#but then also because dream logic we were in high school

[yasminhananis]

just some up from the weirdest dream?????

[oakstar519]

hey did i tell you guys one of you was in my dream last night

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

OMG RAVEN YOU’RE INTO EVER AFTER HIGH? I love it but can’t talk about it bc none of my friends have seen it 😭 I wish it was talked about more, especially with how deep their lore runs. I love EAH’s dynamics with the complexities of destiny. If twst followed the same logic as eah’s world it would be so interesting. How would you feel if the worlds were to mesh together and how it would work? You can interpret that in any way you want; the characters meeting or twst being bound to the same rules and societal expectations of eah, or whatnot.

Also who’s your favorite eah character compared to your favorite twst character (Leona)?Jade, right?

And have you read the eah books? I haven’t, but I’m going to try to sometime!

Eah alt account when?

I'm still salty that the Monster High x Ever After High crossover movie never saw the light of day-- Part of the reason why I don't like Disney (I mean the faceless corpo, not all Disney products) is because they have such a strong association with fairy tales that it pushes other interpretations out of the market or it leads to people assuming Disney "owns" those fairy tales. Ever After High's lore and themes run so much deeper than most other fairy tale reimaginings I've seen (and I've seen a lot). It's such a shame it doesn't get the respect and recognition it deserves even though EAH is the one out here challenging the status quo whereas modern Disney is content with mediocrity that appeals to the masses.

I think EAH and TWST, at their cores, share similar ideas so combining them would work well. Friendship, self-identity, defining your own future, questioning what "good" and "evil" truly are... It's all there. I'd imagine that if Twisted Wonderland (or at least NRC) followed the same rules as EAH, then everyone would be descendants of their Disney counterparts. (This is actually a common misperception of what TWST was to new fans; people mistakenly believe the TWST characters are children of the classic Disney villains. This has never been canon.) Unfortunately, I'd have to take away the Disney villains being twisted to be "good" guys in Twisted Wonderland's world in order for this to work by EAH rules, so... There's that to consider. This, in turn, can result in the student body splitting into Royals (pro-following one's destiny) and Rebels (anti-following one's destiny). Perhaps RSA and NRC could be one school in this AU...? Just so we have a mix of "good" and "evil" descended children in the same vicinity as one another. A must-have are the constantly bickering Narrators!! It's only really when Yuu shows up that the majority opinion starts to shift. Maybe then Crowley becomes concerned with students rising up and fighting back against the system that relies on them being complacent to keep the cycle of stories going. I've seen some readings of EAH which theorize that Royals guaranteed a happy ending is a stand-in for privilege, and that interpretation leads into very interesting conflicts when we also consider that magic in Twisted Wonderland is a privilege afforded to few.

To cover just the dorm leaders (because covering all the TWST characters would make this post way longer), I definitely see Riddle, Kalim, Idia, and Malleus as Royals and Leona, Azul, and Vil as Rebels. Here's my thought process:

Riddle is pretty self-explanatory. He comes from a background where he's used to being told what to do by his mother and so he also heavily relies on her strict, unyielding teachings to play by the book when he goes out there in the real world. Riddle is inflexible and hesitant to go against the grain--and, more importantly, he fully believes that following the rules will lead to his happiness... that doing as his fairy tale ordains will lead to a happy ending. What happens to the Queen of Hearts is dubious in the end since it's framed as Alice's dream, so I think that vagueness gives Riddle hope that by behaving himself, he'll earn the happiness he desires.

Leona is a Rebel, and not just because that's the aesthetic of his dorm. Being that he is highly intelligent and demonstrates a lot of foresight, he'd be aware of what future is in store for him and aggressively fighting against that. It would make him more desperate than ever to prove his worth, because not only does everyone see his powers as terrifying, but they also see him as a future brother murderer and dictator that will bleed the land dry of resources. It'd make the situation with his family even more strained than it already is, not to mention the extra jealousy he must feel toward Cheka, who is still too young to understand what's going to happen later.

Azul is someone who acts like a Royal but is actually a Rebel. He acts polite and like he plays by the rules, but clearly he doesn't behind the scenes. I see Azul as the kind of Rebel akin to Duchess Swan... as in, he believes he can steal away someone else's destiny for himself. Azul would constantly be looking for loopholes to save himself. He's put way too much stock into becoming a better, stronger person and he'd want to defend this new life he has made for himself. His obsession with protecting his contracts could translate well here.

Kalim is a Royal because he's mega rich and has been sheltered from the concept of bad things that happen to normal people; he has nothing to worry about. It also helps that Kalim is twisted from a character that doesn't meet a bad ending. I think he'd be aware of Jami's doomed destiny, but Kalim is so ignorant that he thinks it'll just be fine and it'll work itself out. Part of his growth could be being forced to reckon with the reality that Jamil is suffering under the legacy assigned to him and accepting the role that he plays in that by not acting.

Idia is a Royal--or at least pre-book 6 Idia is. He's a very pessimistic guy and repeatedly expresses hopelessness about the future, bemoaning the curse he and his family have to bear. Idia doesn't want to try to fight his fate, he's already accepted that it will happen and so closes himself off from others to save himself that heartbreak. Post-book 6 Idia will have swapped over to the Rebel side thanks to Ortho reviving the hope in him.

Vil is a Rebel simply for the fact that he fights social conventions. He's already out here shattering gender roles, but finds it much harder to breach that expectation that villains are just villains and nothing more. Vil keeps getting rejected at every turn, told that it's impossible to rewrite his story, that his frustrations are the natural result of jealousy and an ugly heart that festers in side of him. He steels himself to prove that notion wrong, working himself to the bone to get up on that stage and stay on it, waiting to be lavished with praise that he truly is the fairest one of all. I feel this would be so fascinating for Vil's own arc about self acceptance; maybe he wears himself down emotionally because he HAS to basically be perfect due to his job but also denies himself normal feelings like anger and jealousy because confessing that you have such "ugly" feelings only validates that you're shallow just like the stories say you will be.

Malleus is a tough one, but I settled for Royal in the end. Maleficent is doomed to be slain by a sword, right? So am I saying that THE Malleus Draconia, who is infamously arrogant about his magical abilities, would lie down and take a stab like that? Of course not! However, I do think that Malleus is initially someone who values tradition and living up to noblesse oblige. As the future ruler of a nation, people's stories are relying on him to play his expected role out, which he'd be fully cognizant of. I also think Malleus would be afforded the luxury of not having to face his destiny as soon as his peers are due to his long life span. This is in part because the person destined to slay him doesn't come into his life for literally hundreds of years. Then when book 7 arrives, Malleus has to deal with his loved ones leaving and/or betraying him as well as the realization that this is his destiny: dying alone and unloved. That'd just break him.

ahdbiqwdbqwli I COULD TALK ABOUT THIS AU FOR FOREVER BUT I'LL CUT IT SHORT OR ELSE I'LL NEVER SHUT UP 😭

EAH has so many good characters and interesting storylines, it's hard for me to pick a favorite! I of course love Apple and Raven's dilemmas, but I feel like it's cheating to pick one of them as my favorite. The whole Wonderland gang is also fantastic... I'm a sucker for their aesthetic, but they're so fun and silly in general. Kitty, Lizzie, and especially Madeline are 👌

Mmm, when I think long and hard about it, I think my favorite EAH character has to be Briar Beauty, daughter of Sleeping Beauty. Firstly, I love all the pink, roses, and bramble in her design. Secondly, I love the layers to why she is the way she is. Briar's a party girl not because "lmao, wouldn't that be a funny haha subversion of Sleeping Beauty" but because she wants to live life up before she falls asleep for 100 years and literally loses all her friends and family to the natural passage of time. That's seriously so smart and such an inventive way to think about the trauma a descendant of Sleeping Beauty might have. Seeing Briar transition from one of Apple's besties and biggest supporters to an outright rebel is satisfying as heck. (Gotta take a moment to shout out this classic moment :3)

I don't know if I would compare Briar to Jade since they're entirely different characters. However, looking at the source material, I'm actually surprised I like Briar as much as I do since I have never cared for the story of Sleeping Beauty. A part of me finds this ironic since Malleus harbors a similar fear as Briar (losing loved ones) yet I see Malleus's desire as way more selfish and self-serving than Briar's. I believe that's because Briar doesn't have the same arrogance as Malleus, so I'm more forgiving with her. EAH's actual equivalent to Malleus is Faybelle, daughter of the Dark Fairy, but I don't like her as much as I do Briar (hence why I'm comparing Malleus and Briar, not Malleus and Faybelle).

I haven't read the EAH books but I want to one day! I'd prefer to borrow them since I don't have enough space in my room for more physical books, so as soon as I find copies at a library or something...

This blog has kind of become a place where I occasionally talk about my other interests, generally as it relates to TWST, my main interest. I'd like to keep it like this since managing multiple blogs can be so draining. It already takes quite a bit of time to regularly write responses to asks just on one blog!

[keehomania]

tempted (유혹) — park jimin (박지민)

✧.* 18+

love, in its purest form, was an ethereal dance between two souls that transcended the physical realm. it was the whispered secret shared between the stars and the moon, the silent promise that echoed in the heartbeats of those destined to find one another. soulmates were not just lovers but mirrors reflecting the deepest parts of ourselves—our hopes, fears, dreams, and shadows. they were the gentle caress in the quiet moments, the unwavering support in times of turmoil, and the spark that ignited the fire within us to be more, to feel more, to live more.

the bond between soulmates was an intricate tapestry woven with threads of fate, time, and serendipity. each thread represented a moment, a memory, a shared breath that brought them closer together, intertwining their lives in ways that defied logic and reason. it was a connection felt in the marrow of one's bones, a magnetic pull that drew two individuals together despite the miles, the years, the obstacles that lay between them.

but as we looked closer, we began to see the delicate, almost fragile nature of this connection. love, we realized, was a mere feeling—a powerful, all-consuming emotion, yet still a feeling. it was something that existed in the softest corners of our hearts, in the whispered three words, and the stolen glances, and yet it was fleeting, ephemeral. it was an entity that could lift us to the heavens one moment and leave us stranded in the abyss the next. love was something existent yet nonexistent, a paradox that defined the human experience.

in the end, love was a feeling—nothing more, nothing less. it was a sensation that, while real and profound, was also transient, capable of fading away like the morning mist. love was, and always would be, a testament to the beauty and fragility of human connection.

but what good did that do, when you didn't believe in it? you watched your parents' marriage crumble, each piece of their once-shared life falling apart like a house of cards in a storm. the warmth that had once filled your home turned cold, replaced by silence and resentment. you spent most of your life blaming your mother, seeing her as the catalyst for the disintegration of the love you once knew. her actions, her decisions, her words—all seemed to be the threads unraveling the fabric of your family.

yet, as time went on, you began to see the truth more clearly. in the end, it took two to tango. your father was not without fault; his silence, his absence, his own choices played just as significant a role. the love that once seemed unbreakable had been weakened by both their hands, by misunderstandings and unmet needs, by the slow erosion of patience and kindness. it was a dance they both had learned to stumble through, each step further away from harmony.

the corridors of your new school stretched before you like a labyrinth of polished floors and pristine walls, echoing with the muted whispers of privilege. this high-end, private institution was a realm of immaculate uniforms and designer handbags, a place where status was measured not just by wealth but by the veneer of propriety. you had the fortune to attend this school because of your mother's money, a privilege that came with its own set of burdens. with more money came higher prices, not just in currency but in reputation and expectation.

you had transferred there, seeking refuge from the torment that had plagued your previous school. the memories of harassment lingered like shadows in your mind. the taunts of those girls echoed in your ears, their voices dripping with cruelty. “look at her, the daughter of a hostess. like mother, like daughter, huh?” their words were knives, each one aimed to cut deeper than the last. you remembered the sting of cold water as your head was dunked in the sink, the bitter taste of humiliation as you struggled to breathe. your locker had been defaced with vile words—“slut,” “whore,” “like mother like daughter”—each insult scrawled in angry letters. and the final blow, the moment that broke your resolve, was when your lunch was dumped on you in the cafeteria, laughter ringing in your ears as you stood there, drenched in shame.

the move had been meant to be a fresh start, a chance to escape the ghosts of your past. but even here, the whispers never ceased. as you walked down the halls, you could hear them, soft and insidious, just out of reach. your friend, walked beside you, her presence a comforting anchor in the sea of judgment. “ignore them,” she would say, her voice steady. “most of their families are involved in worse things.” you nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “i’ll be fine,” you told her, even as the whispers brushed against your skin like a cold breeze.

jisoo’s eyes flickered to the designer handbag slung over your shoulder. “nice bag,” she complimented, a genuine smile lighting up her face. “thanks,” you replied, your smile small but sincere.

she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “you know, money isn’t forever. you should consider getting engaged soon.” you shook your head, the idea almost laughable. “no way. i don’t believe in love. it doesn’t exist.”

jisoo raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in her eye. “duh. why do you think people get married for money?” the absurdity of it all brought laughter to your lips, a rare sound in the cold halls of this school. the two of you laughed together, a moment of genuine connection amidst the façade. you walked down the halls side by side, her presence a reminder that even in the midst of whispers and judgment, there were still moments of light to hold onto.

jimin stood basking in the midday sun, the golden rays highlighting the flawless contours of his face. he was surrounded by his friends, an entourage of privileged and spoiled teenagers who reveled in their own opulence. among them was his girlfriend and the undisputed queen of their circle. sua thrived on attention, money, and the luxuries that her wealth afforded her. her laugh was a sharp, crystalline sound, slicing through the air as she regaled her audience with yet another tale of her extravagant exploits.

