how to love yourself. And for that we need to address the root cause of your issues.”

“My mother?”

“Your mother.”

You nod, contemplating what she said. Learning to love yourself? That was a concept so foreign to you. Could it really help you understand yourself? What could you possibly gain from it, what was there to love about you? Right now, you just wanted to sleep forever. Forget you exist at all.

Existence is a pain itself.

Maybe you should confront the cause of your existence then.

“Trust me ___.” Lin speaks, catching your gaze, “You deserve better. You deserve to love yourself.”

Oh, you just cracked the puzzle.

She had aged.

Your mom, who was always so tall. To you, she stood over all the towering counters and tables and light switches. Compared to her, you were tiny. Someone who always had to look up at her, stretching your neck and straining your eyes. At her, who easily touched things you could only wish to reach.  

She looks so small now. Wrinkles skin deep, frown lines too permanent. She, who was once the tallest person in your naïve, 5-year-old eyes. Someone you thought would always look as young, as beautiful.  

As cold.

You watch her, face trained to be still. Her posture was demure, lips sat motionless and eyes downcast. She wore a light earthy dress, full sleeves and prim collar…which was so very her. It was strange to you, how at one moment you wanted her to look at you more than anything. To acknowledge you.

But today you were content in studying her with a passive gaze.

“How have you been?” She begins quietly. You stare at her, then glance at her fidgeting hands in her lap.

The atmosphere was dim, a bit too lull for a restaurant during lunch time. Maybe you were suppressing the chatter and clatter, to focus on her. Again, how fitting.

“…I’ve been well.” I have not. “How about you?”

“Good.” She replies softly, staring at her steaming tea in interest.

You sigh, your shoulders moving up and down along with your breath. What were you expecting? This is a person you hadn’t seen in 3 years. Why would she suddenly be interested in you? Why should you be in her?

At that moment, you hear small laughter reach your ear. You turn toward the appealing sound, not sure why you wanted to find its source. Yet once you took it in, you understood. It was a child. A mother, and her small child. The lady was not much older than you, wearing a blue-green dress as she fed her daughter dress in pink a small piece of the steak she ordered. They seemed happy, content in the small moment they shared, and you couldn’t help but smile at them.

What a fantasy they were living, you hope they knew how lucky they were. Everyone seems to be luckier than you. For a while you felt like a kid staring through the window of a candy shop. Tsk, how ridiculous.

“I…I’m glad you are well…”

You turn back to the fragile sound of that voice. “It…I was happy to get your call…and you suddenly asking to meet me. I felt nervous…I don’t know why.”

Surprise was well written on your face at her words. This was not what you were expecting.

“And I…” She coughs as if her voice was raspy. “How have you been? H-how’s Jimin? I hope he’s taking care of you.”

She smiles then. A slight, delicate smile as she looks you in the eyes. This is not what you were expecting. Not from the woman who’s only given you cold shoulders when you’ve asked for warm arms.  

All you could think about was how she was never home for your birthday and the one time she was, you overheard her call it just another rest day on the phone with her coworker. All you could remember was asking her if she would come to your recital and she never showed, so you just sat there after the choir concert watching all the other kid take pictures and receive flowers from their family. All you could call upon was the time she forgot to feed you for almost a week, which was what made you begin cooking.

And for some reason, unbeknownst to you, you utter the thorn pressing against your brain.

“Jimin left.”

Her smile takes a second to drop. The color of her face wearing off as her eyes widen. Jaw parting as she looks at you, like a worried, petrified mother. It almost made you laugh.

“W…What?”

Concern laced her tongue and you felt anger as a natural reaction. This wasn’t it – it wasn’t how you were expecting this to go. The person you remember, the person instilled into your core would have sighed in disappointment. Gave you a cold look and a wintery frown. Told you she warned you. Why was she suddenly acting this way?

“_-”

“H-he left mom.” You say, your voice choking up, “You were right, once again. He left me, just like you said. Aren’t you happy?”

You spit the question with venom, your eyes welling up.

“___.” She repeats in that same pitiful tone. It sparked more fury inside of you.

“Aren’t you happy?!” You ask a little louder, the neighboring tables giving you a glance. “I’ll be signing divorce papers soon. You were right all along!”

“N-no, no.” She shakes her head, seeming as distraught as you. Who was this person in your mother body? Wearing your mother’s face.

“What, why?” You sneer, “Have I done something to upset you again, like I don’t know ask for some fucking food?”

“___, no. Oh my God, no.” She was crying.  

It was getting hard to see as you shook in your seat. The weight of the world felt like it was on your shoulder. And as you stared at the weeping lady in front of you, you felt like a child again. A child who hid under the bed, crying because of the thunder. Desperately wanting her mother to come home. But she never came.

“I hate you.” Your tough voice broke, “I hated you so much…I never knew how much I hated you until I found Jimin…even if his love was fake at least he acted like he cared. Why couldn’t you just fucking act?”

She begins to tremble. Fuck.

“I know…how much dad hurt you, but why did you have to hurt me? I needed you. I needed you, mom. I spent every single day trying to live up to what I thought were your expectations, I thought I had to earn your love. I thought-” You take a moment, shutting your eyes and feeling the aching beat of your heart. “I thought if I was the perfect child- if I didn’t cause you trouble, if I was quiet and stayed out of trouble y-you would at least smile my way. And still you didn’t…all of my accomplishments, all of the things I so hard worked for vanished just like that…”

“Tell me…why did you…abandon me?” You look at her and for the first time something feels different, although your heart continues to constrict. She looks so small in her light earthy dress, straining her shoulders and shaking her head.

“I am so sorry ___. I am so, so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you like that, ___. I am so sorry.”

“But more than you I hate myself.” You continue, ignoring the sear of pain on her face with every word. “I hate that I can never be perfect for anyone, I hate that I can’t have a normal conversation without second guessing everything. I can’t even ask someone for help without having a mild panic attack! Did you know that? I hate how I am so sad and weak all the fucking time. I hate me, I hate me.”

“___, please, please don’t say that. Please.”

“Why, huh? So you can pretend to have a normal daughter, if you want to pretend I even exist today-”

“NO!” She screams making you silent. You could hear the whispering of the tables around you, but you pay it no mind. They were the lucky ones, they wouldn’t understand. “So you don’t turn out like me.”

“…What?”

She exhales deeply, her face morphed into anguish, “I never wanted you to be like me, ___. Never. Y-your father made so many promises to me, told me he loved me so much. I was a shy, quiet conservative woman who fell into his trap. Then one day he just got up and left. A-and I was so stuck I didn’t know what to do! No one taught me how to raise a child, I had no guidance, no family and barely any money.”

You listen to her silently. The air was thick and her breathing rapid. For some reason you really wanted to dry her tears.

“A-And then you w-were born. B-but every time I looked at you…I remembered what your father did. I remembered that I never wanted a child. I remembered that because of you…I couldn’t go anywhere and do anything, and I was trapped in the same damned town for the rest of my miserable days. I was so lonely and ashamed…I couldn’t hate you though…I tried but you were so small and fragile I just couldn’t. Yet it was easy to pretend you didn’t exist. So, I did just that…to help me cope, I pretended you weren’t there. That I never met a man like your father and he never betrayed me…”

She looks at her hands, “But I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have have…but I realized it too late…when you already met Jimin…”  

You tense.

