#between movies she'd encourage me to let it all out while my head was on her shoulder (and throwing in some compliments when she could)

[viisator]

After the little mermaid turned into sea foam

Pairings: Nishimura Riki X F!Reader

Genre: Historical Fiction, Fantasy, Fairytale.

Warning: none.

Description: After the little mermaid turned into sea foam, when the Prince she loved woke up in the arms of his new wife- what did he ever think? What happened to him? Did he ever think of her?

Reminder: Pov shifts between First person(Ni-ki) and Third person. I also encourage you to read the fairytale The Little Mermaid first if you have not read it yet so you can enjoy this fic more.

Not Proofread

Word count: 696 words.

(This fanfic is inspired by the classical fairytale "The Little Mermaid" by Hans Christian Andersen)

++ This fanfic has been sitting in my drafts since my favourite Disney classic, The Little Mermaid by Disney was released! And right after finishing the movie, I immediately read Christian Andersen's and while reading, I couldn't help but imagine Ni-ki as the Prince....so...yeah! Have fun reading!!++

Read the original story by Hans Christian Andersen

• • • • •

The time I woke up with my wife in my embrace and felt her hot breath. The last evening at the wedding rewound in my head.

Everything was perfect, the cathedral was gleaming with all the surrounding lights; and Reia, the girl in my arms shined the most. But I could see somewhere, somehow in the side of my eyes, I saw her there, eyes bloodshot and lips trembling.

My heart ache as I ignored her hopeful longing stares. Her hand quietly trembled at her sides, stopping the urge to reach and grab hold of me...my dumb foundling, whom I thought was the maiden who saved me laying dead at the beach. I wanted to hold you and tell you one last time. But you are not the one.

When I embraced her at the deck, on our way to the marriage, I told her she'd always be the one, that I'd rather choose her over the Princes in my arms. I know how it felt; to cry but unable to shed tears. Her tight embrace resembles the touch of the sea that's still fresh in my memories, while her lips are the sweetness of roses.

Up until now I still have the thought that maybe, just maybe she was; the one who saved me and caught me in the depths of the sea, the one who swum with me up to the shore, the one who placed her warm lips on my forehead, and the one who sang to me with her most handsome voice- just maybe.

But I know it wasn't her, it wasn't my dumb foundling. It was she, the Princess in my arms.

The girl in my arms, the princes of Blue Islands, the girl who was taught in the church, the girl with skin so delicately fair, and the deepest ocean blue eyes, the one who sang so beautifully- but her palms, the way her soft palms held me, it wasn't the girl who saved me in the depths of the sea.

I stood up from my wife's embrace, Reia, and sat down, looking around, I noticed a metal reflecting the morning light caught my eyes, it was a dagger laying on the cold floor, with its handle curved in an ocean shape.

I went out of the room and goes up to the deck, where the cold morning air hit my face. It smells like the sea, it smells like fresh seaweed just like my dumb foundling.

But she's nowhere to be found. Where is she? The girl who danced with me the best, the one who can express her feelings through her eyes, the one who was at my side, the one I know who loved me truly-

The Prince, Niki, called out crews that are inside the ship to search and look for the little mermaid, he ordered them to dive into the depths of the sea, and he asked them where they last saw her. His mind was all over the place wondering, searching and longing for the little mermaid's expressive and lovable gaze, her warm gentle touch, her graceful dance, her soft hair... her warm lips.

My dumb foundling...where are you? Just for a minute, that is all I ask, I want to call you and show yourself to me. Let me see and watch your gaze upon me. The elegance of your dance drew me to adore you more than before. Just for a minute, please, I want to see you and hold you before it's too late.

I wanted to, but I could not, after all this time, I know I did not love you.

But as dawn neared, his confused wife stared and waited for him silently at his side as he clench the silver dagger in his hand staring deeply at the ocean's horizon. He felt his heart clench, he lost her, the girl who loved him the most.

Niki's tears run through his warm cheeks. He should have looked at her when he felt her gaze last evening, he should have listened even though she could not speak, he should have asked her name even though she couldn't say it, and he should have stayed; beside her, with her never shedding eyes.

And now, he stares at the dark waves wondering if she's there, wondering if she's alright, hoping that she's fine, because maybe he does, and Niki does from the start know that it was her who saved him from the strong waves on his very birthday. The one who lay him under the hot sands of the beach. The one who sang him awake.

His dumb foundling. He loved her quite much.

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©Viisator2023 - all rights reserved.