it was then that you walked by, your presence commanding a quiet elegance that contrasted starkly with the raucous group. the sunlight caressed your features, illuminating your every step with a radiance that caught jimin's eye. he watched you, his gaze unyielding, captivated by the sight of you moving through the world with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly. “who’s that?” one of his friends asked, breaking the spell as his curious eyes followed jimin’s line of sight.

sua’s eyes narrowed as she traced jimin’s unwavering gaze. her expression faltered, and a wave of unease washed over her. the pit of her stomach dropped as she laid eyes on you. scoffing, she tried to mask her discomfort with disdain. “you must be living under a rock if you don’t know who that is.” her words only heightened the tension among the group. jimin’s friend looked genuinely puzzled. “who?”

with a withering look, she introduced your name, her tone dripping with condescension. “that’s the daughter of the hostess club owner. her mother used to work there too.” disbelief rippled through the group. whispers spread like wildfire, but jimin’s gaze remained locked on you, unblinking, as if you were the only person in the world. “you’re serious?” his friend’s voice was incredulous.

sua continued, her voice louder now, tinged with a cruel satisfaction. “yeah, her mother owned an underground hostess club. it was part of poseidon hotel until it got shut down. then her husband divorced her.” the shock among their friends was palpable. “what’s she doing here, then?”

she scoffed, her eyes glinting with malicious glee. “she must’ve thought this school was a safe haven.” she paused, a sneer curling her lips. “but she’s dead wrong.”

jimin barely registered a word she said. his focus was entirely on you, a smile slowly forming on his lips. he watched you as you walked, each step you took reinforcing his fascination. in that moment, you were the epitome of resilience and grace, a stark contrast to the superficiality surrounding him. and as the whispers and judgments swirled around him, he found himself more drawn to you than ever, intrigued by the story that lay beneath your serene exterior.

as you walked through the sunlit halls, a sense of calm washed over you despite the whispers and sideways glances. you were accustomed to the stares, the judgment, the endless cycle of whispers that followed you like a shadow. yet, as you moved forward, you felt a pair of eyes on you that seemed different—intense, unwavering.

you turned your head slightly and your eyes met his. jimin’s gaze was piercing, a curious mix of intrigue and admiration. his presence was magnetic, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background. the noise, the whispers, the world—it all seemed to vanish as you locked eyes with him. “jisoo, who is that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

she glanced in the direction you were looking and scoffed, her disdain evident. “that’s jimin. son of park and co.,” she said, her tone dripping with disbelief. “he’s obnoxious, selfish, and a complete pain in the ass. not to mention, he’s dating kang sua. they’re both equally corrupt—a match made in heaven.” you glanced back at him, who hadn’t taken his eyes off you. his friends, taehyung and jaebum, were laughing and joking around him, their behavior loud and almost childlike. jisoo noticed the way your gaze lingered on jimin and sighed.

“look,” she said, her voice firm, “keep your distance from him. his type is nothing but trouble.” the bell rang, signaling the end of your brief moment of curiosity. she tugged gently at your arm, her voice softening. “come on, it’s time for class.”

you followed her, your thoughts lingering on jimin’s gaze and the strange connection you felt in that brief moment. the halls were bustling with students heading to their next classes, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying the encounter over and over. jisoo kept talking, her voice a steady stream of background noise as she led you through the corridors. “trust me, you don’t want to get involved with him or his friends. they’re all bad news.”

you nodded absently, but the memory of his eyes—intense and unwavering—remained with you. as you took your seat in the classroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something far more complex and intertwined than you could have ever anticipated.

class began, and the room settled into a hush as the professor walked to the front and began writing on the board. her chalk traced out a single word in elegant, flowing script. love. the silence deepened as she turned to face the class, her expression thoughtful. “today, we’ll discuss the principle of love,” she announced, her voice carrying a gentle authority. “i want to hear your opinions, your experiences, your definitions. love is complex, multifaceted, and personal. let’s start with you, kang sua.”

sua straightened in her seat, her demeanor poised and confident. “love conquers all,” she declared, her voice smooth and rehearsed. “it’s the most powerful force in the world. when you truly love someone, you can overcome any obstacle together.” the professor nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “thank you, sua. that’s a very traditional perspective.” she turned to another student. “jung jisoo, how about you?”

she grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “love is just a contract. there should be money involved to make it worthwhile,” she quipped, earning a ripple of laughter from the class. the professor chuckled, shaking her head slightly. “always the pragmatist, jisoo. alright, park jimin, what’s your take on love?”

his gaze was still fixed on you, his eyes unreadable. “love is cruel, blind, and unexpected,” he said, his voice steady and low. “especially at first sight.” sua scoffed next to him, her irritation evident, but he didn’t waver, his eyes never leaving yours. the professor’s eyes followed jimin’s gaze to you, and she smiled warmly. “and what about our new student? would you like to share your thoughts on love?”

you felt a dozen pairs of eyes on you as you stood up, but you kept your composure. “love is just an illusion,” you began, your voice soft but clear. “it’s a beautiful, intricate mirage that we chase, believing it will fulfill us. but in the end, it’s fleeting and fragile, existing only as long as we believe in it. it's precisely why we shouldn't believe in it.” the room was silent for a moment, absorbing your words. the professor nodded, her eyes thoughtful. “thank you. such a variety of perspectives. love truly is a complex subject.”

as you took your seat, you turned slightly and locked eyes with jimin. his expression softened, and he offered you a sweet smile that seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words. next to him, sua’s glare was sharp and unyielding, her eyes filled with a mix of jealousy and disdain. the rest of the class passed in a blur, your thoughts tangled with the exchange of ideas and the intensity of jimin’s gaze. the whispers and judgments seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a new, inexplicable connection that left you feeling both intrigued and wary.

the bell rang, its sharp chime echoing through the classroom. students began to gather their belongings, the hum of conversation rising as they prepared to exit. you stood up, feeling the weight of their lingering gazes, and gathered your books. as you moved towards the door, you caught sight of sua stopping jimin, her manicured hand lightly gripping his arm.

“jimin, wait,” she said, her voice smooth but edged with irritation. he paused, turning to face her. she adjusted the collar of his shirt, her eyes narrowing as she spoke. “you seemed to be lost in thought at the sight of her,” she remarked, her glare piercing. “is she that pretty?”

he shook his head slightly, his expression guarded. “it’s not that,” he replied, his voice calm. her lips curled into a thin smile. “a shame, because i had a proposal for you.”

his curiosity was piqued. “what is it?”

sua tilted her head, her eyes never leaving his. “do you love me?” she asked, her tone deceptively sweet. his gaze softened. “of course, i do.”

she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “then if you love me, you’ll do me this favor.” his brows furrowed. “what do you want?”

her eyes flickered with a dangerous gleam. “the hostess’s daughter seemed to have a poor outlook on love,” she began, her words dripping with malice. “tempt her, make her feel loved.” jimin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “are you serious?”

her smile grew colder. “tempt her, and break her down even more,” she continued, her voice unwavering. “only if you love me.”

jimin hesitated, his gaze searching her face. “why do you hate her so much?” he asked quietly. her expression darkened, her eyes briefly clouded with an emotion she quickly masked. “don’t worry about it,” she replied, her tone dismissive. “i just need to know whose side you’re on.”

his jaw tightened, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling within him. after a moment, he nodded. “alright, sua. i’ll do my best.” her smile returned, her grip on his arm loosening. “good,” she said, satisfaction evident in her voice. “that’s all i needed to hear.”

as they walked out of the classroom together, you watched them, unaware of the twisted plan unfolding. jimin’s eyes met yours one last time, his expression unreadable, while sua’s glare remained cold and calculating. the weight of the coming days hung heavily in the air, the delicate balance of your new life poised on the edge of a precipice.

as you walked towards the bathroom, the bustling noise of the school faded behind you. the bathroom was a surprising oasis of cleanliness and elegance, its marble countertops and polished fixtures starkly contrasting with the chaos you had just left. you approached the mirror, touching up your makeup with practiced precision, the brush of lipstick creating a vivid red against your lips.

the sound of heels clicking on the tiled floor interrupted your solitude. you glanced up in the reflection and saw sua’s cold, piercing gaze meeting yours. she walked with deliberate steps to the sink beside yours, her movements graceful and deliberate. she pulled out a tube of lipstick from her designer makeup set and began applying it with the same meticulous care you had shown moments before.

her eyes flickered to you, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “dior?” she said, her tone dripping with condescension. “expensive lipstick. seems like you have taste.” you met her gaze in the mirror, lifting an eyebrow. “yeah, seems like you do too,” you replied, nodding towards her own luxurious makeup set.

for a brief moment, her expression softened, and she gave you a polite nod. “thank you,” she said, the hint of warmth in her voice seeming almost genuine. but her demeanor changed abruptly, the warmth vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. “only mine wasn’t bought with the money of a whore,” she added, her voice laced with venom. “can you believe it?”

without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked out, her heels clicking sharply as she disappeared down the hallway. you stood frozen, the sting of her words lingering as you stared at your reflection, struggling to process the encounter. as you made your way towards your locker, trying to shake off the shock, you heard a new voice call out behind you. “ignore her. she isn’t worth it.”

you turned to find jimin approaching, a smile on his face that seemed almost too genuine. you raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident in your gaze. “that’s not a nice thing to say about your girlfriend.” his smile widened, but there was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “she isn’t my girlfriend, can you believe it?” he said, his voice carrying an edge of amusement.

you stared at him, disbelief etched on your face. “she isn’t?” jimin shook his head. “no, she was nothing more than a friend. nothing more,” he reiterated, his tone casual but loaded with meaning.

you nodded slowly, taking in the revelation. the weight of his words settled over you, but before you could respond, he continued. “i heard your speech in class. isn’t that a bit pessimistic of you?” you scoffed, shaking your head slightly. “there’s a difference between pessimism and realism,” you said, your voice carrying an edge of finality. with that, you turned on your heel and walked away, your thoughts swirling with the day’s events. he watched you leave, his smile fading into a thoughtful expression. the challenge of seducing you, he realized, was more complex than he had anticipated.

as you navigated the bustling halls and classrooms of your new school, jimin's presence remained a constant, subtle influence. each encounter seemed to unravel new layers of his enigmatic demeanor. one afternoon, you dropped your pencil as you were collecting your things from your desk. jimin, who had been seated nearby, swiftly picked it up and extended it towards you with a polite smile.

“you dropped this,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a glint of genuine warmth. “thank you,” you replied, accepting the pencil. the gesture, though small, felt surprisingly considerate.

a few days later, you were walking through the school courtyard when jimin approached you. his gaze lingered on your hair, which had been styled into soft waves that day. “your hair looks great today,” he said casually, his voice smooth and appreciative. “it suits you.” you glanced at him, taken aback by the compliment. “thanks,” you said, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

later that week, as you were struggling with a particularly heavy door while juggling your books, he appeared beside you, effortlessly holding the door open. “need some help?” he asked, his tone light but his gaze steady. you nodded, murmuring a grateful “yes, please,” as you passed through the door. he held it open until you were safely through, his smile never wavering. “no problem,” he said, his tone as warm as his smile.

despite his seemingly small acts of chivalry, you remained cautious, unsure of his true intentions. as the sun began to set, you walked home with jisoo by your side. the day’s interactions with jimin weighed heavily on your mind. jisoo turned to you with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity. “i can’t believe he was—so nice to you,” she said, her brows furrowing. “and he said he isn’t dating sua?”

you nodded, still processing the events. “yeah, he told me he wasn’t dating her. it was surprising.” she shook her head, her skepticism evident. “i swear i saw them holding hands. maybe i was wrong. it’s hard to keep track of everyone’s alliances here.”

as you neared your home, the familiar, somewhat shabby house came into view. jisoo practically burst through the door, greeting your mother with a burst of enthusiasm. “hi, mrs. (l/n)! it’s so good to see you!” your mother looked up from her work, her expression softening slightly as she took in jisoo’s exuberance. “at least one of you is happy to see me,” she remarked, her voice carrying a hint of wistfulness.

you forced a smile, though the tension between you and your mother still lingered beneath the surface. her activities had tainted the perception others had of you, casting a long shadow over your life. though you had ceased to resent her, the scars of the past remained. your mother turned to jisoo, her demeanor brightening. “are you staying the night?”

she nodded enthusiastically, her smile radiant. “yes, i am. i’ll help with lunch, too.” as she hugged you warmly, you couldn’t help but appreciate her presence. her support was a comforting constant in the whirlwind of your new life. the door closed behind you, the evening settling into a quiet rhythm of familiarity and routine, punctuated by the soft, reassuring hum of home.

the aroma of homemade dishes filled the kitchen as you, jisoo, and your mother gathered around the dining table. the meal was a comforting array of flavors, a stark contrast to the coldness of the school environment. laughter and the clinking of cutlery provided a soothing background to the conversation.

jisoo broke the comfortable silence, in a lively manner. “oh, by the way, i almost forgot to tell you,” she began, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she turned to your mother. “your daughter has a not-so-secret admirer.”

you shot her a warning glance, your cheeks flushing slightly. “knock it off,” you warned, trying to downplay the remark. your mother, who had been quietly enjoying her meal, looked up with an intrigued expression. “really?” she asked, her tone a mixture of curiosity and surprise. “who is it?”

you shrugged, attempting to brush off the topic. “it’s nobody important. he was just being nice.” your mother’s eyes narrowed slightly, her interest clearly piqued. “being nice is more than enough given the reputation our family has. who is it?”