“Since the start…he reminded me of your father, and it terrified me. I was so scared for you, and I tried to get you not to marry him. But you hated me, and it was all my fault. You sought for the love I couldn’t give you so desperately, that it was easy for you to fall victim to someone who wanted to take advantage of you. I prayed for you…for your relationship every day, I wanted to be wrong so bad…I did ___.” She looks up at you with a frantic gaze. “I never wanted you to be like me, never ever. I did so many horrible things to you. I’m so sorry ___. I’m so sorry. I know you can never forgive me, and that will live with me for the rest of my days.”

Your mom looks back down. Her expression empty and tears still. It seems like she let out all she wanted to say and now she was a ghost. There was nothing in her…nothing. She reminded you of herself, which is why you said the next words.

“I can’t forgive you…” You speak softly and she winces. “The young me…can’t forgive you. The one who was subjected to your neglect. The innocent child striving for a mere ounce of love and affection. The part of me that you disregarded every day until even I questioned if I existed. I can’t.”

She physically deflated, as if agreeing with your sentiments.

“But-” You interrupt her acceptance, “The me now…the me growing and changing and evolving every single day. The me who’s learned to be happier…who’s learning how to find herself and converse with others…the me who has learned to heal…that me. I…can forgive you.”

And you watch her as she takes a moment. Looking up at you like a star just exploded.  

“I can forgive you, mom.”

The next moments were a blur. She seemed extremely please, beyond ecstatic and you felt for her. Especially when she cried like a baby, and you think she was the child now. You mother was the small one now, the one who needed your love. And you weren’t going to be someone who repeats her mistakes. Everything you said to her was true. You could forgive her now. It would take some time, but strangely you understood her.

If Jimin left you with a child, you would have the hardest time acknowledging it. All the pain you would feel could be unintentionally directed at it. You were so glad you weren’t in her shoes. They were bigger than you could imagine. As you breathe out, you feel it all leave you. The resentment you’ve held onto for years. The resentment that grew too heavy for you to carry.

It was lifted off your back and you could breathe again. There were traces of bitterness left, staining the deepest corners, but you will work on washing them out.

“I…know it’s too late…but I will try to be better ___.” She looks at you with her swollen eyes. It was as of you were staring at your reflection.  

“I think you already are.” You say with a smile, directed more to yourself.

You really were your mother’s daughter.

_

It was silence once again.

A screaming silence, that woke your inner most core as you step into the vacant apartment. You were so tired. The meeting with your mom ran longer than you thought and now you just wanted to drown into your bed. Taking off your coat, you hang it by the rack before changing into your slippers. Without a second thought, you bee line for your bed room ready to sleep today off.  

But you halt in your tracks as you notice something on the dining table a few feet from you. A stack of white papers. You look around you, as if searching for someone before you look back at the table once again. It had been a few weeks since that night. Jimin would come by when you weren’t around, take more of his stuff and leave. Half of you was wondering why he was taking his sweet time and torturing you…the other half was yearning for as much time with him as possible.

With a defeated sigh, you slowly make your way to the dining table. Every single inch of this space had so many memories attached to it. Each step felt like reliving it all again. Once you bump into a dining chair, you can read the letters as bold as day.  

Divorce papers.

Oh.

Jimin was working quicker than you thought. You expected his, but not this soon. It hit you then. That you didn’t realize how real of this was until this very moment, as you reread those big black letters in the stiffest font. This was real, it was happening.

Jimin was finally going to leave you.

That’s right, he gets to leave. While you were stuck washing out the resentment.

So, you let out a breathless laugh. One after the other until you were full on laughing at the situation. Oh my God, you tried so hard and for what? You tore yourself up and for who? There was nothing left of you, you gave it all away and what did that get you in return.

You were so crazy stupid, it was insane. You actually apologized when Jimin cheated on you. You forgave him multiple times. You starved yourself, you loathed yourself, you killed the young girl just wanting honest love and respect inside of you. And you cried until your eyes broke and you’re crying now.

You’re crying for the girl who once stood in that mirror, pinching every ounce of her skin till it bruised. Scourging herself for never being good enough. You’re crying for your lost dignity, handing it to someone with clumsy hands you thought were loyal. You’re crying at how you lost who you were, not only in the longest seven years of your life, but ever since you were born. You’re crying because that’s all you ever did for you.

How different life would have been if your mother had taught you how to love yourself? If her mother had taught her how to love herself? If the men in your lives didn’t continue to ravage you of all you could offer. It felt like some sort of curse.

Which is why you fell to the floor to let it all out. The tremendous pain and grief that built over the years, the horrible conditions of your body and mind. Every single pore had to leak, only then you would truly be free.

You’re crying because you wasted your life away. You’re crying because you treated yourself this way, when you didn’t deserve anything but love, trust, and honesty.

You’re crying because you learned too late of what – who you should have loved.

You were crying because your book wasn't written by you, but by somehow who couldn’t care less about you.

You are crying because of what is and what isn’t.

And trust me when I say, you’re crying for the last time.  

_

You woke up today and the ache was still there, that mind numbing helpless feeling of isolation.  

But instead of that horrible drilling pain to the brain, it was a small tremor in the back of your head. And for the most part, you could ignore it. Sauntering down the hall with your many files, you stop in front of the large wooden door and stare at the name plaque. The morning air felt fresh. Maybe that was why you took so many deep breaths. And another one, before knocking on the door.

“Come in.” You hear an easy-going voice and you open the heavy door carefully.

“Ah! ___, I was just about to call you! Great job at that meeting by the way, you really wowed the investors.”

Your boss sat relaxed at the front of the vast room, in the middle of her bulky brown desk like some sort of royal.

“Thank you.” You smile, stepping into her large office. The air was cooler in here and a shiver ran down your spine at the sudden chill that intruded your light purple blouse. Your skin erupted in small goosebumps, both from the temperature and the sights of your grinning boss.

Not that you didn’t want to see it, you were just so unsure of what to do when it would inevitably fade at the news you were about to share. It’s what you’ve been scarred of from your whole life, the thought of disappointing an authority figure. But seeing as how two-thirds of them disappointed you instead, you really could not care anymore at this point.

She watches you pace your way up to her desk, small inquisitiveness in her wide set eyes.

“Did you have something for me?” She asks, pointing to the files in your hand with her gaze.

“Oh, these-” You put down the big stack of gray folders in front of her, “This is just something you have to look over.”

“I see. And what about that?”

Your grip tightens around the envelope in your now empty hands. “T…This is…my resignation letter.”

Her stare shifts from the envelope to you, mouth parting to display her surprise.

“Resignation?”

Throughout your life you always thought your body was a strange one. The length of the reactions you felt had to be abnormal, you continuously believed it. Do others feel this cold when they are alone? Do others feel this upset at the sun for rising? Do they feel the deep ache of the tragic finale that was the last 7 years? You sure did. But you still got up, you still made it out of that wretched house that was too bare to bear, and you kept it moving. And to you, that’s what matters.