[hamartiologic]

Let's Play Perfect Love: Pandora Edition [#1]

No, this isn't a Pandora mod (yet). This post is to document my thoughts as to how Pandora would approach the scenario in Perfect Love as I replay it. I've broached these topics before, namely the batting cages/party option, but I'd like to go more in-depth as a sort of challenge to really delve into Pandora's character! And maybe this really will help out the Pandora mod getting started, who knows.

I hope you enjoy this approach to the game & my accompanying commentary. I encourage others to do the same, as I find it an interesting way to engage in character study!

This post covers the prologue of Perfect Love, so it's mainly Pre-Milo and the beginnings of a new version of him, but not quite fully-made into what he could be.

Without further ado... Let's get started!

Some first parts of the playthrough were documented in the Perfect Love Fan Server. By all means, do join us if you haven't yet! We're a pretty active community engaging in all types of creativity.

Typos will be corrected through brackets, [like so]. C4, hope you're reading this well. Messages will be indented and signified with a timestamp so as to not be confused with the large blocks of quotes that are also indented.

First off, Eris and Pandora are largely, largely different from the get go.

Eris' perspective:

For a while, you were obsessed with the idea of a specific love. Not the type that was advertised in romance books or romantic movies. Not the type that grows together, that supports each other, the type that others envy. You wanted the type [that] corrodes and suffocates. The type that held onto you, clinging, begging to be loved. Who could only think about you, to only have you, whatever [the cost]. You had dated countless people to find that love, all failures. It was never enough, and it would never be enough. You discarded them all aside and decided… If no one could give you the love you craved… Then you would create someone who could. Wouldn't that be fun?

In Pandora's case, the type of love he desires is... what I'd call a 'backstage' love. Someone who doesn't need to see the act he puts on to decide he's worth their time. Someone who sees the person behind the mask and loves all of her regardless.

Pandora's thoughts on obsession are... interesting. She likes the attention she gets, and she wouldn't be averse to having someone's attention solely on her, but the issue is that she always feels like all the obsession she's been subject to so far is a result of expectations and an imposed image upon her—in other words, the love is reserved for someone who looks and acts like Pandora, but isn't actually Pandora. Just an ideal that the person created in their head based off of Pandora's act. It's suffocating for him. If someone really loved him, the real him, he would accept the obsession.

Pandora's dating history is null as a result of this: she believes that the person that all her suitors loved was someone else, and that she couldn't live up to what they asked her to be, whether or not they actually thought of the situation that way. He likes being himself way too much to concede to another person's image of him, but he also doesn't believe he could be seen for who he really is. This also brings up the fact that she has moral OCD, so she doesn't think she'll be accepted if she isn't wholly upright.

The beginning narration and we're already starting off with paragraphs. Hope some of you are still here with me!

10:10 PM - [img attached below] There he is. we did it gang

10:12 PM - Eris is so bitey it's kinda shocking seeing their dialogue w/ Pandora's name. Pandora would not say that she'd think it at most 10:12 PM - and then jump into a lake about it

Incidentally, I already actually wrote how the confrontation between Pandora and Ryan would end up. It's by no means complete, but here it is for the curious:

10:15 PM - [img attached below] Man equating this w/ Pandora is kinda hard… he'd date someone if he knew they could accept all of him which is so hard for her because of his constant distrust in others (but also Pandora's not going to be as fast as Eris in asking Milo out lolgsdjdjs)

10:16 PM - [img attached below] I think… this is what Pandora would want…? Not sure? <- he's ur oc bro?????

Haven, as in a place where Pandora can rest and simply be. I think this is fitting!

10:17 PM - [img attached below] panon (canon but Pandorafied)

10:21 PM - [img attached below] Let's see. If I'm remembering Pandora mythos right Pandora's reason for choosing batting cages would be to let off some steam in a physical manner, acting on her really violent impulses Pandora's reason for choosing party would be because that's usually what she defaults to--easily moving past difficult emotions by drowning them out. Repressing her anger in favor of enjoying herself instead. Canonically, Pandora would probably tend towards the party option…

10:22 PM - And also because I imagine the crew would be understanding of Pandora's frustration, so he trusts them to an extent regarding this. Actually what if I saved this all for a tumblr post yeah

From conception, I always thought of Pandora to tend toward manipulation route more due to how he already navigates his social life. The only thing stopping him from already being manipulation-pilled is his morality. I echo the sentiment that Pandora is Eris but with a massive guilt complex, lol.

Here we are at the party! Valli, if only I had enough energy to run a blog for you like people have done with Desmond, Seph, and Iya. Alas, I cannot be that. Anyhow.