jisoo chimed in before you could intervene. “it’s park jimin, the son of park and co.” at the mention of the name, your mother’s expression shifted noticeably. her eyes widened slightly, and a fleeting look of discomfort crossed her face. “is that true?” she asked, her voice laced with apprehension.

you shook your head, feeling a pang of frustration as you shot jisoo a stern glare. “he’s just being nice, mom. nothing more.” your mother’s expression remained tense, and she murmured, almost to herself, “let’s hope that’s all it is.” you chose not to press the issue further, sensing that there was more to her reaction than she was willing to share. the conversation veered back to more mundane topics, but the earlier unease lingered in the air.

as the meal continued, your phone buzzed on the table, drawing your attention. you glanced at the screen and saw a message from an unknown number. the text was brief, its content ambiguous: “you looked gorgeous today.” your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a rush of curiosity mixed with apprehension. the timing was too coincidental, given the conversation you’d just had. you stared at the message for a moment, trying to process the sudden shift in your day.

jisoo noticed your distraction and leaned in, her curiosity evident. “who’s that?” you hesitated before replying, “it’s just someone from school.” you kept your tone casual, though the tension of the moment was hard to ignore. your mother looked at you with a mixture of concern and curiosity, but she didn’t press further. the conversation resumed, but the atmosphere had changed subtly. the content of the message weighed on your mind, leaving you to ponder.

as the evening settled into a calm hush, you retreated to your room, a sanctuary of tranquility amidst the day's turmoil. the room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting gentle shadows on the walls. jisoo, lounging comfortably on your bed, was indulging in a face mask, her eyes peeking out from behind the mask’s fabric.

you sat at your desk, absorbed in the glow of your laptop screen, fingers poised over the keyboard. the message from jimin lingered in your mind, and you began typing a reply, seeking clarity. “how did you get my number?” you inquired, your fingers hesitating slightly as you considered the implications of his response.

from her spot on the bed, jisoo watched you intently, her curiosity barely contained. “so, who’s the mysterious texter?” she asked, her voice muffled by the mask. you sighed, glancing at her. “it’s jimin. somehow, he managed to get my number.”

her eyes widened in surprise, and she adjusted her face mask, which had slipped askew. “how'd he get your number? do you have any idea?” you shook your head. “that’s what i’m trying to figure out.”

the reply from jimin arrived almost immediately. the message was as enigmatic as ever: “a gentleman never reveals his tricks.” you chuckled softly at the message, finding a hint of amusement in his playful secrecy. jisoo, intrigued, leaned closer. “did he reply?”

you nodded, reading out his words. “he said, ‘a gentleman never reveals his tricks.’” her eyebrows shot up, her expression a mix of disbelief and concern. “what a psycho. what if he’s watching us right now?”

you laughed lightly, shaking your head. “lay off the slasher movies. i’m sure he’s not lurking around.” you climbed into bed next to her, feeling the comfort of her presence.

her face was a mask of worry, despite the relaxation of the evening. “i’m serious,” she said, her voice earnest. “you should really avoid people like him. they’re trouble.” you turned on your side to face her, the warmth of the room contrasting with the tension of your conversation. “there’s something about him that draws me in,” you admitted, your voice soft but resolute.

she scoffed, her expression both teasing and concerned. “it’s just hormones. you’re probably caught up in the excitement of it all. maybe you should consider visiting a priest or something.” you gave her a playful shove, though her words resonated with a kernel of truth. “oh, come on. it’s not that serious.” despite the light-hearted banter, a part of you recognized the challenge of avoiding someone like jimin. his presence, enigmatic and alluring, had already begun to weave itself into the fabric of your daily life, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the pull he exerted on you.

the morning sun cast a golden glow over the school's fields as students gathered for their physical education class. the crisp air carried with it a sense of anticipation and a touch of chill. you walked alongside jisoo, who was grumbling with an exaggerated sigh. “running around at eight in the morning is basically child slavery,” she complained, her voice dripping with melodrama.

you chuckled, finding amusement in her theatrics. “use that for your college essay. sounds like a hit.” she shot you a playful glare before returning to her grumbling. “and these skirts are way too short for this kind of weather. i can practically feel my ovaries freezing.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “you should sell them while they’re frozen.” as you approached the equipment, your gaze fell upon jimin. he stood on the court in a crisp white shirt and sweatpants, the sunlight highlighting the confident smile on his lips as he noticed you. you met his gaze with a smile of your own, but jisoo’s whining pulled you back to the present. “that’s not a bad idea,” she muttered as you both moved to grab the tennis rackets.

the field was soon filled with the rhythmic thwack of tennis balls and the shuffling of sneakers against the ground. you and jisoo took your positions, the coach calling out encouragements and praise as you warmed up, suggesting you to join the team. you excelled at tennis, each stroke precise and powerful, as though the sport was second nature to you. the coach’s praise was a testament to your skill, and he urged you to consider joining the team. jisoo, panting slightly, looked at you with a mix of admiration and exhaustion. “you should definitely do it,” she encouraged, her voice earnest.

before you could offer her help, a voice interrupted your concentration. you turned to see jimin standing nearby, his eyes gleaming with a challenge. “star player,” he called out, “how about you play against me?” surprise flickered across your face, but you nodded, accepting the challenge. the students gathered around, their murmurs and cheers creating a buzz of excitement in the air. the court became a stage, with the intensity of the match drawing everyone’s attention.

the game began, and you and jimin faced each other across the net. his movements were fluid and graceful, but there was a distinct edge to his play—a blend of skill and a hint of showmanship. each serve he delivered was precise, each return a test of your agility and strategy. you matched him stroke for stroke, your rackets slicing through the air with practiced ease. his eyes never left you as the match progressed. he adapted to your style, countering your moves with surprising finesse. the rally between you was a dance of athleticism and precision, the sound of the ball against the racket a rhythmic accompaniment to the growing tension. sweat glistened on both your foreheads as the game pushed both of you to your limits.

in a final, exhilarating exchange, you executed a perfect cross-court shot that jimin couldn’t quite reach. the ball landed just inside the boundary, and the whistle blew, signaling the end of the match. the crowd erupted into applause, their cheers blending into a single, enthusiastic roar.

he approached you, his smile genuine and admiring. “congrats,” he said, his voice warm. “you really are the star player.” you met his gaze, smiling in return. “you’re the star opponent.”

jisoo, standing beside you, couldn’t resist a final jab. “looks like he finally found something he sucks at,” she scoffed, her tone playful. he laughed, the sound light and carefree. “i’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he joined his friends.

you and jisoo sat in the bustling cafeteria, the noise of lunchtime chatter surrounding you. as you indulged in your lunch, you both found yourselves engrossed in a seemingly pointless debate. “so, if you could choose between never having to sleep again or never needing to eat again, which would you pick?” she asked, her tone light and her gaze almost empty-headed.

you considered it for a moment before responding, “definitely never needing to eat again. imagine all the time you’d save.” she laughed, shaking her head. “think of all the delicious food you’d miss out on. i’d choose sleep, no contest.”

as you continued your discussion, sua and her entourage swept into the cafeteria, their presence commanding attention. her eyes narrowed when she spotted you, a smirk spreading across her lips. she strode over with an air of practiced arrogance, her friends trailing behind. without a word, she plopped down across from you, her eyes glinting with a mixture of challenge and disdain. jisoo, clearly unimpressed, looked up from her meal. “what do you want?”

her smile widened, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “up to your friend. is bottle service included?” the cafeteria buzzed with murmurs and sidelong glances, the scene quickly drawing attention. you raised an eyebrow, matching her tone with a taunting edge. “how about a lap dance? is that enough?”

her expression darkened, her eyes flashing with irritation. “you seem cheap enough for one,” she snapped. with a sudden, aggressive motion, she pushed your tray onto your lap, sending your food tumbling onto your clothes. the sudden mess caused a gasp to ripple through the nearby tables. jisoo’s face turned pale with anger. “you must be out of your mind,” she growled, her voice trembling with rage.

before she could escalate the situation further, the cafeteria fell into an uneasy silence as jimin walked in, his presence instantly commanding attention. he scanned the room, his eyes quickly locking onto the commotion at your table. “what’s going on here?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of authority. sua’s lips curled into a smirk as she replied, “just closing a deal.”

his gaze flickered between sua and you, a look of concern crossing his features. without waiting for her response, he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her aside. his tone was firm and edged with frustration. “are you done here?” she huffed, her expression defiant. “i haven’t even started.”

jimin glanced back at your table, his eyes searching for you, but you had already stood up, brushing off the remnants of food from your clothes and gathering your things. you felt jisoo’s concerned gaze on you as you hurriedly made your way out of the cafeteria. he turned back to sua, his expression serious. “tone it down,” he said tersely. he began to follow in your direction, his concern palpable.

as he followed you, the cafeteria’s murmur of astonishment faded into the background, leaving you to navigate the hallways with a mixture of determination and unease. jisoo stayed close behind, her presence a comforting reminder of the support you had. you didn’t stick around to see what happened next. you slipped out of the cafeteria, the humiliation burning in your cheeks. you found yourself in an empty hallway, scrubbing at the stains on your skirt and blouse with a moist tissue. the tears threatened to spill over, but you fought them back, determined not to let sua win.

“you’re doing it wrong.”

the voice startled you, and you looked up to see jimin approaching. he knelt beside you, gently taking the tissue from your hand. “let me,” he said softly, wiping your uniform with surprising precision and gentleness. “she’s just jealous of you, you know,” he murmured as he worked.

you scoffed, shaking your head. “she has nothing to be jealous of.” he glanced up at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “that’s what you think.”

you watched him, the way his hands moved with careful attention, and a strange sensation stirred within you. it was something you couldn’t quite name, something warm and fluttering in your chest and stomach. “why are you being so nice to me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “given my reputation and all.”

he paused, his eyes meeting yours. “everyone has their flaws,” he said simply. he smiled again, a genuine, heartwarming smile. “it wouldn’t be fair for such a pretty girl to have no flaws, right?” the unexpected compliment made you feel a rush of emotions. you couldn’t help but smile back at him, the warmth spreading through you. his kindness felt like a beacon of light in your turbulent world, and you found yourself drawn to him in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

the biology classroom buzzed with the low hum of student chatter, the scent of textbooks and lingering antiseptic filling the air. you took your seat beside jisoo, still feeling the sting of the cafeteria incident, though you tried to push it to the back of your mind. she leaned over, her voice a quiet murmur. “are you okay? i swear, i’ll kill her for what she did.”

you managed a small smile, the ghost of amusement flickering in your eyes. “i’m fine. i’ll even help you hide the body.” she grinned, though the worry didn’t leave her eyes. before either of you could say more, the professor strode into the room, commanding immediate attention. he was a tall, thin man with a perpetually serious expression, his glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose.

“good afternoon, class,” he began, his voice cutting through the remaining whispers. “today, we’re starting a new project, one that will make up half of your final grade.” a collective groan rippled through the room, jisoo’s being the loudest.

“i hate science,” she muttered beside you. “everyone should just turn to God instead.” you might have laughed at her comment, but your attention was elsewhere. across the room, jimin sat with a soft smile playing on his lips, his eyes locking onto yours. the connection was brief but charged, a silent exchange that made your heart skip a beat.

the professor continued, oblivious to the undercurrents running through his classroom. “this project will involve both theoretical research and practical application. you will be studying various biological processes and their implications. each pair will be assigned a specific topic, which you’ll need to explore in depth. your presentation should include a detailed report and a demonstration of your findings.”

as he spoke, you barely registered his words, your mind preoccupied with the inexplicable pull towards jimin. it wasn’t until jisoo’s exaggerated whine broke through your thoughts that you snapped back to reality. “that’s not fair,” she protested. you turned to her, puzzled. “what are you talking about?”

her eyes were wide with disbelief as she leaned closer. “you’ve been partnered up with jimin.” your gaze flicked back to him, who was still looking at you with that infuriatingly soft smile. the professor’s voice droned on, repeating the importance of the project and its significant impact on your final grade.

next to jimin, sua scoffed loudly enough for those nearby to hear. “you must be ecstatic,” she spat. he turned to her, his expression a mix of frustration and confusion. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

she sneered, her eyes cold. “i see the way you look at her.” his frustration was evident as he shot back, “i’m only doing what you wanted.” her sneer deepened, but there was something in her eyes, a flicker of something almost like hurt, that she quickly masked with disdain. the tension between them was palpable, and you couldn’t help but feel caught in the crossfire of their unspoken conflict.

as the class went on, the professor handed out assignment sheets, detailing the topics and expectations for each pair. you glanced at the paper, trying to focus on the task at hand, but your mind kept drifting back to jimin. there was something about him, something beyond his charming smile and easy demeanor, that intrigued you. after class, jisoo grabbed your arm, her expression a mix of worry and excitement. “are you okay with this? i mean, working with him?”

you nodded slowly, still processing the unexpected turn of events. “i guess i don’t have much of a choice, do i?” she sighed, shaking her head. “just be careful, okay? i don’t trust him. or sua, for that matter.”

you squeezed her hand reassuringly. “i’ll be fine. it’s just a project.” but even as you said the words, you knew that it was more than just a project. it was an entanglement, a thread pulling you deeper into a web of intrigue and emotion. and as you walked out of the classroom, jimin’s gaze followed you, a silent promise of complications yet to come.

the library was a sanctuary of quiet, filled with the scent of old books and the soft rustling of pages turning. you wandered the aisles, collecting the necessary books for your biology project, the weight of their knowledge promising to lighten your academic burden. reaching for a particularly thick volume on a high shelf, you stretched on your toes, your fingers just grazing the spine when a hand reached up beside yours and plucked it effortlessly.

turning to protest, you found yourself face to face with jimin. he handed you the book with a small, teasing smile. “here you go,” he said. “thanks,” you replied, taking the book and trying to ignore the flutter in your chest. you moved to find a table, and he followed, his presence a constant, warm shadow.

as you settled into your seats, he broke the silence. “i have to admit, i don’t know much about biology. to be honest, it’s all a bit of a mystery to me.” you laughed, the sound light and genuine. “don’t worry, i’ll get you through it.”

you opened the books and began taking notes, trying to focus on the complex terms and diagrams. jimin, however, seemed more interested in watching you. every so often, you’d catch him glancing your way, a soft, thoughtful look in his eyes. at one point, he peered over your shoulder, reading aloud from the book.