There was so much thinking you did last night, so many thoughts flew in and around your head. You wonder how others reflect back on their life. What regrets do they swallow, what makes them laugh the loudest? What parts do they cry the hardest and who do they miss?

You couldn’t tell, you’d only been you the past 7 years. It was useless to sonder. So you didn’t, instead you thought about who you were. On that cold floor of the house you cemented with your naïve heart, tears dried by the very air you hated, you thought about the past seven years.

And the past 4 months.

The rooftop, the club, the people in your life, the people not, the heart break, the longing. You had always been analytical, and it was safe to say you had found the answer you sought.

It was funny how the answer became so clear once you only thought about yourself, obscuring yourself from other’s needs for the very first time.  

“Yes.” You state undoubtedly, cold long forgotten. “I’m resigning.”

Another sigh as you leave the room. But this one was of relief. Although a bit upset at losing her best employee, she had taken the news surprisingly well. She even encouraged you when you told her what you were planning to do after this. Irene would be glad to hear that.

Although the pain was there, it didn’t have a hold on you anymore. You wouldn’t allow it to.

“There you are!” You hear, jumping in your spot as your palm was still on your boss’ door handle.

As you look up, a handsome young man with bunny-esque features jogs up to you. His left arm was behind his back, concealing something from your vision. All you could focus on was the strain it caused his muscles.

“I was looking for you,” He comes up close and you could hear his rapid breathing. His lavender scent gentle invades your space. You look at him curiously, watching the way his face falls as he realizes where you stood, “Hey, were you meeting the CEO? You’re not in trouble, are you?”

The fact that he seemed genuinely concerned made you laugh. “I’m not.”

He exhales a sigh of relief. “Thank God, didn’t want you getting fired for being in love with me.”

For the longest time you had been avoiding him. Ever since thinking of him in that way, you ran away from wherever you spotted him. Yet you had forgotten how easy-going he was. How effortlessly he made you laugh.

“Pfft, please.” You scrunch your nose, “You’re a goofball.”

He just stares at you, a wide smile present on his face. Tilting your head to the side, you squint at him.

“What’s the matter?”

“N-nothing, you just…seem different today…from last time I mean.”

“In a bad way?”  

“No!” He shouts flustered, “I-in g- a good way! You seem relaxed.”

You break out into a laugh. He really was the brightest employee. It was a shame you didn’t get to spend more time with him.  

“Thank you.” You say, as you watch him blush fondly. “I feel different. Relaxed, I guess.”

I’m no longer cold.

His gaze travels down, as if he had something he wanted to say. Your eyebrow quirks at him when you remember he still had his arm behind his back.

“What are you hiding?” You ask with a sneaky smirk.

He grins back at you, displaying his large teeth. Biting his bottom lip, he swings his arm out,  

“Tah-dah!”

There were suddenly a bundle of white roses in front of you, a gentle scent of freshness blew past you. You subconsciously took a long whiff, the pure layered petals creating a picture-esque image. Once your surprise passed, you were left doubtful.

A part of you had forgotten the bet.

“Roses?”

“Yup.” The man holding the bundle up to your face beamed

Scoffing, you place your hands on your hips. “Are you kidding? You expect me to believe you found roses around the building?

“But I did.” He pouts, and for a second you were ready to blindly believe him. Until you caught ahold of yourself. This lying brat!

“Where exactly did you find these beautifully healthy flowers, hmm? The backwall where even weeds don’t grow?”

“Yes, actually.” He states just as proudly, “I planted them.”

Your eyes widen at his words. “You did what?!”

He moves closer to you, you could feel his breath hitting you as his face was adjacent with yours. “I. Planted. Them.”

“T-that’s…Y-y-you ca-”

“Why not?” He asks with a mischievous glint in his eye, “The bet was to find flowers on the property, it doesn’t matter where they came from. And like you said, there’s some gorgeous land on the backwall.”

Your jaw drops slightly at his reasonings. You wanted to continue arguing but instead you just stood there watching him giggle in the most adorable way.

“You wanted pretty flowers, I got you pretty flowers.” He winks, handing you the roses. “Think of it as a one-month anniversary gift.”

Oh, right. He still thought you were new here.

His naivety makes you burst into laughter, the first genuinely happy expression you’ve made in months. It was mystery at first, but now you knew now why you liked him so much. The youthful nature, the sincerity he displayed was alluring. You didn’t have to be any front you had put up in the past in front of him, instead you were just another person. Someone normal for once.

“Thank you Jungkook.” You laugh as he proudly holds up his nose. Just as your eyes twinkle upon him, you recall upon something suddenly. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a small piece of paper, your number scribbled on it long ago. Honestly, you couldn’t help but like him.

“Here. You earned it.”

He looks at your hand extending the paper, as your other holds the roses close to your heart. His heart beat quickens at the sight, you were so graceful and effortlessly beautiful, he wanted to know you more and more. Jungkook knew when he first saw you, the traces of a secret battle all across your face. Although he didn’t want to pry, he couldn’t help but let his heart be captured by the silent beauty that shone from you as natural as daylight.

“Thank you.” He mutters, his ears turning red.

While you look at him staring at your digits in awe, you found him to be an absolutely enchanting man. And you wanted him to know that, so you step up to him, softly connecting your lips with his cheek. You could feel him freeze under you, and it made you feel enthralled. It was nice, being in control for once.

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook.”

With that you sauntered down the hall, almost turning the corner before you hear his melodious tone stutter out to you. “T-this Saturday? It’s a date!”

Although surprised, you said nothing, just continuing to walk along the hallway. But you couldn’t help the grin that broke out on your face, thankfully obstructed from him, of course. You felt giddy all the way back to your office. Once you were there, you squealed in glee.

Through your small jumps and smiles, your phone rang, startling you. Already? You thought before checking the caller ID. In a flash your beam dropped, orbs beholding the name anxiously. How did he get your number? With a hasty sigh to calm you nerves, and an oddly guilty feeling, you decidedly answer the call.

“Hello…Yoongi?

Meanwhile, back at your boss’ hallway, a certain bunny boy hadn’t moved an inch. Argh, he felt so stupid. Why did he ask you out so fast? The plan was to first call you, maybe get to know you. But somehow, when you told him you’d see him around, it felt like a goodbye…the forever type. His gut told him he had to act quickly.

You didn’t even respond though…wow he felt dumb. Huffing, he rubs his face with his oversized hands. He didn’t blow it, did he? Should he call you tonight to make sure? Did you even want him to call? Well, obviously, you gave him your number!

As he was faced with a silent moral dilemma, he fails to register a young woman pacing up to him.

“Hello?”

He jumps with a small scream, which has the lady confused. She recognizes him though, he must’ve been one of the new recruits. Yes, the overly enthusiastic one.

“Umm, Mr. Jeon, right? You were just speaking to the supervisor, weren’t you? Can you give her this last gray file for me, please? I forgot to hand it to her.” With that the lady clacks away in a rush.