The Holly-Valli conflict is interesting. Though I've joked about how manipulation Pandomilo come to be their manipulation forms, I understand that this is the inciting incident for that transformation. I think Pandora would note that Holly was here, emphasizing that she's on Valli's side. Leaving out her disagreement with Valli's lack of integrity, she'll end up stoking the fires of the lingering resentment. Pandora understands, more than anyone, the feeling of being the underdog, of punishment. She knows how frustrating it is, even moreso in the state that she'd be in to make the batting cages/party decision. She doesn't outright encourage something so destructive that Valli would get hurt, but if Valli were to express her frustration, Pandora would accept it and say she has the right to do so.

It's because of this lack of decisive action that I have the inkling that leading Milo down to his manipulation form would be a longer journey. Or maybe not—if he's been observing Pandora all this time, surely he would catch onto how the latter carries himself in social spaces and connect the dots. I wonder if Milo would see Pandora's ability to metaphorically dance around like this as a strength that answers his question of being able to stand up for himself. Pandora's confident voice ringing out, his well-honed charisma, his beeline for the proverbial prize, whatever that may be—Milo would certainly understand that these are prized weapons that Pandora has become an expert in.

Taking that for himself, what do we get? A Manipulation Milo that sweettalks and identifies his conversational partner's preferred way of communication in order to build a network of connections as Pandora has.

Also, I imagine the scene of Eris introducing Valli to Milo as their future husband would instead be Pandora introducing Milo as someone new she found that seemed cool to hang out with. Valli would probably say something like, "your collection of people is neverending, huh," referencing Pandora's elaborate web of connections, I suppose.

Eris:

You are supposed to agree with me. Remember what you promised?

In Pandora's case, the text would be something like...

You have to accept people, even at their lowest. Relationships are a one-way mirror.

Though... that's off the top of my head. It's not to say Pandora doesn't trust Valli for their relationship to be a two-way street, it's more that Pandora doesn't think his baggage should be anyone's to deal with, but he likes digging into other people's own out of curiosity and to earn rapport with them?

Holly-Valli would more or less be the screaming match that it is in canon. Probably.

I feel like Pandora would be actually pissed on Valli's behalf regarding Holly's behavior. Acting out Valli's anger when she makes excuses. Being wronged is just too frustrating to deal with. Pandora would know.

Eris manipulating Milo to be more spiteful towards Ryan and actively plan his downfall is interesting. Yet again, this is where Eris and Pandora diverge. Remember what I said about Pandora moving past difficult emotions by drowning them out? The solution in her mind is to simply live a better life than Ryan would wish for Milo. That, in itself, is the best revenge. And it's not like anyone would know, but that's part of the reason why Pandora is the way she is: being the best she can be is her revenge against all who said otherwise.

But then again, that lack of expressing her spite is... mainly for herself. She would probably empathize with Milo's resentment the same way she did with Valli. 'You don't have to do anything to get back at that person, but if you did, I'd understand.'

If you reached this point, thank you so much for reading all of my ramblings thus far! I hope I was coherent and consistent enough in my reasoning and characterization of Pandora despite my candidness. I'll probably refine the more difficult parts of this and elaborate on stark differences in writing soon enough, should that be a point of interest to anyone.

See you in the next part of Perfect Love: Pandora Edition! [Edit: Here it is!]

[unhingedselfships]

Kimi feels like she doesn't contribute. Kadokura disagrees.

....

"I just worry I don't do enough."

Kadokura Kenshi was used to half tuning out Kimi's assorted mopings. He was good at listening just enough to reassure her adequately, while not actually paying that much attention to whatever she was whining about at the time. 

She was insecure, self loathing, had more issues than he had-

Not that he had any!

-and honestly just prone to spirals of depression.

She was his, and he adored her, but sometimes it wasn't worth giving all his attention to listen to her vent the same old worries.

This one though? This one caught his attention.

"Kimberly."

She fidgeted, she knew that tone. 

"Well I do. You do so much for me. And I'm just… here."

He stood, and she blinked at him as he paced across the floor, the girl suddenly a little nervous. He moved more when he was agitated. Though she didn't really need to worry unless he went entirely still. 

"Let's see here, shall we?"

Tilting her head in that charming, adorable, curious way of hers, he flashed her a smile, and began, ticking off fingers as he went.

“You cook for me, you’re a good assistant when I’m cooking, never in the way, always helpful.

You keep the house organized and spruce the place up, give it more personality than I ever bothered with but always keep my tastes in mind.

You help me wash and dye my hair, cheer me up when I’m in a bad mood.

You explain your silly little computer games to me - okay, I’m joking, that’s actually a favor I do for you. Listening to you explain your games, I mean.

But you pick movies for us to watch, and never mind if I tell you to pick something else.

You give me massages when I’m sore or sometimes just to be nice, and you hold me when I can’t sleep. 