“‘oxytocin,’” he said, his voice low and smooth, “‘a hormone that contributes to the biological process that stimulates the feeling of love.’” for a second, your eyes met, and a rush of warmth spread through you. you tried to push past it, scoffing lightly. “see? it’s just hormones.”

he leaned back in his chair, an amused glint in his eyes. “you really don’t believe in love, do you?” you hesitated, the question cutting deeper than you expected. shaking your head, you tried to muster a nonchalant response. “not really.”

his curiosity piqued, he leaned in closer, folding his arms over the book. “why not?” for the first time, someone had actually asked why, and it took you a moment to find your voice. your heart beat a little faster as you began. “because—”

you paused, the memories flooding back. “i used to believe in it, while my parents were together. then, my mother did what she did.” you laughed, but there was no humor in it. “it seemed like nothing was more important than money. not shame, not her family. and when dad left us, it ruined me, but all she cared about was making money.”

his expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand. his touch was gentle, sending shockwaves through you. “that sounds rough, but it won’t always be rough. if you’re not tempted by the wrong things, you’ll always end up with the right things.” you couldn’t help but ease into the warmth of his hand, the connection grounding you. “how do we know what the right thing is?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

jimin smiled, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “you’ll know when you feel it.” and in that moment, you swore you felt it. the sincerity in his eyes, the warmth of his touch—it was like a spark of something genuine, something real. for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe, if only for a fleeting second, that maybe, just maybe, there was something more.

the sun dipped low in the sky as you walked home, the air crisp and cool, carrying the scents of autumn. jimin strolled beside you, his hands tucked casually in his pockets. the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by comfortable silences that felt more like shared moments of understanding than lapses. as your house came into view, you turned to say goodbye, but your words caught in your throat as your mother stepped out onto the porch.

her face lit up with a welcoming smile. “you’re back later than usual,” she remarked, before turning her gaze to jimin. “and who might this be?”

he smiled politely and took a step forward. “i’m sorry, ma’am. we were studying together. i’m park jimin.” for a moment, your mother’s face seemed to freeze, her smile faltering as she examined him closely. “you look so much like your father,” she murmured, shaking her head as if to clear away old memories. her smile returned, albeit a bit more strained. “would you like to stay over for lunch, jimin?”

you blinked, glancing between the two of them, taken aback by her invitation. his laughter was nervous but genuine as he nodded. “i’d love to. thank you.”

inside, the house was warm, the kitchen filled with the comforting aroma of simmering soup and freshly baked bread. you helped your mother set the table, the clinking of dishes a soothing background noise. when you placed a bowl in front of jimin, your eyes met, and your heart fluttered inexplicably.

lunch was a quiet, intimate affair. your mother had outdone herself, serving a hearty meal that seemed to ease some of the tension in the air. jimin praised the food, and your mother’s smile was genuine this time, the warmth in her eyes reflecting her pride. “so, jimin,” your mother began, her tone conversational but probing, “i suppose you’ve heard about the scandal.”

he paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth, before setting it down gently. “i’ve heard a bit, yes,” he replied, his voice careful. “but it’s nothing to worry about. these things blow over soon enough.” you tensed at the mention of it, your appetite waning. your mother noticed and gave you a reassuring look before turning back to him. “you’re quite understanding. my daughter mentioned you not too long ago.”

you felt your cheeks burn as you scolded her softly, “mom, please.” jimin’s eyes sparkled with amusement, and he turned to you, an eyebrow raised. “oh, really?”

your embarrassment deepened, and you stammered, “it’s not a big deal.” your mother shook her head, her smile unwavering. “she’s never talked about a boy in her life. this is a big deal.”

jimin’s smile widened, his heart fluttering at the mention. “well, i’m honored,” he said softly, his gaze holding yours a moment longer than necessary. as the meal progressed, the conversation flowed easily. your mother seemed to warm up to him, her initial wariness melting away in the face of his genuine charm. he spoke about his interests, his plans for the future, and every so often, his eyes would flicker to you, as if seeking your approval.

as lunch came to an end, you found yourself reluctant to see jimin go. there was something about his presence that felt comforting, like a balm to your frayed nerves. when he finally stood to leave, your mother pressed a container of leftovers into his hands, insisting he take it. “thank you for having me,” he said, his voice sincere. “i really appreciate it.”

as you walked him to the door, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing. “thank you for today,” you said softly. he smiled, his eyes warm. “thank you for having me. i’ll see you at school?”

you nodded, unable to keep the smile from your lips. “see you at school.” and as he walked away, you felt a sense of anticipation, a feeling that perhaps, life was about to surprise you after all.

jimin walked the familiar path to his manor, the weight of the day pressing lightly on his shoulders. the estate loomed ahead, its grandeur a testament to his family’s status. as he entered, the smell of rich mahogany and leather filled his senses. his mother was seated on the couch, a glass of wine in hand, her expression turning to one of concern as she saw him.

“where have you been?” she asked, her voice soft but probing. his father, seated in his favorite armchair, eyed him cautiously. “studying for my upcoming project with a friend,” jimin replied, trying to keep his tone casual.

his father chuckled, a sound that held more skepticism than amusement. “studying, you say? snow must be forecasted for tomorrow.” jimin attempted to laugh it off, but his older sister chimed in. yura was a striking figure, a successful businesswoman who often indulged in wine with their mother. “a friend?” she queried, her tone laced with curiosity. “does this friend happen to be a girl?”

he tried to brush it off, maintaining his nonchalant demeanor. “yes, but she’s just a friend.” his mother’s brow furrowed slightly. “are you still seeing sua?” she asked, her concern evident.

jimin nodded, his voice steady. “yes, i am.”

“then why are you hanging out with other girls?” she pressed. before he could respond, his father intervened, his tone lighter. “he’s young. he has the right to have some fun.” this earned him skeptical glares from both his wife and daughter.

as jimin made his way up the grand staircase to his room, his mother’s voice followed him. “have you taken your pills?” his chest tightened at the reminder. “i’ll take them now,” he assured her.

“good,” she replied. “we don’t need another incident.” he felt a pang of unease at her words but continued to his room, closing the door behind him. the room was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where he could be himself. he crossed to his desk, where a bottle of pills stood as a stark reminder of his responsibilities. he frowned as he took one, the bitterness of the pill a sharp contrast to the sweetness of his earlier encounter with you.

but he couldn't dwell on the bitterness for long. the thought of you brought a warmth to his chest, a happiness that seemed to light up even the darkest corners of his mind. he plopped onto the couch, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he couldn't help but think about your eyes, the way they sparkled when you talked about something you were passionate about, and the way your laughter seemed to fill the room with light. for a moment, the weight of his family's expectations, the pills, and the memories of past incidents faded into the background.

the following morning, the sun cast a gentle glow over the tennis courts, the light filtering through the early morning haze. you were already on the court, warming up and serving balls with precise, practiced motions. each serve sliced through the air, a testament to your skill and dedication. the rest of the students began to line up, their murmurs a quiet hum in the background.

you stopped in your tracks when you heard a familiar scoff. looking up, you saw sua standing at the edge of the court, her smirk as sharp as ever. “don't worry, it isn't lunch yet,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. she paused, her eyes narrowing. “let's see if you're as good as they say you are.”

you squared your shoulders, determination settling in your bones. the showdown began, each of you serving and returning the ball with fierce intensity. the rhythmic sound of tennis balls being struck echoed around the court, blending with the rising tension in the air. jimin walked onto the field, curiosity etched on his features. spotting jaebum, he asked, “what's going on?”

jaebum, eyes fixed on the game, replied, “your girlfriend’s getting her ass handed to her.” to his surprise, a smile played on jimin's lips as he watched you. your form was impeccable, each movement fluid and powerful. the way you played was mesmerizing, a dance of skill and tenacity. the match grew more intense. you blocked sua's attempts to send the ball flying past you, returning each one with precision. the final moment came when sua, out of frustration, aimed a ball straight at your face. you blocked it effortlessly, sending it back her way with a force she couldn’t match. she scrambled, but couldn't save it in time.

the court erupted in applause, but sua was far from gracious in defeat. ahe strode over to you, her expression dark. “you have a way with balls,” she sneered. “your mother taught you well.”

fed up, you closed the distance between you, your hand darting out and colliding with the side of her face. the sound echoed around the court, followed by a collective gasp from the students. “i've had just about enough of your shit,” you said, your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you.

her eyes widened in shock. “have you lost your mind?” she demanded, raising her hand to strike you back. you flinched, bracing for the impact, but it never came. instead, jimin's grip closed around sua's wrist, stopping her cold. your heart raced as you watched the scene unfold.

“she slapped me,” she practically shrieked, her voice filled with indignation. “did you see what she did?” jimin’s expression remained calm, almost amused. “yeah, maybe you should stop biting off more than you can chew.” he dropped her hand, leaving her stunned and speechless.

turning to you, he grabbed your wrist, his touch firm but gentle. “come on,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “where are we going?” you asked, trying to keep up with his brisk pace.

“we're ditching school for the day,” he informed you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. you opened your mouth to protest, but the words died on your lips. there was something about the way he led you away, the sense of freedom in breaking the rules just this once, that made it impossible to resist. the two of you walked off the field, leaving behind the shocked whispers and lingering tension of the court.

as you walked briskly beside him, you couldn’t help but ask, “why the sudden idea?” he stiffened slightly, his grip on your wrist loosening but not letting go entirely. “you seem like you need a break,” he replied, his voice softer than usual.

the tension from the tennis court gradually melted away as you both ventured into the city. the world outside school walls felt different, lighter, filled with possibilities. your steps slowed as you approached a quaint coffee shop. the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted out as jimin held the door open for you. inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, the soft murmur of conversations blending with the clinking of cups.

you found a cozy corner by the window, and jimin ordered two lattes. when he returned with the steaming cups, he placed one in front of you and took a seat across the small table. “so,” he began, stirring his coffee thoughtfully, “tell me something about yourself that no one else knows.” you smiled, taking a sip of your latte. “i’m not as boring as people think,” you said, your tone playful.

he chuckled, a genuine smile lighting up his face. “i never thought you were boring.” the conversation flowed easily, laughter mingling with the aroma of coffee. you found yourself sharing stories, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders with each passing moment.

after leaving the coffee shop, you both wandered to a nearby park. the trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves whispering secrets to the wind. you found a bench beneath a large oak tree, its branches casting dappled shadows on the ground. jimin stretched out beside you, his gaze thoughtful. “you know,” he said, “sometimes you just need to let go and enjoy the little things.”

you nodded, watching as children played nearby, their laughter infectious. “i guess i’ve forgotten how to do that.” he turned to you, his eyes earnest. “then let’s remind you.”

the day seemed to pass in a blur of moments—feeding ducks at the pond, racing each other up a hill, and sharing stories beneath the shade of the old oak tree. each moment felt like a stolen piece of happiness, a reprieve from the usual chaos. as the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, jimin suggested one more stop. “let’s go to the beach,” he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

the beach was a short walk away, and the walk itself was filled with easy conversation and the hum of the active city. when you finally arrived, the sight of the sea stretching endlessly before you took your breath away. you kicked off your shoes, the cool sand seeping between your toes as you walked towards the shoreline. “i haven’t been to the beach in a long time,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “the last time i went was when my parents were still together.”

jimin’s gaze softened, and he brushed a strand of hair from your forehead. “you should come more often,” he said gently. you looked at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “why?”

he pointed to the sea, its waves lapping gently at the shore. “you’re as pretty as the sea.” you couldn’t help but blush, feeling warmth spread through your chest. “you’re not as awful as people say you are,” you said, your tone teasing.

he smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “you have no idea.” curiosity piqued, you asked, “what do you mean by that?”

he shrugged, looking out at the horizon. “i’ve got a lot on my plate, too.” you were about to ask him what he meant, the words forming on your lips, when he cut you off with a gentle kiss on your forehead. the touch was soft, lingering, and it sent a rush of warmth through you. you were taken aback, your heart pounding in your chest. he noticed your surprise and smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“come on,” he said, taking your hand. “we have a project to study for.” the butterflies in your stomach refused to settle as you followed him, the day’s events playing over and over in your mind. the sun set in the distance, casting a golden glow over the beach, but all you could think about was the boy beside you.

you walked with him, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the path as you approached his manor. the sight of the grand, imposing structure took your breath away, its sheer size and elegance making you feel small in comparison. jimin noticed your awe and smiled softly, guiding you through the expansive entrance. “welcome to my humble abode,” he joked, though there was a hint of something deeper in his eyes—perhaps a reluctance or discomfort with the grandeur of his home.

he led you through the hallways, each one more opulent than the last, until you reached his room. it was surprisingly simple compared to the rest of the house, a sanctuary of purity and calm. the walls were adorned with soft hues, the furniture understated yet elegant. your eyes landed on a series of framed baby photos on his bedside table. “is that you?” you asked, pointing to one of the photos.

he laughed, a sound that warmed the room. “yeah, that’s me. ibwasn’t that ugly, was i?” he teased, noticing your lingering gaze. “quite the opposite,” you said, sincerity in your voice. you were captivated by the innocence in the photo, a stark contrast to the composed young man beside you.

jimin picked up the photo you had been staring at, his fingers tracing the edges of the frame. a smile played on his lips, and his eyes softened with nostalgia. “simpler times,” he murmured, almost to himself. he carefully removed the photo from the frame and handed it to you. “take it,” he urged, his voice gentle yet firm.