Jungkook stares at the file. She must have been talking about you. He smiles, thinking this gave him a valid reason to look for you again without seeming like a creep. This time, he’ll be more suave – more stress-free with his methods. This time, he’ll have his answer. The stretchy smile soon disappears, however, once the lady’s words fully register in his mind.

Did she just say supervisor?!

It was subtle really, blink once and you’d miss it.

Jimin softly shut the door behind him, looking into the dim living room he never quite got used to.

Did this place always feel so empty? He thought, staring at the walls with disinterest. He’s never had to be in here alone, he realizes. You were always here to warm the spaces between the loneliness.

But who was here to warm you?

It didn’t matter anymore – you didn’t matter anymore. You had changed, you weren’t the person Jimin agreed to marry. The you now weren’t someone he recognized. Time passes by too fast; he couldn’t keep up with it anymore. That’s why he wanted to end it with you as quickly as he could. Wasn’t it just yesterday he was confronted by you? Was it yesterday when he broke everything off?

He really couldn’t remember.

Oh, but his body sure did. His face grew thinner every day, arms losing the vitality his lithe limbs always presented. It was like his body realized you were leaving him and began a protest of its own. No one from college would recognize the Jimin he was now, the one who started to speak a little less. The one who stiffened his neck and sagged his shoulders. This wasn’t their Jimin.

As he stared off at the dining table, his mind recalls upon that rainy night. Where the distance between you started to grow like poisonous gas. It was the first time he felt the detachment from your side, since before you had always made yourself emotionally and physically available to him. Needless to say, he abhorred it, he hated what you had become. All without understanding the irony.

Jimin was someone who never understood his faults, too busy picking out the mistakes of others. Another thing he slighted in was confrontation, because he’s never been called out. Only when he looked in the mirror recently did he have the worst of days, lashing out at himself, at Tina at his friends and coworkers. Yes, he kept himself quite busy. Everyone was beginning to leave him, and he was getting desperate. Running his hands through his hair, he starts to trudge towards the bedroom. He was exhausted, shifting between work, leaving you and consoling Tina. His scandalous lover wanted to make a life with him, he just wanted to rest, maybe for a month or two. It’s alright though, he could just keep himself in her safety for a while before running off to whatever new toy he found next.  

Once he’s inside the bedroom, he freezes involuntarily. The sight of the familiar place had his heart yearning. It made him angry, that feeling of attachment he could possibly have connected to you. You were nothing to him and these days you were a headache to deal with. He gave seven years to you, you should’ve been grateful. Now he just missed the old you, the you who would follow him blindly. Jimin wasn’t made to be questioned.

So why did he feel like puking his guts out onto the floor? Why did it wound him to blink? Face it, the voice inside sneers at him. You love. Someone like her. You’re pathetic.

No, he doesn’t.

Yet he recalls upon another buried memoir. When he first started dating you, he slept with another girl in the same week. That’s what he did to all the girls he ‘dated,’ it turned him on to know people desired even if he was ‘taken.’ It was then as he held the other woman asleep in his arms, you texted him ‘goodnight’ and a bizarre feeling came over him. Guilt. He became so afraid, he ignored you for a week. Until he yearned to see you again. And why exactly should Jimin deny himself of anything he seeks? The same situation occurred a few more times, till it became a habit like alcohol. Although it may burn the next day, in that moment you enjoy the carnal pleasure for what it was. Pleasure.

He would never admit that other women never gave him the same sensation anymore, that you and the vanilla and wholesome sex meant everything to him at some point. Never, ever. Because he didn’t love you. The beating in his head couldn’t convince him otherwise.

In all honesty, he didn’t have an answer himself. Why did Jimin marry you? He didn’t love you…you just asked him about it once. Subtly hinting to marriage when asking him about what his thoughts on it were. Of course, you’d want commitment, every damn bitch wants commitment. And in that moment, he should have shut you down. Should have used his charms to make your place clear to you. Yet he didn’t have it in him to hurt you. Instead he proposed to you the next week, thinking that you’d vanish like the other girls when he made his intentions clear. But why? Why were you the only one different? It wasn’t like he loved you.

He didn’t.

Which is why it was easy for him break it off with you, wasn’t it? So easy, that he hadn’t slept or eaten in days.  

He was on the brink, his conscious just needed a little more push to take over.

Jimin wasn’t here for anything big today. Just searching for a custom J pendant he seemed to have lost a while back. Sadly, he didn’t know if it was you or not – he didn’t know where it was at all actually. Maybe he left it here, maybe he left it with another faceless girl he fucked senseless. As soon as he forces himself back to reality, he begins to look around. He was already late today, and you would be home soon…he didn’t want to run into you again.

Cluttering about, a bit staggered from his lack of forte, he steps up to the bedside drawer in one swift motion. He pulls open the drawer, running his fingers through all the items present inside. It was then that he stumbled upon a letter.

Marked with his name.

He couldn’t help but feel curious, drawn to your timid handwriting on the otherwise blank paper. Picking it up, he opens it to find hundreds of words scribbled together. Although the words were slightly messy, there were no mistakes he spotted, leading him to think you must have rewritten the letter a thousand times.

His breath was in his lungs, his feet glued to the floor. Something inside him wanted to put it back – leave it alone, his nauseous gut giving him another warning. But he began to read it anyway. Because why should Jimin be denied from anything he seeks?

Dear Jimin, the letter began and Jimin’s eyebrow twitched.

I’m not sure how to write this. I’ve rewrote it so many times already my wrist hurts. But I do want to tell you all of this, and as I am not the best at conversing my thoughts across, I would rather jot them all down. In hopes that my heart could reach you through them.

I’ve recently done a lot of stuff I never thought were possible for me. I made a friend, I learned a new interest, I took up therapy. There’s so much I want to talk about! But I’ll keep it short. Even through everything I did, I thought of you. Every corner I turned; ever route I took. Somehow, I felt you were on the other side, waiting for me.

No matter what anyone said, it didn’t mean anything to me. Just you, Jimin. And I realized, how much I need you. How I can’t lose you. I lost my mother Jimin, I lost her because I wasn’t perfect, and I know, to you I am not perfect.

But to me, you’re perfect Jimin. Which is why I don’t care what anyone says. I’m scared of coming home lost and cold, I’m scared of losing my home, which is you. I know I haven’t been great to you these past few days and the truth is I was hurt. I was alone and scared, but I should have known...I should have remembered who you are to me.

These past few years I am beyond grateful for. Thank you for spending your days growing old with me. I remember all the little stuff. Like that time, we went to the theater and you ordered too much popcorn and the aftertaste of the butter lasted in your mouth for a week. You always said me kissing you made the taste a bit more bearable. Or what about that time I got malaria and you stayed up for three days with me in the hospital? I have never seen you so scared.

That’s our love, Jimin. Those days mean so much to me, I wish you would remember them.

No person can get between us, Jimin. I won’t allow them. I want to apologize to you; I want to take everything I said back. I’ll be better, Jimin. I’ll remind you why you wanted to marry me.  