You give me smashing advice on matters of business, and you listen to me carefully even when I’m ranting, and you trust my judgment, and you make me laugh with your very stupid jokes-“

He took a breath, glancing over at the girl. What flashes of her face he could see between her fingers, bashfully hiding, were a bright pretty pink.

He liked making her flush like that. 

"Carrying on,

You have great ideas about what to do with the garden, and you keep me company when I’m swimming."

Kadokura blushed, turning slightly embarrassed.

"You do the, ah, things with - the sniper things."

He shook it off and resumed his faux-stern lecture.

"You get between me and the dog when we pass a dog on the street - don’t think I haven’t noticed! 

And you make the best candies and pastries, and you even put them directly in my mouth when I’m feeling like a lazy ass. 

You scratch my scalp, which basically feels better than sex - don’t give me that look! 

You let me lie on you all the damn time, which I’m pretty sure has to get uncomfortable but you wait a long time before asking me to move. 

You encourage me when I’m feeling cranky, and you always have such - such nice things to say about me. 

You give me advice on my wardrobe, which, mind you, has actually helped me start conversations that resulted in new connections-“

Taking another deep breath and pausing to take a gulp of the drink she'd poured for him earlier. She'd collapsed onto the couch, burying her face into a cushion.

The dramatic stop-

or 'stahp' rather

-was just as endearing as her other cute quirks. She was so darling. His darling.

And he wasn't done. 

Humming, arms folded behind his back, he continued.

"Where was I, ah, yes,

You explain things so well. You always take the time to explain stuff that isn’t making sense to me, even if I’m getting frustrated, which, I know I’m not the most fun to be around, ok? 

And you try so, so hard to be flexible and adjust and you’re always putting me first. Too much, even. 

But you take baths with me, and you don’t complain about the weird mixed drinks I make up, and you make such nice faces, and it really cheers me up. 

You don’t even complain when I - when I become useless. You pick up after my messes and make sure I'm taken care of. 

You look out for my health, and - there are just a million things you do for me, Kimi. I'm not alone when I wake up. You go for drives with me, and you track down activities to do together and places to see, and you’re always willing to spend time with me-"

Kenshi cut himself off, turning away from her for a moment. In a way, it hurt, that she didn't realize her own significance. And thinking about all she did in plain terms-

It was a lot. Overwhelming. No one had ever cared so much. Feelings were confusing and sometimes upsetting but there was no denying. She loved him. 

It was so much. 

He cleared his throat, and turned back, faux-stern and ready again, "Anyway. That was the first half. Shall I continue?"

It was quiet, and he took a moment to check on her. One wide teary eyed visible, the other still smooshed against the cushion, lip trembling, she caught his gaze and reached for him.

"Oh! Sweetheart, no, don't cry," all fluttering hands and doting, he descended upon her, with soft shushing sounds.

Had he miscalculated? Hurt her? Again?

She tugged and he curled around her on the couch, hold tender and protective.

Her watery, "I love you," met with his quiet, "I know."

Her mumbled, "I don't deserve you," met with his fond, "I don't know about that."

Her clinging, "Stay with me," met with his certain, "Always."

Poor thing. Always so easily overwhelmed. Her emotions were always so big, so powerful. She didn't do things by half measures. He should have considered that before lecturing her. Or maybe she should have considered it before saying dumb things. 

Oh well. It didn't matter. She'd fall apart, and he'd hold her together. Just like she always did for him. They were bound to each other now. Normally he'd scold himself for being flowery and poetic like her but-

This was deeper than law and bodies. Than ceremony and tradition.

She was his, and he was hers.

And that, was that.

[cosmicmakos]

imagine your f/o doing everything in their power to ease the stress and/or pain that you're currently experiencing

even if they're busy with work and other important duties, helping you with whatever is troubling you becomes a priority

[farfromsugafanfic]

Sutures - Chapter Ten: Amiodarone

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): family member hospitalization, therapy, angst if you squint

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

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The first thing you felt--before you opened your eyes--was Yoongi's white T-shirt against your cheek and the warmth of his skin beneath it. His arm was around you and his hand rested on the peak of your hip. You opened your eyes and looked up to see his hair splayed across his forehead and his lips pouted.

You smiled as you slowly removed yourself from Yoongi's arms. He stirred as you stood up and were away from his grasp, but he softly moved as he rolled onto his side and his arms reached for where you had once been. You could get used to waking up next to Yoongi every morning. Something about the way he missed you--even when he wasn't awake--made your heart swell.

You quickly pushed those thoughts away as you took two mugs from the table and flipped them right side up. While you were used to cheap hotels with packages of instant coffee and--if you were lucky--an electric tea kettle, this hotel, however, had a full coffee maker and a few coffee brands to choose from. You chose a brand you recognized and placed it in the coffee maker.