“are you sure?” you asked, shocked by his gesture. he nodded, and your heart fluttered as you tucked the photo into your pocket. the sight of him as a baby made your heart swell with an unfamiliar warmth.

as you settled down to study, jimin began repeating the biological processes listed in the book, his voice rhythmic and soothing. despite his efforts, you couldn’t seem to focus, your mind wandering back to the earlier conversation. “what's wrong?” he asked, concern lacing his tone. “you mentioned having a lot on your plate,” you began hesitantly. “what did you mean by that?”

he sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “wait here,” he said, getting up and leaving the room. you waited, curiosity gnawing at you until he returned, a small bottle in his hand. “what’s that?” you asked, though you had a sinking feeling you already knew.

“antidepressants,” he answered, his voice calm. your eyes widened in surprise. “why do you have them?”

he lifted his sleeve, revealing his wrist where faint scars were healing. the sight of them stunned you, a sharp pain piercing your heart. the room seemed to hold its breath, the silence heavy and poignant. “i went through a tough time last year,” he explained, his voice steady but soft. “no one was willing to help. i was suffocating and couldn’t find a way out.”

he paused, a smile tugging at his lips despite the weight of his words. “i’ve never told anyone that before.”

you stared at his scars, your fingers tracing them gently. tears welled up in your eyes, the raw vulnerability of the moment overwhelming you. he noticed, brushing away a stray tear with his thumb. “hey,” he said softly, his touch tender. “i didn’t show you this so you could cry.”

“i’m just—i’m so glad you’re still here,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. his hand cupped your cheek, and in that moment of sheer vulnerability, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. the kiss shocked you at first, but you kissed back, the intensity of the moment deepening. it was a kiss filled with all the unspoken words, the shared pain, and the unvoiced longing.

his arms wrapped around you, and he gently picked you up, carrying you to his bed. the kiss grew more intense, each touch a promise, each breath a declaration. as he laid you down, his eyes held yours, a silent vow of understanding and acceptance. in the quiet sanctuary of his room, you both found solace in each other, a moment of purity and connection amidst the chaos of your lives. the world outside ceased to exist, and for those precious moments, it was just you and him.

his hands began to explore your body, his touch light and reverent. jimin had always been attentive, but now there was something different, something more profound. you felt your heart racing, your skin tingling with every caress. your body responded to his, eager to know him in every way possible. he noticed your nervousness and took his time, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, reassuring you that he would be gentle.

his lips trailed down your neck, and you felt your breath hitch. you’d never been with anyone before, but in that moment, you knew that this was right. he had become so much more than just a friend—he was the one who had seen through your walls, who had accepted you at your worst, and now he was the one you wanted to give yourself to completely. it made you wonder, what was it exactly that you were feeling? was it the sheer vulnerability taking action, or was it the feeling you had spent nineteen years believing to be nothing more than a mere illusion.

as he entered you, you knew what you were feeling wasn't an illusion. you felt a brief flash of pain, but his tender kisses and soothing whispers helped ease the discomfort. the pain soon gave way to pleasure, and you found yourself lost in the rhythm of his movements. your bodies melded together as one, the intimacy of the act leaving you feeling both vulnerable and empowered.

in the aftermath, you lay in his arms, the warmth of his embrace seeping into your very soul. his heartbeat was the only sound in the room, a steady rhythm that seemed to echo your own. his guilt still lingered, but in that moment, it was overshadowed by the raw emotion that filled the space between you. jimin had never meant for it to go this far, never meant to catch feelings for someone he was supposed to use as a means to an end. but as he held you, feeling your heart beating against his chest, he knew he could never go back to seeing you as just a bet. the lines had blurred, and now, he was just as invested in this as you were. the realization was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. but for now, he pushed it aside, choosing to focus on the warmth of your embrace and the sweet taste of your lips.

in the soft glow of the afternoon sun streaming through jimin's window, the world seemed to hold its breath. your heart raced as you lay beside him, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you both. the quiet hum of the house served as a gentle reminder of the sanctuary you found within each other's company. he turned to you, his eyes searching yours with a blend of curiosity and tenderness. “why did you give yourself to me if you don’t believe in love?” his voice was soft, barely above a whisper, yet it held the weight of a thousand unasked questions. the realization of what had transpired began to settle in, and you felt a mixture of vulnerability and courage. you looked into his eyes, the words forming slowly on your lips.

“i was tempted,” you whispered, the truth of it resonating in the quiet space between you. a small, almost shy smile played on his lips. “what exactly was it that tempted you?” he asked, his gaze unwavering.

you reached out, your fingers tracing the faint scars on his wrist with a delicate touch. there was something profound in the simplicity of the gesture, a silent acknowledgment of his pain and resilience. “you,” you said, your voice steady as you met his eyes. “you tempted me.”

his smile widened, a mixture of relief and affection lighting up his features. he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a tender caress. the vulnerability in his gaze mirrored your own, and in that moment, you felt an unspoken understanding pass between you. “thank you,” he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude and something deeper, something you couldn't quite name. you smiled back, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. “for what?”

“for seeing me,” he replied, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “for accepting me, scars and all.” the raw honesty of his words touched you deeply, and you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. the two of you lay there, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence. the world outside continued its relentless pace, but in the quiet sanctuary of his room, time seemed to slow down. the connection you shared felt sacred, a beautiful intertwining of souls that defied the chaos of life.

the morning sun filtered through the lace curtains of jimin’s room, casting delicate patterns on the walls. he woke up alone, the previous night's warmth lingering faintly in the air. the house was quiet, save for the occasional clink of dishes from the kitchen downstairs. he stretched, feeling a strange mixture of peace and anticipation.

as he descended the grand staircase, his mother looked up from her cup of tea, a smile of relief softening her features. “good morning, jimin. when are we going to see sua again? it feels like ages since she’s been over.” he paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face before he sighed. “actually, mom, i broke up with sua.”

his mother’s eyes widened in surprise. “you what? why on earth would you do that?” he took a deep breath, his heart pounding as he faced the inevitable. “i fell in love with someone else.”

his mother’s shock deepened, her teacup almost slipping from her grasp. “is it that girl you were studying with yesterday?” a gentle smile tugged at his lips as he nodded. “yes, it is.”

his mother opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, his father, who had been silently observing from his chair, spoke up. “why don’t you invite her over for dinner? we’d like to meet her.” his mother turned to him, aghast. “are you serious?” his father nodded, his expression calm and composed. “i am. i trust our son’s judgment.”

at school, the memory of the previous night played over and over in your mind as you recounted everything to jisoo. her eyes grew wider with each word, and she let out a shriek that drew the attention of everyone around. “you need to keep it to yourself,” you hissed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

she was stunned, her eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and excitement. “i warned you,” she said, hitting you lightly on the arm. before you could respond, a familiar voice interrupted. “warned her about what?”

you both turned to see jimin approaching, a playful smile on his lips. jisoo quickly brushed it off, trying to act casual. he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. you pushed him back, whispering urgently, “people are staring,” he chuckled. “so what?”

“you should be embarrassed to be seen with the hostess’s daughter,” you muttered, trying to step away. but he only pulled you in closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. he waved at taehyung, who was standing nearby, his jaw practically on the floor. jimin took your hand and waved it at taehyung, much to your mortification.

“are you crazy?” you hissed, trying to pull your hand back. he laughed, the sound light and carefree. “i have good news,” he said, his tone suddenly serious.

“what is it?” you asked, curiosity piqued. “my parents want to have dinner with you,” he said, pausing to gauge your reaction. “are you okay with that?”

jisoo’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, and you felt your own heart skip a beat. stunned and flustered, you nodded hesitantly. “i’d be honored.” jimin smiled, his eyes softening as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. the world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you.

that evening, as you stood before your wardrobe, your hands trembled with anticipation. your mother was out, so you indulged in exploring your options without interruption. fabrics of varying textures and colors slipped through your fingers as you considered each dress. you finally settled on an elegant white dress, its fabric smooth and cool against your skin. the intricate lace detailing along the neckline and hem added a touch of sophistication. you paired it with delicate pearl earrings and a simple bracelet, hoping to make a good impression.

once ready, you instructed your driver to take you to the park manor. the drive seemed both endless and fleeting, the passing scenery a blur of colors as your heart raced. upon arrival, jimin welcomed you with a warm hug, his embrace steadying your nerves. he led you inside where his parents awaited.

his mother’s eyes widened as she took in your appearance. “you’re even prettier than i anticipated,” she remarked, a smile playing on her lips. his father, however, remained silent, his gaze fixed on you with an unreadable expression. his stomach seemed to sink as he observed you, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. jimin's sister approached you, her eyes lighting up as she hugged you. “you look like a doll!” she exclaimed, admiring your handbag.

jimin beamed at their reactions, but his father’s silence lingered in his mind, casting a shadow over the otherwise warm reception. you were guided to the dining room, where a beautifully set table awaited. the soft glow of candles and the elegant tableware created a welcoming atmosphere. you couldn’t help but compliment the decor.

“thank you,” jimin’s mother replied, her smile genuine. she opened a bottle of wine, the soft pop of the cork punctuating the air. “would you like a glass?”

you declined politely. “oh, no, ma'am. i don’t drink.” her eyes sparkled with pleasant surprise, but she insisted, “it’s a special occasion.” she poured you a glass despite your initial refusal, placing it gently in front of you. as the meal began, the conversation flowed smoothly, filled with lighthearted anecdotes and laughter. the atmosphere was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the tension you had felt earlier. however, a shift occurred when jimin’s sister suddenly turned to you, her brow furrowed slightly.

“i just realized, we never got your name,” she said, curiosity in her voice. you smiled apologetically, feeling slightly embarrassed. “i’m sorry, my name is (y/n) (l/n).”

a heavy silence fell over the table, the warmth dissipating in an instant. his mother’s friendly expression quickly vanished, replaced by one of shock. she repeated your last name, her voice barely a whisper. “you’re the daughter of the woman who owns the hostess club,” she stated, her tone now cold and distant. you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you struggled to find your voice. “yes, but my mother is no longer a part of it,” you managed to say, your voice trembling.

his father’s face had turned pale, his eyes wide with disbelief. jimin’s gaze flicked between you and his parents, confusion and curiosity etched on his features. the glass in his mother’s hand suddenly shattered, wine spilling across the table as shards of glass dug into her skin. “get out of my house,” her tone was cold, her voice trembling with rage and horror. “never show your face here again.” you were stunned, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to comprehend what had just happened. jimin stood abruptly, his fist slamming into the table. “what is your problem?” he demanded, his voice shaking with anger.

his mother scoffed, her hand bleeding as she slammed the remaining shards of glass into the table. “don’t you know?” she spat, tears streaming down her cheeks. “don’t you know that your father was her mother’s favorite guest? your father and kang sua’s father?” she paused, her gaze piercing through you. “she tempted them. it’s in their blood.”

the weight of her words hit you like a physical blow. shocked and humiliated, tears streamed down your face as you stammered an apology before fleeing the room. the world outside was a blur of darkness and cold, the warmth and light of the manor replaced by the harsh reality of your situation. as you ran, the tears continued to flow, each step feeling heavier than the last.

the night air was cold against your skin as you ran, tears blurring your vision. humiliation and shame burned hot in your chest, mingling with a fierce, simmering anger. the echo of his mother’s words reverberated in your mind, each repetition deepening the wound. you burst through your front door, sobbing uncontrollably. your mother, who had been reading in the living room, rushed to your side, her face etched with concern. “what happened?” she asked, her voice soft with worry.

you tried to push her away, the sight of your once pristine dress now stained with wine and blood adding fuel to your anger. “it’s all your fault,” you spat, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. she recoiled, her eyes wide with shock. “what do you mean?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“everything!” you screamed, your voice raw. “dad leaving, the humiliation, all of it. it’s all because of you.” you sank to your knees, the overwhelming weight of your emotions pressing down on you. tears streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed, each breath a struggle. your mother, tears in her own eyes, knelt beside you. despite your protests, she wrapped her arms around you, her embrace warm and comforting.