I’ll be perfect, Jimin.

So, please. Come home to me...darling.

Sincerely, your loving wife.

The door slammed open and shut, breaking him out of his concentration. Jimin was too immersed, he didn’t even notice how much time had passed. All he did know were of the tears that lingered his sockets. With an aching inhale, he practically ran out of the living room to catch you by the entrance. It was like magic then, you were a sight to behold. A most beautiful fairy.

You were in the middle of removing your heels before you noticed Jimin’s presence. It made you halt in your tracks, your hand still carrying your small pumps. He holds you inside his gaze with such intensity, it makes you gulp. What was he doing here? Had he always looked this sick?

…Was he crying?  

In moments he was upon you, his strong arms molding around your limbs as he exhales into your neck. You were as stiff as a board, confusion and angst swirling your mind.  

“J…Jimin, wha-”

“I love you, ___.”

…

What?

“I love you, I love you ___.” He repeats, moving off you to stare into your eyes. His orbs were bright, glazed but sparkly. All you could do was gape at him.

And in the midst of your shook state, you peak at the letter clasped in his hand.

He follows your gaze, holding up the paper to you.  

“Let me explain.” Jimin pleads, seeming sincere for the first time in…forever. “T-that night, our anniversary night, I wanted to come home to you. I really did. But Tina got into my head with and she...she manipulated me. Into thinking I don’t love my own wife! I was so confused, so instead I decided to listen to my carnal desires once again, push you out of my mind the only way I knew how.”

You were still trying to process everything. Why was he here again? “Wha...what?”

He looks sad just then, beyond exhausted like he was on the brink.

“I love you…___. Everyone’s leaving me these days, but you. You were always there for me.”

“…Jimin…”

“___, I…I have been in a lot of pain since I left. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat. I missed you so much. I never wanted to admit it, I always ran from it. And you were just…always so understanding…that I never looked back at my actions. Never thought what I was doing might hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

It hit you like a truck. Jimin apologized. This was the Jimin you saw that day after Mina. The vulnerable, broken boy.

“You’ve been coming on so strong…I couldn’t handle it. I thought I finally got the chance to break it off with you and be free…but I was wrong. I was wrong. I love you, ___. I don’t know since when but maybe I always had. And being away from you helped me understand that, the agony I felt. The yearning…I never want to leave home again. Your letter helped me understand! You make me a better person, ___.”

Jimin smiles, “So I’ll stay. I’m home ___. Thank you for bringing me home.”

Once again, he wraps you in his hug, ready to end the night with you in his arms. He finally feels free after so long, the spikes slowly removing themselves off his body. You were his energy, he realizes, you would help him get back on his feet. Finally, everything will be okay again, finally he can have you within his pincers once more. How he’s missed the delicious taste of eating you alive.

But as happy as he feels…he couldn’t help notice you weren’t responding.

Slowly, he unwinds from you, muddled. He takes a look at you, you who didn’t make any face. You who weren’t reacting to him the way he always knew you would.

Instead, you just glared.

It was his turn to be flustered, his turn to take a step back and process everything.

“___?”

“I…don’t love you, Jimin.”

Silence. As if you just dropped a bomb. His eyes widen, before squinting at you.

“W-what? Since when?” He almost sounds offended

“Since just now.”

“…What are you saying, ___.” He scoffs, taking your hand in his. You weren’t wearing your ring…again. “You love me.”

“I don’t.” You say more firmly, removing your hand from his. Jimin just stares at his now empty palm in surprise. “I don’t love you Jimin, and I’m not sorry about it.”

When he doesn’t retort, you sigh. “Jimin, did you know…a few days ago…I heard my secretary on the phone…she was talking to her boyfriend.” Looking down at how close your bodies were, you take a step away from him as courtesy, but you fail to regard the way his face grimaced at your distance. “He told her ‘I love you’ and do you know what she said?”

You look back up at him, and Jimin wonders if you were truly asking him for a second. “She told him ‘I know,’ just like that. Almost like she took it for granted, you know. But I didn’t think of it like that…instead I was jealous of her. Because in her mind, she doesn’t have any doubts that her boyfriend loves her. Which is why she’s able to respond so casually like that…he gives her so much love, that she never has to second guess her answer.”

Giving him a moment to register everything you said, you pause for a bit and smile.

“And Jimin…I have never felt that way with you.”

He winces.

“I have always doubted myself, second guessed your love and honesty. I always thought ‘there’s no way he could love me’ and there was nothing you did to convince me otherwise. But do you know Jimin? Do you know how many times you’ve said, ‘I know’ when I told you how much I love you?”

“_...” His voice dies

“That’s what I want, Jimin. I realize, it’s what I always wanted. That unconditional, blatant love. That’s what I deserve. I went through so much…yet I held onto you still. No matter what anyone said. And if anyone was looking at me right now, into my life, they would think I was crazy. But it was just that I couldn’t let you go. I couldn’t do it, I don’t know why. I just couldn’t…”

There was a glimmer of hope in his dark pupils.

“Even in that letter…I held back so much because I was afraid of surprising you. I could never be honest with myself. So that’s why…thank you for letting me go. For leaving me. Do you know how much I accomplished when you left me, how much I couldn’t accomplish in years? I had an actual orgasm, I left my job, I’m going to start a restaurant with my best friend, Jimin, I gave a guy my number.” His face went through many changes; anger, shock, hurt. But you continued on anyway. “All of that, just because you weren’t around poisoning me. Leaving me was the best thing you did for me, Jimin.”

He begins to tear down, tears fall in his eyes and he looks away. His jaw was clenches and his nostrils flared, telling you he was upset. But you didn’t feel satisfied, you didn’t feel happy that he was as hurt as you had been. You felt nothing for him. Maybe except pity.

Carefully, you step closer to him. Taking his face in your palm.  

“And I hope, Jimin, that leaving me helps you as well. That you stop chasing after meaningless convictions and you find whatever it is that can keep you grounded. You’ve hurt a lot of people Jimin, and for that you will suffer a lot as well. Me, all the girls and people you threw away after using. We never could help each other together, but we can help each other apart. It’s going to stab for a while, and you’ll feel as cold for a very long time. But then, I’ll pray for you to learn Jimin. I’ll try.”

And that was that, the ache lingering in your heart, was pushed all the way down to your stomach. It was still there, but not bothering you as much. Not controlling your destiny any longer. In your senses a melody played in the background; a constricted melancholic piano melody dedicated to love, to the happiness and woes.

This man you stared at, the man you once loved for seven whole years, who was he now? He couldn’t be blamed for everything, you had given him chances to hurt you again and again after all. More importantly, who were you? Definitely not the same woman you’d been when you first found out about Jessica. Not Mina. Not even the new one. You were changing, always evolving and you were proud of that.

You really were so thankful that Jimin had decided not to come home that night. That he continuously left you alone, to stand on your own. Because now your legs felt stronger than ever. There were a lot of people you were thankful for, a lot left to confront but this was your story. So good job you. Your love was first and foremost for yourself. Of course, you’ll continue therapy, you’ll work hard to open a new restaurant, you’ll try to give yourself the happiness you always deserved. Not every day would be great, some days you were going to struggle and there would be a lot of tears. But they’ll be your tears, your struggles, your joy, they won’t be based off of some other person’s mood.