It wasn't long before the entire room smelled of coffee. As you were pouring the second cup of coffee, you felt a soft touch on your waist and turned to catch Yoongi's soft smile and messy hair as he reached for one of the mugs.

"Thanks," he said, his voice raspy and deep.

You nodded and took a sip of your coffee and sat down at the table, Yoongi soon following and sitting across from you.

"You like it black?"

"Yeah," you said. "My dad would always drink it black and when I was old enough that's how he made it for me. It just kind of stuck."

"Do you miss them?"

"Of course," you said. "It's hard when they're so far away, but I don't regret staying here. I can make a living here, more so than I could in the US."

"When did you see them last?"

"Around a year ago. Minki came with me and it was the first time he'd been to the US and the first time he met my family. They didn't like him that much. I guess I should've listened to them." You chuckled sardonically and took a large sip of coffee, creating a silence--while not uncomfortable--had a small bit of tension laced in. "What about you? You don't get to see your family much either, right? Being an idol and all?"

The question caused him to sit up straight and meet your eyes before quickly looking back down at the wooden table. "Uh, yeah, we usually see our families a couple of times a year. Usually towards the end of the year and then sporadically throughout. Some see their families more often cause they live near Seoul, but getting to Daegu is hard. We didn't always get along when I first moved, so it was hard for a while."

"Oh," you said. While all families fight and disagree, you couldn't imagine not talking to your family or not having their support. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said. "We've moved past it. It was a long time ago. We talk more often now and they really want to meet you."

You laughed, not sure if it was from the nerves of thinking about meeting his family or simply because the idea itself was laughable because you weren't in a relationship. "Why? I mean, they know what we're trying to do, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "They're convinced it won't work though. We're soulmates. We'll always come back to each other."

"It's worked before. Pairs of soulmates able to distance themselves and move on. I think we can do it."

"Yeah," he said, his words punctuated by sips of coffee. "Yeah, we can." There were a few moments of silence before he set his mug down and his eyes met yours. "So, I promised you a proper date, but after everything that happened yesterday, do you want to risk going out into the city?"

"Not really," you said. "I don't even want to leave the room. I want to see the city, but it makes me nervous just thinking about going back out there."

Yoongi reached across the table, his fingers brushing over the back of your hand. "I'll bring you back someday when we can properly wander the city."

Your stomach flipped. You knew it was probably just an empty promise and supposed to be comforting, but considering you had just talked about distancing yourselves from one another, it seemed unwise to promise, even something empty and trivial.

---

Two hours later and the two of you were laid on the bed, close, but not touching. Empty plates littered the bedside tables and each of you held a wine glass in your hand. You smiled as you sipped the deep red alcohol and felt as a buzz came over your senses. It wasn't unpleasant, just like a small vibration in your head. The same one that had convinced you to sleep with Yoongi the first time you met him.

"You're sure this isn't too much?" you asked, glancing down at the nearly three hundred dollar room service bill.

Yoongi laughed. "You really don't have to worry about it."

"It makes me feel bad," you said. "Will you let me pay for something later?"

"If it makes you feel better." His fingers glided over the skin of your left hand that rested on the bed, dangerously close to his thigh.

The couple in the movie you were watching kissed and you felt a stirring low in your stomach. It had been so long since you'd felt Yoongi's lips on yours. You knew he was feeling the same way, as he squirmed slightly beside you.

"You feel it, too?"

"Yeah," he said. "We need to try and resist it."

"Didn't the therapist say to try and get through it with mainly friendly things?"

"I think so."

His arm came around you and his skin felt like ice on a sunburn. You nearly let out a moan. You wanted to feel his lips on your neck and his hands on your thighs. The bruising way he grabbed your skin without leaving any bruises. How his hair looked pushed back and the way his lips swelled after even the softest of kisses.

"Yoongi, can--can I kiss you?"

"I don't think that's exactly friendly."

"Just one," you said. "It'll be less than we did last time this happened."

"All right," he said. "But, we can't let it go too far."

You nodded and shifted so that you faced him, the front of your body pressed into his side. His hand came to rest on the small of you back and his lips came to meet yours before you'd fully closed your eyes.

They were soft, like always. You could taste the red wine on his lips and the hesitation as he pushed the tip of his tongue into your mouth. His hand bunched the fabric of your T-shirt and your hands laced in his hair. You never wanted to let go.

Yoongi pulled away first, although his eyes were pained as he did so. He reached up and smoothed your hair back.

"Damn," he said. "If only I'd met you before Jihee."