“i know,” she whispered, her voice filled with sorrow. “i know you hate me, and no apology in the world will make up for me being the worst mother.” you fought against her hold at first, but your strength soon gave out. you clung to her shirt, your sobs gradually quieting. her presence, once a source of anger, now provided a strange comfort. she held you tightly, her tears mixing with yours as she whispered soothing words.

the house was silent except for the sound of your breathing and the occasional sniffle. the warmth of your mother’s embrace began to melt the ice around your heart, if only slightly. you were still angry, still hurt, but in that moment, you allowed yourself to be held. the weight of the evening’s events slowly began to lift, replaced by an overwhelming exhaustion. as your cries died down, you remained clinging to her shirt, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest. for the first time in a long while, you felt a small semblance of peace. it wasn’t forgiveness, not yet, but it was a start. and in the quiet of the night, held in your mother’s arms, you found a glimmer of hope.

the tension in the room was palpable after you fled, leaving an echoing silence that seemed to suffocate the air. jimin’s mother, her hand bleeding and her eyes filled with a mixture of rage and pain, finally broke the silence. her voice was calm, but there was a steely edge to it that brooked no argument. “jimin,” she said, “you will never see that girl again.”

jimin, still standing, fists clenched in fury, shook his head vehemently. “no,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “she has nothing to do with her mother’s affairs.” he paused, his gaze shifting to his father, who sat with his head bowed in shame. “or your affairs.”

his mother’s face twisted with anger. she slammed her hand down on the table, causing the silverware to clatter. “see her again then,” she spat. “try your luck.” the room was charged with an almost tangible electricity. her face was a mask of cold determination, her eyes burning with a fierce intensity. she paused, her voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “see her again, and i promise you she’ll disappear.”

his heart pounded in his chest. he felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under him, leaving him adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions. anger, fear, and a desperate need to protect you all warred within him. he knew he couldn’t let his mother’s threats go unanswered, but the sheer intensity of her hatred left him momentarily speechless. the dinner table fell silent once more, the only sound the ticking of the antique clock in the hallway. jimin turned and left the room, his heart heavy with a mix of determination and dread. he knew the battle was far from over, but he also knew that he couldn’t give up on you. not now, not ever.

the morning at school was cloaked in an oppressive tension, and the air seemed to thrum with unspoken words and hidden resentments. jimin, with a determined stride, marched through the crowded hallway, his eyes fixed on sua. as he approached her, the sea of students parted, sensing the gravity of the confrontation about to unfold.

her eyes flickered with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. “giving up already?” she asked, her voice dripping with condescension. jimin’s face was a mask of unyielding resolve. “the game is over,” he said abruptly, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding.

she raised an eyebrow, her expression one of intrigued disbelief. “what do you mean?” he took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. “i’ve fallen in love with her,” he declared, his voice firm despite the weight of his words.

her eyes widened in shock, and then a cruel smile curved her lips. “you must be joking,” she said, her tone icy with contempt. he shook his head, a mix of sadness and resolve in his eyes. “i’m not. i’m sorry, sua.” without another word, her hand lashed out, the sting of the slap echoing through the hallway. jimin flinched, but his eyes remained locked on hers, a silent defiance in their depths. shw turned on her heel, her gaze cold and unfeeling as she walked away, her heels clicking ominously on the polished floor.

as she disappeared into the bathroom, you were making your way down the corridor, lost in your own thoughts. the bathroom door swung open with a sharp creak, and her presence was like a storm cloud. she spotted you at the sink, and her gaze hardened as she approached. you met her gaze in the mirror, your heart sinking. “what do you want?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter of anxiety in your chest.

her expression twisted into a mask of venomous disdain. “you’ve tempted him,” she said, her voice dripping with malice. she paused, letting her words sink in before adding, “you really are just like your mother.”

in the midst of your panic, her voice cut through the noise once more. “you really thought this was real?” she sneered, her tone dripping with contempt. “you were just a bet. jimin was a part of it from the beginning.” the revelation hit you like a physical blow, your breath catching as you gasped for air. through the blur of water and your own tears, you barely made out her words.

“he was never serious,” she continued, her expression a cruel mix of satisfaction and pity. “it was all just a game to him, a way to amuse himself. and you were just another pawn.” the words echoed in your mind, mingling with the sting of the cold water and the pressure of her hands. the reality of the betrayal was a crushing weight, adding to the turmoil you already felt.

before you could react, her hand clamped onto your hair, her grip like a vice. panic surged through you as she yanked you towards the sink. the cold, unforgiving porcelain met your face as she dunked you, the water gushing forth with a harsh, relentless force. you flailed, gasping for air as the water swirled around you, filling your senses with its icy, suffocating embrace. your mind whirled with disjointed memories from your old school, fragments of humiliation and fear blending with the present moment. the world around you blurred as your vision darkened, the water pressing against your face like a heavy, smothering shroud.

just as you felt yourself slipping into darkness, a powerful force yanked her away. the sudden release was disorienting, and you coughed, spluttering as you gasped for breath. as you tried to steady yourself, the chaos around you began to coalesce into clarity. turning your head, you saw jisoo standing in the doorway, her face a mask of fury and concern. “get lost,” she commanded, her voice a fierce, protective roar.

sua, caught off guard, hesitated before retreating, her expression one of anger and frustration. as she stormed out of the bathroom, the door slammed behind her, leaving you and jisoo in the wake of the confrontation. she hurried to your side, her arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace. you clung to her, tears streaming down your face as you trembled with shock and fear. “it’s gonna be okay,” she whispered, her voice soothing and steady. “i’m here. you’re safe now.” the warmth of her embrace was a stark contrast to the cold, harsh reality of what had just transpired. as you allowed yourself to cry, the sobs wracking your body, her presence was a balm to your wounded spirit. her hands gently stroked your back, her voice a constant reassurance that you weren’t alone.

as you left the school, the heavy weight of the day seemed to press down upon you. the hallway, once bustling with the casual chatter of students, now felt hollow and distant. your footsteps echoed in the quiet, a rhythmic reminder of the chaos that had just unfolded. as you approached the gates, your phone buzzed sharply, breaking the silence of your troubled thoughts. you glanced at the screen, seeing jimin’s name flash across it. an inexplicable mix of apprehension and curiosity gripped you. you hesitated for a moment before answering, your breath catching as you said, “hello?”

to your surprise, it was not jimin’s voice but his mother’s that greeted you. her tone was clear and authoritative, though tinged with an undertone of cold detachment. “hello,” she began, “i need you to come to the manor immediately.” your heart raced at the urgency in her voice. “is everything alright?” you asked, your concern mingling with anxiety.

“good,” she replied crisply. “it’s in your best interest to come now.” before you could respond, the call ended abruptly. a surge of unease propelled you to the park manor, your mind a whirl of worry and confusion. the grandiose estate loomed before you, its imposing structure now a place of dread rather than comfort. as you approached the front door, you noticed the serene beauty of the manor felt jarringly out of place with the turmoil inside.

you were greeted at the door by three figures: his mother, his father, and his sister. none of them were jimin. the air in the room was thick with tension, and his mother wasted no time in addressing you. “sit down,” she said, her voice firm and unyielding.

you took a seat, your heart pounding in your chest. his mother continued, her gaze cold and unyielding. “you are to cease all contact with my son,” she said, her words slicing through the air with chilling clarity. tears welled up in your eyes as you fought to maintain your composure. “i have nothing to do with my mother’s affairs,” you said, your voice trembling. “i love jimin.” your own declaration took you by surprise, the depth of your feelings for jimin crystallizing in that moment. his sister, standing to the side, regarded you with a sympathetic expression, her eyes softening.

his mother, however, remained resolute. “you have two choices,” she said, her voice unwavering. “you can stop seeing him immediately and remain in korea, or you can continue seeing him for the next two weeks and allow me to send you wherever i deem necessary.” the weight of her words settled heavily upon you. you knew what was at stake—your future, your freedom, and your relationship with him. the thought of losing him was unbearable, and with a steely resolve, you made your choice.

“the second option,” you said, your voice steady despite the fear that gripped you. a glimmer of approval flickered in his mother’s eyes. “very well,” she said. “time is ticking. he’s in his room. go to him now.”

you rushed through the opulent corridors of the manor, your heart racing with each step. the grandeur of the house, usually so comforting, now seemed to close in around you, intensifying your anxiety. you reached his door and hesitated for a brief moment before knocking softly. the door swung open, and there stood jimin, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and hope. without a word, you threw yourself into his arms, your tears flowing freely. his embrace was warm and reassuring, and you could feel his body trembling slightly as he held you close.

“i’m here,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “i’m so sorry for everything.” you clung to him, your own tears mingling with his. the shared pain and the depth of your connection were palpable in that moment. his room, usually a place of calm and order, became a sanctuary of shared grief and solace.

he pulled back slightly, his eyes red and shimmering with emotion. “sua told you, didn’t she?” his voice was a soft murmur, each word heavy with regret and sadness. you nodded, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. “she did,” you managed to reply, your voice barely a whisper. the betrayal of her revelation stung, but you were determined not to let it overshadow the fragile moments you had left with him. you needed to hold on to whatever you could before it was too late.

hia face was a canvas of conflicting emotions as tears slipped down his cheeks. “it’s true,” he admitted, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession. “everything she said was true. the bet, the game—everything.”

your heart ached as he spoke, but you refused to let the hurt cloud the remaining time you had with him. you reached up to touch his face, wiping away a tear that had escaped down his cheek. “but,” you said softly, “every word and every embrace we shared—they were real to me. were they real to you too?” he nodded, his gaze unwavering as he took your hand in his. “yes,” he said, his voice firm despite the tears. “every word, every touch—it was all real. i fell for you, truly. even if the beginning was under false pretenses, what i felt for you was genuine.”

you offered him a small, bittersweet smile, trying to keep the pain from overwhelming you. “did i tempt you?” you asked gently, your eyes searching his for the truth. he shook his head, a look of profound sincerity in his eyes. “no,” he said softly. “it wasn’t temptation. it was love.” the sincerity in his words was like a balm to your wounded heart. despite the betrayal and the broken trust, his confession was a glimmer of truth amidst the wreckage. the knowledge that his feelings for you were genuine, even if the circumstances were tainted, offered a fragile hope.

the moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery sheen over the tennis court as sua stood alone, her figure a stark silhouette against the backdrop of darkness. the once pristine surface, now marked with scattered tennis balls, bore silent witness to her anguish. she moved with a frantic energy, her serve wild and uncoordinated, her tears mingling with the sweat on her face.

her tennis racket flew through the air with each forceful swing, connecting with the balls only to send them careening off into the corners of the court. each miss was a blow to her heart, a physical manifestation of her internal turmoil. the rhythmic thud of the racket meeting the ball echoed through the still night, a harsh reminder of the chaos that churned within her.

with every serve, she attempted to expel the weight of her pain and betrayal. one ball flew off her racket for her father's broken promises, his failure to protect her from the harsh realities of their world. another, driven with greater force, was aimed at jimin’s rejection, his love once desired now an elusive fantasy. the final ball was a direct hit aimed at you, the one who had stolen the affections of the boy she had coveted, the one who had inadvertently exposed her vulnerabilities.

her once graceful movements became erratic, her strokes heavy and labored. she continued to hit ball after ball, her frustration mounting with each missed shot. tears streamed down her cheeks, mingling with the sweat that glistened under the moonlight. the court was littered with tennis balls, each one a testament to her emotional struggle and the unanswered questions that plagued her.

finally, she collapsed onto the ground, her racket falling from her grasp. It lay beside her, its handle resting against the cold surface of the court. her sobs were uncontrollable now, her body shaking with each cry as she lay on the ground. the silence of the night was broken only by her heart-wrenching pleas. “why not me?” she cried out, her voice raw and desperate. the words echoed through the empty court, a stark contrast to the usually cheerful sound of tennis matches. she looked up at the sky, her tears reflecting the pale light of the moon.

the next two weeks passed in a bittersweet blur, a fragile sanctuary carved out of time amidst the chaos of looming departure. each day with jimin was a delicate dance of stolen moments and fleeting joys. your days were filled with long walks through serene gardens, the crisp air carrying laughter and conversation. evenings were spent in cozy corners of his favorite cafes, where you shared whispered dreams over cups of steaming coffee.

his presence was a balm, soothing the sting of impending separation. his touch was gentle, his smile a constant source of comfort. together, you explored hidden spots in the city, places that seemed to come alive under his animated descriptions. each shared glance and playful banter deepened the bond between you, weaving a tapestry of intimacy and understanding.

the nights were no less tender. you would sit side by side, wrapped in soft blankets, as he recounted stories of his childhood. the light from the flickering fireplace cast a warm glow on his face, making the shadows dance in rhythm with the stories he told. he showed you his favorite spots in his home, each room steeped in memories that he now shared with you. the time together was a precious interlude, a sanctuary from the world’s harshness.

on the eve of your departure, the weight of impending separation hung heavy in the air. jimin had arranged a special evening, unaware of what was to come, filled with your favorite music and a candlelit dinner prepared with care. the atmosphere was serene, the soft glow of the candles flickering against the walls, creating an intimate cocoon around the two of you.

as the night wore on, his eyes held a glimmer of anticipation. he finally spoke, breaking the gentle silence that had settled between you. “i have a gift for you,” he said, his voice soft yet filled with warmth. his fingers reached into his pocket, retrieving a small, intricately crafted dreamcatcher. its delicate threads shimmered in the candlelight, adorned with tiny beads and feathers that swayed gently as he held it out to you.

you accepted the gift with a sense of wonder, your eyes tracing the intricate patterns of the dreamcatcher. “what's this for?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “it filters out all the nightmares,” he replied, his smile tender as he watched you. “i want you to have it, so you’ll always have sweet dreams, even when i’m not around.”

you wrapped your fingers around the dreamcatcher, feeling its cool, smooth surface against your skin. moved by the gesture, you pulled him into a tight embrace, holding him close. the warmth of his body against yours was a comfort you wished could last forever. “i love you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly as he pulled back to look into your eyes. “i want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

the words, so earnest and sincere, made your heart swell with emotion. “i love you too,” you responded, your voice filled with a mix of affection and sorrow. “i want that too.” he kissed you then, a tender, lingering kiss that spoke of promises and dreams yet to be fulfilled. the kiss was a silent vow, a declaration of the love that bound you together despite the challenges ahead.

after he left, the weight of the moment settled heavily upon you. you closed the door behind him, the silence of the room amplifying the ache in your chest. the dreamcatcher, now held close to your heart, seemed to pulse with the memories of the past weeks. as the door clicked shut, the realization of the imminent departure hit you with full force. you sank to your knees on the floor, the tears that had been held back finally breaking free. they flowed unchecked, each sob a release of the grief and the bittersweet joy of the moments shared with him. the dreamcatcher lay beside you, its delicate threads shimmering softly in the dim light, a poignant reminder of the love you would leave behind.