This was only the end of Jimin’s chapter. Your real story will begin from today.

You were never going to convince yourself otherwise. Were never going to push down your feelings and act like they didn’t exist. That was the least Jimin had taught you.

It really was nice outside that rotten cocoon.

He was quiet for the first time in ages, and you honestly preferred silence from him. There were a lot of stupid things he said once he opened his mouth. Why should he become a better person from your pain? What kind of creator allows that?

After a moment of staring at his lost soul, you take a deep breath, exhaling softly. You couldn’t stay here too long, Yoongi had called you, getting your number off someone named Joy, asking you to come over to Cypher Road. He wanted to apologize for that night, as well as meet someone. If Jimin needed help, he should go search for it like an adult.

“Ok, umm…finish up whatever you were up to…I have to head out.” You say, turning around. Jimin doesn’t respond, but you couldn’t care less how he feels right now. “And I signed the divorce papers, they are on your shelf in the closet. Tell me when they are finalized, I’ll be free all week.”

You turn the door handle, pulling the door open halfway before remembering something and spinning back to him.  

“Not… Saturday though. I have a date.”

[m4rkiza]

One day, hop told leon about his feelings towards victor. leon was surprised and laughed, teasing his little brother about being in love at his own best friend, of course,leon still support him,but lets be honest older brother will bully no matter what.

often times,leon teases hop by text,poking fun at him because hop is head over heels on victor, not to mention hop pratically screams on his text whenever he text leon about victor.

leon ofcourse,tells this to raihan,raihan laughed and smiled.

Leon stared for abit,laughed awkwardly and the realization hits.

leon called hop that he...likes raihan,hop laughed hysterically,and of course mocks leon in return, and oh boy,leons lovesick case is way worse than hop.

hop had the courage to ask victor for lunch and is still brave enough to talk to him. leon? leon is hopeless,despite being a tactical genius,an ex-champion and the CEO & chairman of the battle tower, he just doesnt know how,and raihan getting more handsome each day doesnt help either.

well leon doesnt go awkward,and run away whenever raihan goes near,he just doesnt make any move. compared to hop,who already hold hands with victor,and cooked him curry with a heart shapped sausage in the middle.

raihan and leon saying “i love you bro,no homo” everyday doesnt help either,whenever leon tries say that he loved raihan,raihan laughed and replied back with “i love you too champ,no homo” he has the need to say “but i love you with full homo” but of course he didnt.

time pass by,and after months off woo-ing victor,hop tries to confess to the current champion and victor accepted the confession! now theyre boyfriends hip hip horray! hop calls leon about it and leon is very proud,hop asked leon about his progression with raihan and leon shrugged and replied with “still the same hopscotch” with a heavy sigh in the end.

one day,hop suddenly felt the urge to ask raihan how he feels about leon, and so,he goes to hammerlocke, but he doesnt go straight with “hey raihan,do you like leon? because leon does and he probably wants to marry you and make babies with you” nu-uh, hes going to ask raihan about dragon type pokemon first (saying its a part of his studies) THEN leon. 

after hours and hours of discussing about dragons,and hop trying to shift the conversation slowly to leon, he finally asked the question “hey raihan,what do you think of leon? leon talked alot about you,and i wonder about your thoughts about him yknow” raihan stared at hop,looks away,stared at hop again,and he replied with “hes..good and all- i guess” a cough “what did leon said about me? i mean if he mocks me and all,id tell you about the bad stuff,but if he...says good things then,ill tell you the good things,so itll be balanced”

hop stares at raihan,smirked and tells raihan most of it.

that leon is grateful having raihan as his rival, and best friend,because he is reliable in any kind of circumstances, considerate, gentle and patient,especially because leon is a klutz sometimes,raihan never gets angry at him and helped him instead,raihan is also very supportive,yet tries to slow down leon if hes planning something impulsive, and despite his narcistic persona, raihan is humble and polite.

raihan looks down for a sec, pulls his bandana down, (to wipe his tears) and then finally raihan goes on with his opinion on leon

(hop secretly records this because he cant help it,hes tired of his big ol’ brother’s pinning)

raihan is also,very grateful having leon as his rival and best friend,he never spreads negative energy despite always being sorrounded by it,caring,affectionate,a great listener because raihan rants alot,leon also give actual good advices and constructive criticism.a good emotional support too,despite raihans thirst for attention,leon never judged him for it.

hop agrees, and is glad that both cares about each other. and after that he thanked raihan and left,but before he does, raihan asked hop why did hop ask his opinion on leon. hop shrugged and said “leon is just,very glad to have you on his life, and want you to be forever his,okay see you later, raihan!” and hopped on the flying taxi. raihan cant believe he heard that.

leon want him to be...forever his? his what?? 

hop arrived home,and sent leon the stuff he recorded,told leon that hop says the word,and yells at leon to confess already.

leon listened to the recording,expecting something bad but..he didnt. his love for raihan grows wider and his urge to marry date raihan at this point has grown larger than ever.

he finally had the bravery to ask raihan to hang out with him,and maybe,just maybe talk about his feelings.

he texted raihan if hes free on weekends,so that they can hang out on leons apartment, raihan said yes and probably gonna be there at friday so he can sleepover,leon gladly agrees because whats more romantic than confessing your feeling to your best friend on your bed?

the day has come,they spend some time together,heck even had a baby pokemon fight on leons balconny (both just hatched a baby trapinch and a baby axew,of course theyre gonna make them fight) watched the sunset together,platonically,definitely 0 sexual tension.

they showered (sadly not together),had dinner,played with their baby pokemons until it got tired and sleeps, and its finally their turn to sleep.

both got comfortable on the bed,and leon starts the conversation 

“so...hop told me about what you think about me” leon paused for a second to see raihans reaction,raihan just stared at him,waiting for him to continue, “thank you..it... it meant alot coming from you”

raihan just shot an awkward yourewelcome,followed by a very uncomfortable silent.

leon jolted up “raihan,if you want to leave then leave but- but please dont leave me completely because youre 1 of the biggest part of my life,and you,leaving completely would ruin me” leon is in verge of tears. raihan slowly got up,tries to soothe leon that he wont leave no matter what leon will say, leon sighed,and continues “dont try to slow me down for this plan” he glared at raihan like how he does when he battles “raihan i- i like you,like,like like you,love you,full homo,i dont know for how long but im pretty sure its there for along time,because- when the realization hits, it hits hard, it doesnt feel like a giddy puppy love feeling,its something more serious and if you got disgusted i-”

“theres no way im disgusted” raihan cut leon off,grab leons shoulder, “because i like you too,but im too scared to move because throwing 14 years of friendship is not wise at all” leon chuckled and replies “i guess it is huh”

leon tackled raihan,hugging him tight,raihan hugged him back,not wanting to let go. after at least 20 minutes of nonstop hugging,raihan lets go,but leon wont let him,pressing his face on raihans chest. raihan kissed leon on top of his head, “so what are now?” raihan asked,leon looks up “rivals?- wait, um” a pause “..boyfriends? please?”, raihan stared at leon,eyes filled with adoration “boyfriend it is,we already had dinner and played with our kids before so, i guess no date is needed,we are already official before we realize” leon laughed at the respond,let go of the hug,sat on top of raihan,cupped his cheek,peck raihans lip and hid his face next to raihans head. raihan rolled,making him on top of leon. and kissed his boyfriend properly.

after tons of smooches and hugs, they finally go to sleep. raihan sleeping on top of leons tits.

its supposed to be a short headcanon,but i didnt stop. sorry if its messy and all,i didnt plan it to be this long but im hoping that you enjoy this,thank you for reading till the end!