"Yoongi, you can't mean that."

"Maybe if it was a different time, or if I wasn't an idol, I don't know, but I like to think there's a universe where we work out."

Your lips formed words you hadn't thought of yet when your phone vibrated on the bed beside you. You reached for it and saw it was your mom. It was nearing 9 p.m. in Los Angeles and your mom normally called you just after dinner. 

"I--uh--have to take this." 

---

You walked into the bathroom and answered the phone as you shut the door. 

"Mom? Hey, what's going on?" 

"Sumi!" Your mom's voice sounded panicked. "Are you still in Japan?" 

"Yeah, we're flying back to Korea tomorrow?" You paused. "Is everything okay? You don't usually call me at this time." 

"Well, I don't want to worry you. I want you to enjoy the rest of your time in Japan, okay?"

"Okay..."

"Grandma fell and is in the hospital. She broke her wrist and the doctors say her blood sugar was too low. They don't know what caused it yet, but they're going to monitor her for a few days." 

You nodded and already felt the tears forming in your eyes. Your grandmother was nearing ninety and you knew your time with her was limited, but she'd been the one to encourage you to stay in Korea and do what you wanted. She always knew and wanted what was best for you and you loved her more than anyone for it. 

"Okay," you said, your voice cracking. "Is there anything I can do?" 

"Call when you get back tomorrow. If she's feeling better, I'm sure she'd love to talk to you." 

"Of course. I'll call as soon as I'm back." You reached up and wiped the few tears that had managed to squeeze out. "Just keep me updated."

You heard a soft knock on the door as you hung up the door. You opened it and met with a soft-eyed Yoongi, his arms almost immediately coming to rest on your hips. 

"Everything okay?" 

"Uh. yeah," you said. "My grandma's in the hospital. It's not too concerning at the moment, I just, uh, get a bit emotional when it comes to her." 

He nodded and led you back to the bed. He didn't say anything else, just electing to keep one of his arms around your shoulders and turn the volume on the movie up. He handed you an unopened bag of cookies as if he knew it was exactly what you needed. 

---

A few days later

"So, how are things going?" the therapist asked, her notebook resting on her lap and her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose. 

"Uh, well, we get along better now. I-I think we understand each other better now. But, we've run into something a little more worrisome." 

"What's that?" 

"Well, we had a fight a while ago. I'm fairly close with his other members and one of them was trying to comfort me and when he touched me, I burned him." 

"Yeah, I also have a weird emotional attachment to her. Like, my emotions are tied to hers. If she's sad, then I feel overwhelmingly sad until she's happy again." 

You turned to Yoongi with your lips pursed in curiosity. "What?" 

"Oh, I thought you'd caught onto to that." 

You had noticed that Yoongi had seemed to understand you better recently. He was always there whenever your mood flatlined, you soon found Yoongi coming with a snack or a cup of tea. Sometimes he stuck around and sometimes he didn't, but he never failed to jumpstart your mood.

"Is this happening constantly or only after a conflict?" 

"I'm always tuned into her emotions. However, negative emotions always come through the strongest, whether caused by me or not." 

You felt him looking at you and it caused your cheeks to heat. "Oh, the burning happened twice. Once as we mentioned and the second time I burnt through another's T-shirt, but I didn't actually burn him." 

The therapist nodded and chewed on the end of her pen. "There aren't many precedents for these sorts of things, as you know, soulmates are rare. It's even rarer for a pair to decide they don't want to be together. The physical symptoms we've seen before were not that different from the ones you're exhibiting." She jotted down a few notes and flipped back to a previous page. "Now that you're exhibiting these symptoms though, it means that you've grown to the stage where we can begin to back off the connection.

"The only things you two need to do is to try and minimize the conflict between the two of you, continue resisting urges to the best of your ability, and we will be prescribing some medication. Since such a high profile soulmates case has come up, the interest in research recently has increased and so your medical treatment may change. So, you'll need to go in for a checkup in after about a week on the new medication."

"I have a quick question," Yoongi said. "My, uh, parents really want to meet Sumi. They know we're trying to break this and everything, but we have some time off and I was wondering if that would hurt things if she came with me to Daegu?"

The therapist shrugged. "I don't see why it would. It's perfectly fine for the two of you to act as friends and you have to stay together until the bond is completely severed. However, if something feels off during the visit, leave." 

You looked at Yoongi. He'd left you speechless for the second time during the appointment. He never brought up meeting his parents, only that they wanted to meet you. Your palms went clammy and you began to pick at the skin around your fingernails. You wished you'd brought your needles.

---

"You never mentioned actually meeting your parents," you said, carrying your prescription and ducking into the car before anyone could catch sight of you and Yoongi. 