the room was filled with the soft rustle of the dreamcatcher’s feathers, a hauntingly beautiful sound that seemed to echo your sorrow. as you clutched the dreamcatcher tightly, you felt the full weight of the separation, the loss of the future you had hoped for. the love that had blossomed in such a short time now seemed both a blessing and a cruel reminder of the distance that would soon separate you.

the following day dawned with an unsettling quiet. your absence was a stark void in the school corridors, a missing presence that jimin immediately noticed. as he walked past your empty seat, his heart sank. his gaze darted around the classroom, hoping to catch sight of you, but the seat beside him remained conspicuously vacant.

unable to quell the growing sense of worry, he approached jisoo, his voice laced with concern. “where is she?” he asked urgently, his eyes searching hers for answers. jisoo, her expression a mask of indifference, shrugged dismissively. “i don’t know. she hasn’t been here all day.”

the coldness in her tone stung, but he barely registered it. his anxiety mounted as he turned to sua, who observed him with a stony face, her eyes betraying nothing. his heart raced as he called your number, only to be met with the disheartening message that the line was deactivated. panic surged through him, propelling him to sprint out of the school, his mind a maelstrom of dread and confusion.

he arrived at your house, breathless and desperate, only to find the place eerily silent and empty. the front door, once a welcoming entrance, now seemed like a barrier to the answers he sought. the sight of the “for sale” sign in the yard was a cruel twist of the knife. jimin turned to the neighbor, who was tending to her garden. his voice trembled with urgency. “do you know where they went? please, i need to find them.”

the neighbor looked up, a frown forming on her face. “didn’t you know?” she asked, her voice tinged with surprise. “they moved out last night.”

the words hit him like a physical blow. the weight of the revelation crashed over him, a suffocating wave of despair. he turned and ran back to his manor, his heart pounding in his chest, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. bursting through the front door, his eyes sought out his mother, who was seated at the dining table, seemingly calm and composed. “where is she?” he demanded, his voice strained. “where did you send her?”

his mother’s gaze was steady, though her eyes carried an edge of disdain. “she’s far away,” she replied coolly, her tone dismissive. the finality of her words shattered something within him. tears sprang to his eyes, blurring his vision. overwhelmed by grief and frustration, he slammed his fist into the table, the sound echoing through the quiet house. “where? where did you send her?” he cried, his voice cracking with desperation.

his mother’s face softened for a moment, but she remained resolute. “take your pills,” she said firmly, rising from her seat.

as she left the room, jimin sank to his knees, his body trembling with the weight of his anguish. the room seemed to close in on him, the walls echoing the hollow ache in his chest. his sister entered, her eyes filled with concern and sympathy. without a word, she knelt beside him and pulled him into a tight embrace. jimin clung to her, his sobs wracking his body. between gasps of air, he managed to confess the depth of his feelings. “i love her,” he choked out. “i love her so much.”

his sister’s voice was soft and laced with tears as she whispered, “she’s in gangnam.”

the word resonated through him like a beacon of hope amidst the storm of his despair. he pulled back slightly to look at her, his eyes wide with renewed determination. “gangnam?” he repeated, his voice almost a whisper. she nodded, her tears mingling with his. “yes. she’s there. you need to go now.” the realization that you were still within reach, albeit at a distance, ignited a spark of resolve in him.

you and your mother had arrived in gangnam late into the night, the city's vibrant lights casting a melancholic glow on your new surroundings. the apartment, though modest compared to the grandeur of your previous residence, was a refuge from the turmoil that had pursued you. your mother’s apologies were a constant murmur, her voice thick with regret and sorrow. she fretted over every detail, her guilt apparent in every word she spoke.

“it’s all my fault,” she repeated, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. “i should never have put you through this.” you placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to offer comfort despite your own swirling emotions. “it’s going to be okay, mom,” you reassured her, though you felt far from certain. “we’ll make this work. it’s a new beginning.”

after some time, you decided to step out and clear your mind. the streets of gangnam were a vibrant tapestry of neon lights and bustling activity. as you wandered through the city, you found yourself drawn towards the beach, a place that had once held significant memories.

the soft, salty breeze greeted you as you reached the shore. the waves lapped gently at the sand, a rhythm that mirrored the bittersweet cadence of your own heart. you sank onto the sand, recalling the day you had spent with jimin at the beach. the laughter you shared, the warmth of his hand in yours, the promises whispered beneath the starlit sky—all these memories surged back, flooding your senses with an ache that was both beautiful and devastating.

tears sprang to your eyes, blurring your vision as you looked out at the horizon. the sea, with its endless expanse, felt like a reflection of your own feelings—vast, deep, and profoundly complex. you had left everything behind because you were tempted. no, not merely tempted—you were in love. you had felt as beautiful and infinite as the sea itself.

a voice cut through your reverie, startling you. “i knew i’d find you here.”

the words were soft but unmistakable. You froze, unable to believe what you were hearing. slowly, you turned around, and there he was. the sight of him brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. he was here, but there was an undeniable distance between you, an invisible barrier that seemed almost insurmountable.

he took a few steps toward you, his expression a mix of hurt and frustration. “how could you not tell me?” he asked, his voice cracking with emotion. “how could you just leave me like that?”

you shook your head, the tears flowing freely now. “i had no choice,” you said softly, your voice breaking. “it was either leave or risk everything.”

jimin’s eyes softened, his concern etched deeply on his face. “but you didn’t have to do it alone,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “you should have let me be part of it.”

you backed away slightly, feeling the weight of his presence and the danger it posed. “you have to go home,” you said urgently. “you can’t be seen with me. it’s not safe.” but he closed the distance between you, his determination unwavering. he reached out and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. the warmth of his embrace was like a balm to your wounded soul. you could feel his tears mingling with yours as he buried his face in your hair, his emotions raw and palpable.

“you need to come home,” he murmured through his tears. “you don’t have to face this alone. no matter what, we can figure it out together.”

you shook your head against his shoulder, the reality of your situation weighing heavily on you. “i can’t,” you whispered, feeling the hopelessness of the situation. “i don’t have anywhere else to go.” jimin gently wiped away your tears with his thumb, his own face streaked with sadness. “no one can do anything as long as you have me,” he said firmly, his voice full of conviction. “i love you. and that’s all that matters.”

you looked up at him, your heart aching with the depth of your feelings. “i love you too,” you replied, your voice trembling. the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the gentle roar of the ocean and the steady you had found something you had once thought hadn't existed. “i never believed it existed,” you whispered, the words carrying the weight of your newfound understanding. “i didn’t think i could find something like this.”

jimin’s eyes, filled with an earnest intensity, met yours. “it’s real,” he assured you softly. “we found it together.”

✧.*

a/n: this one was a doozy

[the-gayest-show]

Operation Birthday Takeover Review/Analysis

I wanted to include this in the review bomb but decided against it because the episode would take too much yap compared to the others to summarize properly, let's go!

(sorry if these screenshots have the player on them I couldn't find a better way bare with me this is better than the easier route i'd have taken)

HAHAHAHAHAHA SO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT HERE!

First of all, PERI! YOU'RE BACK BABY HBUIEBRBFEIBFWiuB

Second of all and most important, this was a MAJOR Dev episode. Well, obviously, since it's his birthday, but we got to see more of him being nice while it lasted anyways, and we also got to see more of Dale's neglect and it's affects on Dev.

You can see he's clearly disappointed about his dad paying no attention to Dev at all, preferring to work on "Project H" instead of his own son. Will throw hands on this man fr.

Throughout the episode we see more hints of this disappointment, like when Vicky gets invited to the party (Dev doesn't even like princesses! DUDE!)

Now that I'm really rewatching as I go, Hazel seems to be very aware of it and very empathetic towards Dev, I like that about her. She's looking out for her friend! Good on her!

On the other hand (to move the plot forward and thus this review), I love seeing the fairy family back in action again!

I love their dynamic even more! Also I swear to God half of the iconic lines come from these interactions I swear to God.

"Time to see what's so secret about this room!....... On second thought never mind" SOBBING LAUGHING

Having the three of them slowly find out that project H is actually Project Hazel is so wild. THEY LITERALLY WROTE DOWN IMPORTANT INFO ON THE BOARD LIKE THE FAIRIES THING. COSMO! WANDA! WHYYYYYYYYY

The sad part of the matter is, Dale was fixated on Dev's friend of all people simply because she was... content? With fairy godparents? It's so sad actually for Dev... he REALLY needs someone to care about him

I wanna get into Vicky though now, and the surprising amounts of references to the OG series that were made in less than 2 minutes apart from each other? Crazy!

First of all, she's back! An interesting character to return for sure, considering she mostly acted as Timmy's babysitter in the OG series, but the continuity of this show never ceases to surprise me!

She's somehow similar looking? Like, correct me if I'm wrong but shouldn't she be older now? Significant enough to be changed visually for sure. AJ was 10 in the original series and now he's like 30 something. By that logic shouldn't Vicky be closer to her 40s? Does that age a person significantly from 16? That's what I thought anyways... She's still into the "conning little children for money" thing. She's literally 30+ at least, did she not try to up her game somehow? IMHO she totally could have extreme power like that over adults if she got gullible enough ones, could've been worse, but I guess people of Vicky's personality don't truly change unless there's a major life breakthrough that happens. You know what they say about peaking in high school...

Icky Vicky the song (and thus the episode it was in) is canon to the FOP A New Wish universe. I could swear the song sounded slightly different than it did when it was sung in this episode, but I'll blame that on the song coming out 10+ years ago and voice actors being too specific to nail down (I think the guy from one direction played the Icky Vicky singer? No wonder they couldn't invite him back). The song being referred to as "old" got me cringing a bit. I didn't grow up with the show but I get the feeling people who did felt themselves aging in real time with Jasmine's comment...

TIMMY MENTION! TIMMY HAS BEEN MENTIONED BY NAME IN THE A NEW WISH UNIVERSE AGAIN!

Poor fairy trio though, they're all traumatized by Vicky, even Peri (who thought she was some weird ass dream, dawg I wish 😭) and immediately they're cowering with fear at the sound of her name. They got PTSD or something from all those years in original FOP...

What's funnier is them being able to stand up to Vicky by just. transforming into humans, which works bc that's always worked in FOP canon (when parental figures showed up in the OG), but somehow Wanda and Cosmo didn't fucking know that? Truly, Wanda, it would've been nice for y'all to know that some decades ago.

"That's Vicky for ya! Making Kids Miserable Since 2001!"

Actually it would be 1998 if we count the Oh Yeah Cartoon Pilot and subsequent episodes, but I guess we're only counting actual FOP as canon 😔

-

I wanna really talk about the last scene though, where Dev finds out that Project H was Project Hazel. It REALLY tears him up inside to see just HOW bad his father doesn't give a shit about him.

LOOK. LOOK AT THAT FACE AND TELL ME THAT ISN'T DEVASTATION! Even as he's recounting all the times that his father talked about Project H

The emotional neglect really runs deep with this one.

He lashes out at both Peri and Hazel (her especially since he's under the impression that she faked being his friend or something) and even wishes for Peri to leave him alone. So basically he's closing himself off from the 2 people who cared about him the most, likely as an emotional response. And then he goes and crosses off everything on the board in anger and leaves.

I've noticed Peri's behaviour towards Dev has changed a bit again since the Dimmsonian episode. I think in that episode initially he seemed more tired, and he's probably still tired, but if he is, it's not shown as much here. I think personally Peri seeing more of Dev's life might've changed his attitude towards the child, but he still remains semi optimistic. He cares about this kid. It's shown even in just those few seconds of hesitation before he leaves that Peri was kind of heartbroken/sad at the request to leave Dev's side, but was willing to do so since he asked/wished. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I really do enjoy their dynamic and really wish to see more of it, especially after this.

This is all 100% driven from his dad's actions affecting his emotional state, and I think this is actually a perfect setup for the episode where Dev and Irep take over Fairy World. Especially if Irep finds Dev like not even seconds after this scene, he's more vulnerable now than he's been throughout the whole series thus far, so a manipulator like Irep (if he is a good one, but heck even if he was dogshit at it) could defo make him change his thoughts on things.

Overall this episode was great and there's lots to love about it!

[baekguuuuu]

Enchanted

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: TimeTravel!au (this is the last one i swear), romance, angst, Heavily inspired by Enchanted by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 20.5k

Disclaimer: As mentioned, this fic is heavily inspired by the song Enchanted. This is purely fictional and not based on what happened in real life.

Summary: Tired of constant fights of your parents, you found herself in the attic where an old wardrobe stood at the corner years before your family moved in the house.

What could an antique furniture do to change your life?

This is not how a family is supposed to be. 

Constant arguing. Constant yelling. Constant throwing whatever they could reach at each other. 

Constant discussion about divorce. 

Being the eldest daughter in an Asian household was a lot to take—an overwhelming roller-coaster of emotions throughout my entire life.  

I must be the sacrificial lamb amongst my siblings. 

My grades must be soaring high. Anything beneath an A was unacceptable, and I must prepare for an earful about “not being good enough.” 

Dreams? I dismissed the meaning of that word a long time ago. My only career choices are engineering, accounting, law, or medicine. 

Art is stupid. That was what my dad said when I was in fifth grade, and wanted a camera for my birthday. I was fascinated with taking pictures when I was young. Instead, I got a sad birthday cake from the grocery store and an outdated Jansport backpack as a gift. 