-kize

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Small Town Missed Connections-Part 1 (Jensen X Reader)

Donations (please help. Jobless, and decided to make this my new job so anything helps out! Thanks!) 

(New Series!!! Hopefully! Only if you all love it!) Shout out to @adriellej for being the best at helping me work through writers block!!! PS dont forget to let me know if you want to stay on the tag list!) 

                You heard your phone chime in your back pocket and a smile instantly appeared on your face. You almost dropped the boxes in your hands as you walked down the stairs from the storage in the upper loft of the building. “Easy, someone’s in a cheery mood today. What gives?” Amanda, the sassy 17-year-old blonde you’d hired for summer help, said as you reached the bottom, allowing her to take the top box. “Oh nothing, I just can’t be in a good mood?” you asked with a smile, which she knew hid a secret behind it. She narrowed her eyes and sighed “fine. But one day, I will get it out of you.” She walked away taking the box with her. “Don’t forget to go through that and price everything! I should still have the book under the counter!” you called out as you walked over to the coffee shop.

               “There she is,” an older more cracking voice called out. You set the box down behind the counter and turned smiling at the older gentleman. “Mr. Zukowski! Good morning! How is the coffee and muffin today?” you grinned asking a bit louder so he could hear you. “Good, good, thank you. You seem busy, I won’t hold you up. I just wanted to tell you, the weeds out front are looking a little tall, I could take care of those for you.” He smiled politely. You let a small laugh slip out as you came around the counter, “Mr. Zukowski, I’ve told you before, you help me out by making sure my coffee and muffins taste perfect. Now, I’ll have Zach bag up a couple of muffins for you to take home, and tell Mrs. Zukowski, I’ll be by this afternoon to check on your guys garden okay? I don’t want you back out there after your accident last time okay?” you nodded to him. “I’ll call someone to come and take care of those darn weeds okay?” you helped him back to his seat so he could finish his breakfast and finish reading the paper.

               “You are so sweet, thank you dear.” Mr. Zukowski smiled and patted your hand as he sat down. You smiled at him before going back over to the counter. “Every day, I don’t get how you do it. That man drives me crazy,” Zach told you as you opened the box. “Zach, it’s people like the Zukowski’s that made this sweet little town, just the way it is, perfect. Now, help me with these fall decorations.” You smiled. After getting everything-and everyone where they belonged, you finally had a minute to check your phone.

               ‘Why good morning, I thought you were never going to text me back’ Jensen texted back right after you’d sent good morning. ‘Sorry, it’s been a busy morning at the shop, now I have some weeds to pull, a garden to check on and I need to do a supply order, do you realize how much I hate ordering supplies. I wish there was this magical little button I could click and bam. All the supplies I need-ordered’ you sent back with a face palming emoji.

               Jensen began typing a response then stopped, then the dots came back again. You laughed at his constant typing-deleting-retyping thing he always did. ‘So, if I could spare your attention for a moment, I took a photo this morning and I wanted to get your opinion on it before I post it on Instagram, so do you have time?’ he asked with a heart emoji. You sent back a thumbs up with a smiley face, ‘For your photos Jay, I always have time. Let me see it.’ You sat back in your office chair and smiled as he texted the photo.

               It was of his lake house, just a side view though, from the front porch. The photo was capturing the early morning sunrise with silhouette of trees against the lake. You stared, mesmerized by the photo, wishing you had a large cup of coffee and were curled up in a warm sweater there on the front porch chair, watching the water as you drank your coffee. ‘Whoa…..that is A-M-A-Z-I-N-G, have you posted that yet?!’ you texted back instantly.

               A few moments passed before you had a notification from Instagram, Jays Photography had posted a new photo, with the caption, “Sure missing a near and dear friend this morning, this one is for her.” Two red hearts followed the caption and your heart beat just a tad faster as you liked the photo and replied “What a lucky friend. Photo is incredible. I’m sure she loves it,” you sent the comment and got back to work.

                As the day went on you and Jensen texted back and forth, talking about anything and everything you could want. Business picked up in the afternoon so you’d quickly found yourself busy with customers; meanwhile Jensen had found himself busy as well.

               Jensen had met up with Misha, Vicki, Jared, and Gen and was having dinner all together. “So listen, Vicki and I have been talking and why don’t we all go on a little vacation?” Misha asked the group as they all smiled. “That sounds so wonderful, I can have my mom watched the kiddos and we can be ready to go by the weekend. Where were you thinking of going?” Gen asked setting her fork down so she could take a sip of the strong red wine her and Jared were drinking.

               “Well, we want to go somewhere off the map, a small little town where we can relax and not be bothered by anyone.” Misha told her. Gen nodded after taking a bite of her salad, “There’s the cutest little town I found while googling the other day! We could go there!! It’s like 6-7 hours from here!” she smiled pulling up the name of the town on google.

               The group agreed, the entire time Jensen had remained quiet though, he had been waiting on you to text him back. When you finally did, a grin broke out across his face. “What are you grinning about?” Jared asked as he tried to take a peek at Jensen’s phone. “Nothing, I’m just texting a friend of mine.” Jensen told him. “Come on Jay, you tell me everything, except for what feels like the last 6 months where you’ve been texting someone and not saying a word about it to me. Who is it?” Jared asked again.

               “You never told him about Y/N??” Misha asked popping his head up between the two of them. “Y/N?? Who’s Y/N????” Jared asked before yanking the phone away and began reading through the messages. Jensen glared at him and tried to snatch it back quickly. “What the fuck man! Give that back! It’s mine!” Jared finally gave it back after Jensen had jumped and tried to reach it. “Dude, you need to meet this chick, you guys sound really interested in each other.” He told his best friend, but Jensen glared at him “My cell phone is private, you gonna blurt out anything else?? This girl actually means something to me,” Jensen shook his head and walked off, he’d walk himself home.

               You had just gotten out of the shower when you grabbed your phone, laid down on your bed and texted Jensen again. ‘Okay, finally, we have time to chat, sorry I’ve been super busy with work lately, things are changing and it’s all a little much for me to handle on my own.’ You texted back. A few minutes later Jensen texted back ‘hey 😊 don’t work yourself to hard okay? Believe me, I’m sure my ex-wife has a few stories she could share about how much I worked on my previous job, even though she worked too but that’s beside the point. I’m glad you’re finally able to relax for the night. What did you have for dinner?’ he sent back with another smiley face.