"I didn't really think it was happening, but, I don't know. If we only have one soulmate, I want them to meet mine."

"Okay," you said. "I-uh-I just don't have much time to prepare." 

"What? Why would you need to prepare?"

"So they'll like me." 

"You don't need to worry about that, Sumi. They'll love you." 

---

Mom (3:45 am): Sumi!

You (3:47 am): Yes? Is everything all right?

Mom (3:49 am): Hey, isn't it early there? Shouldn't you be asleep?

You (3:50 am): It's all right. How's Grandma?

Mom (3:52 am): Oh, she's fine. She's getting discharged now. She's actually in fairly good spirits. You'll never guess what arrived this morning.

Sumi (3:53 am): What?

Mom (3:55 am):

Mom (3:55 am): From Min Yoongi. It made her so happy. Give him our thanks.

[frogsandfries]

So yesterday, I'm at my parents' again, it's Friday, and I'm trying to sleep off the week when my mother is going off again. The other day, I was watching Moana again and for some reason, somewhere between my existence, and my desire to be industrious while watching a movie, I pissed her off. Of course, as much time as I've been spending over there since I got thrown out, I'm honestly surprised she hasn't blown up at me specifically sooner. I may or may not discuss that later.

But I was trying to sleep and she was back on her soapbox, so I grumbled something about taking that as her way of saying she loves me. I assumed, y'know, as the mother, she'd have something....maybe mean, but still caring.

Nope.

She did not hesitate in spewing more roiling bile at me. I'm not going to pretend to hope she didn't mean it. I'm going to take her at face value. She can go ahead and hate me, that's fine. But my dad has warned her over and over, given her plenty of fair warning, clearly spelled out, and done his best to help her get and keep a job and she hasn't taken him seriously. She has had ample opportunity to put some money together to get her vehicle fixed, to get a job she would like, to get her head fixed. When she is homeless in a snowbank or whatever, she better not dare even think to come crying to me. She won't darken my doorstep if she knows what's good for her, because I will defend my property. She has called me a slut, she has called me a whore, she has called me queer as an insult. She has made me feel terrible about my body.

This woman who is supposed to be my mother, the woman who carried me for nine months and cared for me, but only until I was able to make food for myself and get myself and my siblings to school. And now she hates me, never wants to see me again, wishes I would disappear and never return.

Fine.

But words are more than just noises issued from the human mouth or written on paper or stone or sand. Sticks and stones may break my bones and bruise my flesh, but words reach deeper and leave marks that hurt for longer.

I guess I sort of know that the only reason I want to have a child is so that I can play the story out again, but make sure it's done the right way, to give the love and respect and encouragement that I never got. I don't believe I could be any less empathetic of a person to a child that came out of my body, than, say, came out of the body of my own sister, or a sibling of a person I'm in a relationship with. I cared for my ex's nephew as if I was going to have the opportunity to watch the boy grow up. Even though I have a terrible relationship with my sister, and I hate her husband, but I still care for their nieces. If my nieces needed something, I would hope their parents let them know, I would do anything for them. Now that I'm separated from my ex, and my van is my own, I know it's not a lot of space, but if my sister needed a place for her girls to sleep, I would hope my sister knows they would be welcome to stay with me until my sister could figure something out.

I think my ex's biggest concern would be that my sister would be like my mother.

Or maybe my ex's biggest concern was that they don't place the same importance on family that I do. My family may suck, but if I know if I'm in trouble, I can rely on them..... well, at least my dad and my younger two siblings. And it's kind of my obligation to provide a safe harbor for my younger siblings--which includes all three of them.

Certainly my biggest concern would be that my sister would be like our mother. I wouldn't have that shit. I would give her six months to find a job. I'll be marching her ass to the temp agency and tell her to whistle while she works. I've been burned like that already and I'm no grown ass adult's babysitter.

But by the same stroke, I'm hoping to get all my shit organized so I can start my family. I don't want to have to take care of my nieces. I just kind of find myself hoping I've gotten enough help that I can avoid merely reenacting the fucked up shit my mother put me through.