               You laughed and texted the picture of the take out menu, ‘my favorite Chinese place, it’s quick, easy and on my way home from work, plus they have the most amazing egg rolls in the entire world. I love them so much,’ Jay sent a message back a few moments later with two laughing faces. ‘Lucky, I love Chinese, I had dinner with a few friends of mine.’ The conversation carried on until you passed out mid-text. Jensen waited for ten minutes until he finally realized you’d fell asleep. He smiled, wondering if anything would you be able to meet some day? Would you like him, not because he is an actor and made lots of money but because he preferred chocolate syrup over his strawberry ice cream? Or how about the way he watches movies, a medium popcorn, because the small isn’t big enough to share, and it always disappears before the movie starts and the large is too big, way to much salt and butter; two candy choices, a sweet and a sour, both enhance and cancels the salty popcorn, as well as a large soda. How about how he cooks, slow, but to perfection, and there’s always a meat, potato, and vegetable. He was more worried you were just interested in the fame, not for who he really was. But maybe this trip would help him clear his head some.

@adriellej @sgarrett49 @smoothdogsgirl @mrssamfuckingwinchester @hobby27 @traceyaudette @mogaruke @thewalkingdistancefrom​ @booger206​ @ellen-reincarnated1967​ @heimganger​ @moonlitskinwalker​ @teamfreewill-imagine​ @stoneygirl​ @monkeymcpoopoo​ @sandlee44​ @asgardianvamp21​ @frozenhuntress67​ @babypink224221​ @just-another-busy-fangirl​ @flamencodiva​ @for-the-love-of-the-fandom​ @auriel187​ @animenerdz1819​ @jessica-marsh09​ @woodworthti666​ 

[jadedbirch]

Hi so i have a question if you dont mind and im curious to hear your thoughts on it. So what do you think of lwj becoming emperor in the end? I read the novel watched cql but i might mix up stuff with my personal headcanons too lmao. So maybe i have a wrong understanding or forgot stuff but to me it always seemed like not sth lwj would actually want for himself. I thought he wanted to help bring justice to normal (aka not rich clan) people 1/3 probably sry for this long ask

(which i think as emperor he would be a little distanced to the normal people with the duties to the other clans and all? I mean he would be a kind of politician). I could go on like no education to become the emperor/leading people on such a big scale (with having an older brother i dont even think he was ever meant to become clan leader was he? 2/3

But idk im going from some similar historical situations and how the leader of a state or a group of people usually acted and what mattered then) and also xiaosong parallels? My headcanon is he would have enjoyed traveling with wwx and helping people like xiaosong did while they were both still alive. Anyway thanks for your time and i hope i can get your thoughts on it. Have a good day :) 3/3

Hi there, nonnie!  Not sure what makes me the expert to tackle this, but I’m happy to try!

First, I think we need to establish which canon we’re talking about here.  In MDZS canon, LWJ and WWX get married, fuck like rabbits, and go on night hunts together while treating Cloud Recesses as their home base.  It sounds like Lan Qiren is running the sect, at least until Lan Xichen comes out of seclusion, which in the book (extras) happens a few months after Guanyin Temple, if I’m not mistaken.

In CQL canon, LWJ becomes Chief Cultivator/Xiandu, which is not the same thing as Emperor and it’s a pretty important distinction.  In order to become Emperor you have to, historically speaking, either be placed directly (via blood or adoption) into the line of succession (like Chinese dynastic cycles or Emperor Hadrian),  or via conquest (Napoleon, Alexander the Great).  I’m not an expert, but my understanding of the position of Chief Cultivator is that it’s an appointment.  In fact, they are (at least ostensibly) elected via a democratic process, with all the sects getting to vote for the appointment.  (Whether the elections are rigged are a different and totally existential discussion.) Before Wei Ying calls Lan Zhan “Xiandu” in CQL, the other people with this title were Jin Guangyao and Wen Ruohan.  It’s actually not clear to me whether Jin Guangshan ever held the title of Xiandu in CQL, but he certainly positioned himself that way. According to MDZS, this position was created by Jin Guangshan only after Jin Ling was born, so Wen Ruohan being referred to as “Xiandu” in CQL would be out of sync with MDZS canon.

Regardless, I think your question is what do I think about LWJ taking this position in the end.  So since this only happens in CQL, I have to base my answer on CQL!LWJ and what I think about him as a person.  At the end of the show LWJ says “We took a vow here” and we get the bunny lantern flashback (always so sweet to see the first time LWJ fell for WWX).  His vow was to curb the violent and assist the weak, and live without regrets.  As you say, LWJ is very much not a political animal. He can assist the weak and curb the violent without needing to take a position of so much political clout.  In fact, we know he’s been “where the chaos is” for the last 16 years anyways, but of course the implication is that he was only doing that because he was looking for Wei Ying.  Plus, he comes from a very wealthy sect, so he doesn’t need the money, and he has never shown any inclination for power.  There are other people who can do this: Nie Huaisang, Jiang Cheng, Sect Leader Yao (LMAO J/K, I hope he chokes). So why bother???

To me personally, it’s pretty apparent that he takes that position because he has to protect Lan Xichen from the fallout at Guanyin Temple.  Lan Xichen is now in exactly the same position that Lan Wangji was after Wei Wuxian died - he is suspected of collaborating with a demonic cultivator, he’s been implicated in Nie Mingue’s death, and tbh I wouldn’t be surprised if certain factions (Sect Leader Yao, looking at you again!) start hollering for his blood.  It’s very FORTUNATE that Nie Huaisang manipulated him into killing Jin Guangyao, in fact, things could have looked a lot worse for him had he not.  Someone is going to have to clean up the mess Jin Guangyao left behind and part of cleaning up that mess is making sure that Lan Xichen is exculpated, or at least not further implicated in his crimes.  And Lan Wangji isn’t going to trust Jiang Cheng or Nie Huaisang or any of those other fools, whom frankly he kinda loathes, to have his brother’s best interest at heart at this point.  In that regard, it makes sense that he would let Wei Ying go on his walk-about, while he stays home to clean up the enormous JGY fallout and take care of his brother.  I can only presume as soon as the mess is clean, Wei Ying is back, and they’re happily and grossly married and back to humping like rabbits, he will find a way to unburden himself of his responsibilities as Chief Cultivator.  Surely, this should all be Nie Huaisang’s problem anyways?  ;)

That may not position LWJ’s actions in the same “noble” light as him purely altruistically just wanting to help out the little guy and uphold justice, but I don’t see Lan Wangji as a purely 100% nobly motivated character, because that would make him boring as hell.  He is very good and very pure in many ways, but he’s also petty and he’s embittered and he’s been repressing decades of fucked up trauma (let’s not even mention his fucked up childhood).  What he needs is some cuddle time with his husband and a lot of therapy, not this Chief Cultivator gig.  So yeah, that’s my take on it anyways.  Thank you for thinking that I might have something useful to offer on the topic!  Love you!