One of the things my mother told me the other day was that I'm a sex-crazed demon bitch. I have no idea what that means. It's not like I'm bringing home a new guy every week or every day and eating his brains when I'm done with him..... She accused me of raping my sister, which I don't fucking understand. She used to tell me back in high school, one of my "little friends" told her I did something, and I knew she was lying, because my mom has always been reclusive, and if I'd really done something, no one I knew in high school would've gone out of their fucking way to confide in my mother. Recently the fucked up thing that I did has become rape, so now without question I know she's talking from her rubber room at the loony bin. That guy we've been helping get to work suggested delusions of grandeur when I vented that my mother had basically pretended that even though I have three completed semesters of college, and I'm pretty well on track to a job that pays up to eighteen dollars an hour, that she is still smarter than me. I figured as much when I was in high school panicking about getting my degree so that I could get down on her level about who's smarter with more education. I could have like five doctorate degrees and she would still be smarter than me. Then last night she said something about "college education people" being really sensitive? She was talking about how her feelings were hurt, even though she was the one being cruel with her words. Obviously if she must be having delusions about being one of those mothers everyone confides in.

The really fucked up thing. My little brother texted me last night to tell me that from his perspective, I'm our mother's favorite target. I would personally say my first sister is the rotten apple of our mother's eye. I'm just the second worst at holding my tongue. The younger two watched the older two, in our inability to let our mother's stupidity go unchecked, let the injustice go without calling it out. That's how the younger two escaped noticed until the older two left. I think in a fucked up way, that's how my sister and I protected our younger sister and brother without realizing.

But I guess it would be fair to say that I'm her favorite throttling practice: I hit puberty kind of early I think, kind of later in fourth grade, about spring. My highly conservative mother threatened very seriously, very cruelly, to bring my bra to school and show everyone.

I've heard other girls received this treatment from their mothers, and I don't know how to convey like, my mother might have been having fun with me, but it was in her cruel, evil fucked up way, and she didn't want me to believe she was less than serious or just trying to make a point. If I have a daughter, I fucking swear to god, no one is forcing her into a bra. I want to be very forthright with my child, no matter their gender, but I think for girls, it's incredibly important to tell them, for example, I don't believe a bra is a necessary garment and I don't believe shaving is something you should feel pressured into. But also there are men out there who will look at you as they would look at livestock, they will not see you as an equal being with equal thoughts and will and rights.

The next big, sick thing that my mother did: The summer between middle and high school, money was tight as usual, and I knew there would be things I would need for school, and I wanted to get a job and have money so I could do things like go out with friends. There weren't jobs in the village--you either had to have family friends or be sixteen or eighteen. At fourteen, I was neither of those things, so I worked a job with my dad. He's done mostly factory, which you have to be eighteen to do, but that summer was a rare opportunity. He was working at a dry cleaner and I was able to get hired there. That's when I guess I really noticed my mom was viewing me as a sexual rival. Like I'm not fucking around. It made me incredibly uncomfortable--she would say stuff about me sitting in the front seat, she would make a big deal about people somehow mistaking me for my dad's concubine or whatever the fuck. She would tell me not to have my tits out in front of my brother, that I would make him gay or some fucked up shit. By "having my tits out", she was basically banning me from running around without a bra on, wearing low-cut or loose-collared shirts. With my mother making me very uncomfortable in my body, I usually just wore plain, crew-neck t-shirts, more often than not, very baggy. Sure, my brother's gay, but science is pretty sure what happened to him in the womb made him gay, not having three rather overbearing sisters. I dress however the fuck I want, scoop-necks, bright colors, sweatpants, leggings, bra, no bra, five sweaters, thin flimsy t-shirts, jeans. I don't give a shit who's judging me. I don't have time for your negative opinion. I'm an adult. I can take care of myself, and if I wanted to, I could take care of a kid. My brother's gay, I'm genderqueer. I'm pretty sure my younger sister is ace. Who fucking cares!

But my creepy mother still treats me like I'm a sexual rival and I'm getting between her relationship with my father.

Okay seriously??? The man contributed fifty percent of my genetic makeup. He's contributed like ninety percent of my upbringing. Sometimes I may have serious dd/lg fantasies, but my own father is like, the last man on earth to feature in them.

The most recent sick thing she's done is to accuse me of raping my sister.

A couple times, when we first moved to the apartments where my brother grew up, my sister was scared or didn't want to sleep alone, so she would ask to sleep with me. I would acquiesce, turn over, and go straight back to sleep. That was, for me, part of being the oldest: Being the best comfort object in the world.

The next time my sister and I slept on a bed together was in a seriously dumpy motel room, feet to heads under separate bedding. The worst thing that happened to her in that bed, sleeping beside me, was that she found my lost needles for me. If I needed to masturbate, it usually had absolutely nothing to do with my siblings, and it often happened in the bath or shower.

What I can't fucking wrap my head around is why I'm evil for trying to have a more open dialogue with my family regarding sex and sexuality. I can't help that she's a closed-minded idiot conservative who hardly has any more education than a couple cumulative weeks of community college (I'm not trying to shit on community college; she just likes to act like she's got some really important education). I also can't help whatever I might've done or said as a very young child.