You might think, “Oh, life must be financially burdensome for their family.” I felt so, too. And that was true. But my parents would do things differently to my siblings. 

I tried to be the daughter they wanted me to be and didn’t ask or think ill towards my parents. However, when I started middle school, I learned that my parents just have favoritism. 

And clearly, I was not their favorite. 

The middle child, who was just a year younger than me, got to join a Taekwondo lesson as a child, not because our parents wanted him to, but because he wanted to. After a year, he switched to football. After that, he was into boxing. 

Just a coincidence? 

No, he was our mom’s favorite. 

The youngest was three years younger than me, and she was enrolled in an Art school. She also wanted to be a ballerina. My parents were supportive of her. They paid for classes and for her goddamn shoes that needed to be changed every other week. 

I thought Art was stupid, Dad?

Oh, right... she was his favorite. 

It would be a few more months before I graduated high school, and I couldn’t be more thankful that I received a full scholarship to a university that, fortunately, my parents have always dreamed of. 

For years, I’ve already decided to live away from home and opt to stay at the dorms; yet again, I don’t have the right to decide for myself, don’t I? 

My mom and dad agreed to let me stay in their house until I got my degree. They were too afraid that I would lose track of my supposed-to-be dream of becoming an Engineer. That was their choice, not mine. 

I wanted to take pictures, but they wanted me to build structures. 

Tonight was the same as the other nights.  

My dad had just gotten home from his nine-to-five desk job and a drinking session with his colleagues, while my mom claimed that she was so stressed from her part-time admin job that she still had to cook and clean after us. 

I was the one who did the grocery shopping; I did not own a car and had to ride the bus with plastic bags in my hands. I was the one who washed the dishes and threw the trash out because, apparently, the youngest in this household just got her nails done, and the chores would ruin them. 

Dad said the middle child should be excluded from the chores because he is a man. I honestly don’t get the logic behind his words. We are in the 21st century, not in the 1900s. 

Despite all my efforts, I was still not being credited. Yet again. 

Dad was an old-fashioned guy. He wanted to be served by his wife and his daughter—well, only me because his precious youngest daughter can’t do shit. 

I was already in my bedroom and ready to tuck myself in bed, as it was a school night when Dad arrived. He banged on the front door behind him as he came in. It started with yelling, cursing, and throwing stuff, as usual. 

Then, the divorce. 

It’d be like this every single time I could identify the scenario as a routine in this house. 

The only thing I could not and could never accept was that after this night, my mom would post on her social media how perfect our family was—or, more accurately, how she would portray it. “My family is my everything,” she would caption our family photo on Facebook. 

Bullshit. Everything is bullshit. 

I was seated on my bed; my eyes were closed as I listened to their argument. “I don’t love you anymore, I haven’t for the past ten years,” my dad screamed, earning a violent sob from my mom.  

Then I heard a glass shattering on the ground—Mom probably threw another of her vase collections to dad. “Then leave! I don’t need you here! I don’t need anyone in this family. All of you can leave for all I care!” 

The only thing I could do was bury my face in my hands to muffle my sobs. Whenever I thought I was already numb to this situation, I’d be proven wrong. It was still painful. To be in this family.  

After a while, the house turned silent. There was no shouting, cursing, or throwing objects. It was just an eerie silence. Then suddenly, the door across my room opened and closed, and then the bedroom beside mine. 

Oh, right.  

Mom had to comfort my brother, telling him it was just an argument and everything would be fine.  

Obviously, Dad went to my sister’s room to do the same. 

I almost forgot that this is also part of their routine—comforting their children. 

Some people might think they would come into my room after calming down their favorite child.  

No. They never did. 

I had to wipe my own tears because no one would do it for me. 

With a heavy heart, I pushed the comforter away from my body and placed my feet on the floor. Wiping the leftover tears, I went out of my room, and the only place I could think of was my safe place—the attic. 

Unlike other houses, our attic is well kept, courtesy of the loner in this house—me. You barely could see dust, spiderwebs, and all that stuff. This was my only escape from this house since my siblings thought they were too cool to hang out with me, while my parents plainly didn’t care. 

The hand-pulling light bulb dangled from the ceiling as I turned on the source of brightness in these four walls. 

A sigh escaped my lips while I looked around the room, inspecting if someone had come in without my knowledge. When I confirmed that everything was in its place as I left them, I pulled out my iPhone from my pyjama’s pocket and was glad that I had charged the device before I came up here.  

February 20, 2020, 01:50 AM, the date and time read. 

With my legs crossed, I sat on the wooden floor as I scrolled through my gallery for the random photos I had taken the past few days.  

I automatically smiled at each file. Some were pictures of my friends at school, while most were pictures of trees, trails, random people on the street. 

I was focusing on one picture I took last week: a police station built over a hundred years ago. It was near my house, and since I was a kid, older people would tell us stories about how it was requested to be demolished and relocated to a much more commercial place several times but was protected by an influential family. 

My thoughts were too occupied that I didn’t hear the scratching noise at the corner of the room. It took at least ten seconds for me to grasp that something was inside the old wardrobe at the very far end of the attic. 

I wasn’t a scaredy cat; at least, I believed I was not. But when the scratching continued, I jumped on my feet, turning on the flashlight on my phone to shine some light at the dark corner of the room. I’m praying it was just a mouse or a cat—anything but the G word. 

“Hello?” I stupidly called in a small voice, thinking whatever it was would respond to my greeting. It took at least five seconds before the scratching against the wooden door of the wardrobe became a bit louder. 

I should have been running back to my room, screaming my lungs out for help, but instead, I took a step towards the noise, opening the wardrobe door slowly. I exhaled before rolling my eyes when I saw the tricolor cat I adopted from the streets a few days ago. I had to beg on my knees to my parents to let me keep the feline. 

I clicked my tongue, carrying the purring cat in my hands. “How did you get in here, you silly?” 

Closing the wardrobe door, the old hanging light bulb suddenly went out, and I could feel my heart pounding loudly in my chest. I hugged the kitten close as I fumbled on my phone to turn on the flashlight again, but the scratching noise came back before I could click the icon. 

And this time, it was louder than ever. It couldn’t be the cat I was holding. I could feel his fur in my hands, paw and nails—everything. It was not him who was making the eerie noise. 

The hair on the back of my neck was reacting to my fear, and the lump in my throat threatened to escape as a wail. 

The noise was coming from behind, not from inside of the wardrobe. 

I may excel in my studies and be the top student in our class, but I was a loser when it came to survival skills. I was a slow-witted, pathetic human being. The first thing that came to my mind was to hide in the wardrobe and close the door. 

Which I did. 

With my eyes closed, I hugged the kitten on my chest tighter, praying for my life rather than calling for help. I couldn’t count how many times I chanted every prayer I learned from being forced to go to church every Sunday with my family. 

I waited until the noise stopped before I could open my eyes. I was too frightened to move and could only peek through my lashes. It was too dark inside the wardrobe, and I couldn't see anything. I moved my foot to push the door a little bit, and I couldn’t help but sigh in relief when a light peeked through the door. 

I didn’t notice when my bare feet touched wet grass instead of the wooden floor of my parents' attic. I didn’t feel the summer breeze instead of cold winter air. I didn’t notice the bright sun and clear sky when, in fact, I clearly remember that it was past midnight when I went to the attic. 

Not until I instinctively hugged the cat who was supposed to be in my arms when I came into the wardrobe just to find out that he was nowhere to be seen. I turned around to look inside the furniture, but my furry companion was also not there. 

My eyes were wide as I slowly took in the unfamiliar surroundings. Empty lots and vintage cars that I could only imagine seeing inside a museum were now on the bumpy road. People were also wearing crisp suits, dresses, and fancy hats. 

A passerby would give me a weird look, analyzing my current state: in shock and in my Winnie the Pooh’s pyjamas. 

I was too terrified to move a muscle, and I couldn’t find my voice to speak out. I stood on my spot for an eternity, trying to convince myself that this was just a dream. 

It should be. 

When I finally found the courage to move, a hand grabbed my arm, preventing me from moving from my spot. Slowly, I looked over my shoulder and saw two uniformed personnel eyeing me from head to toe. 

“We received a report that an odd lady is wandering about.” The man with a badly shaved beard spoke, removing his hand from my arm and showing his baton, probably to intimidate me. 

“I—I’m,” I cleared my throat when my voice broke, “I’m not wandering about. I—I’m actually lost.”  

I assume the two police officers looked at each other before one of them nodded his head and asked me to follow him. I had no idea what was happening or where I was, so I followed what they asked me to. 

We arrived at a small complex with other uniformed personnel present. When I went in the door, they all looked at me warily. I could only hang my head in fear and embarrassment as I followed the man to a small room at the back. 

There was a small table and two chairs across from each other, and he sat on one of them. I stood by the door, waiting for an invitation to be seated. 

“You may take a seat,” the policeman extended his arm towards the chair before him. 

I obeyed and gently took a seat. I was fidgeting with the ring on my index finger. A few weeks ago, I bought it from the street of Hongdae and forgot to remove it before going to bed. 

“Before we start,” the policeman sighed, lacing his fingers together before putting them on the table, “may I ask what you are wearing?” 

I instantly inspected my clothes; it was just an ordinary pajama I bought online. It’s 100% cotton, but that’s not the point. 

“I—uhm... it's a pajama I ordered online, and they were on sale—” 

“I beg your pardon?”  

I felt my bottom lip tremble, too intimidated by the policeman interrogating me and had no idea what I was supposed to tell him. Helpless was an understatement to explain my situation.  

“It’s—uh... pajama?” 

He visibly fumed, pursing his lips as he eyed me with concern and, at the same time, exasperation. “You are unmistakably unwell, and I require to have knowledge of your origin for the reason we can have a conversation with your guardian by allowing you on loose.” 

I quickly shook my head, denying his claim that I was somewhat insane by just saying pyjama. “I’m not unwell, sir. I—I’m just… confused. I-I don’t know where I am.” 

The officer squinted his eyes, his lips forming a thin line. “You don’t know where you are?” 

I slowly nodded, unsure if I was saying the right thing at the right time. “Yes, sir.” 

He let out a breath, shaking his head not so subtly. “You are currently in Jung district. We spoke the same language then I deduce that you are from this country. Unless you are espionage?” 

Jung district? That means I was still within the area. But why were they assuming that I was unwell just because of my choice of sleepwear or using words that normal people didn’t particularly use? I had to use my last few brain cells to comprehend the word “espionage.”

Espionage? 

Wait—spying? 

My eyes widened, and I quickly shook my head. “N-no, sir. I’m not a spy or some sort. I’m just—I’m an ordinary student who goes to school at—” 

“Silence!” the officer roared, slamming his palm on the table that separated us. His voice and action echoed across the small room, making me jump from my seat and tremble in fear. 

I whimpered, my head hanging low. “I’m sorry.” 

The officer was quiet for almost a minute until I heard him sigh, making me peek under my lashes. He was shaking his head, hands on the table, as he stood up from his seat. “You need to be detained until the Chief gets here. You need to substantiate that you are not a spy.” 

“Wait—” I got up from the metal chair. The legs of the furniture made a screeching noise against the cement floor. I held on to his arm, which was a bad idea, as he immediately grabbed both my wrists and held me on the table.  

I cried out in pain when the side of my head was slammed forcefully on the surface of the table. “S-sir, please. I swear to God, I’m not what you think I am.” 

My choice of words might have been another bad idea, as he fumed and mumbled under his breath how I used God lightly. A tear escaped my eyes when I saw a handcuff that looked different from what I’d seen on television, the internet, etcetera. 

I was escorted to the corner of the room, where two separate prison cell exists. As I entered the bars, I saw someone in the other cell. He was sitting on the floor, hugging his knees and hiding his head in his folded arms. 

My sniffling went louder when the officer who handcuffed me slammed the cell door as soon as I flopped on the floor. My figure trembled as I instinctively hugged my knees like the man on the other cell.  

I closed my eyes, praying that this should be a dream, that I would wake up from it, and that it would be over the second I opened my eyes. However, before I could finish my mumbling, with my eyes still closed, I heard a subtle “psst” on my left.  

My left eye opened about a millimeter while shifting slightly to where the sound came from. The man I mentioned earlier was looking at me, though his head was still leaning on his folded arms.  

His hair was jet black, his eyes were droopy, his nose was exquisite, and his lips were perfectly pink and glossy. 

He cautiously placed his index finger on his lips, gesturing to be hushed. I slowly nodded, not knowing if I could trust my mouth to speak any longer—because the last time I spoke, it led me here. 

My confirmation made him smile. His eyes went to the officer on the other side of the room, who was busying himself with something on his desk. When the officer seemed not to care about our small movements, the man in the other cell turned his attention back to me. 

“Hey,” he carefully whispered, “what brings you here?” 

I shrugged, mirroring his position, leaning the side of my head on my folded arms. “Long story.” I couldn’t help the sigh escaping my nostrils.  

The man noticed my distress state and sent a comforting smile.  

He had the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen in my life. 

“What about you?” I decided to ask when he caught me staring at him longer than anyone should have. 

He also shrugged, heaving a deep sigh, “Long story.” 

I shut my eyes and bit my bottom lip to stop the tempted snicker that wanted to escape my mouth—he was mocking my response earlier. When I opened my eyes to look at him, he was already staring at me with a gentle smile on his face. 

My cheeks started warming from his gaze, and he probably recognized the pink shade on my skin, so he silently chuckled.  

We were just looking at each other as if trying to analyze the dancing orbs staring at one another. I was trying to figure out why I turned calm from just looking at him when in reality, I was an awkward person who would stutter at a simple “How’s your day?” at the grocery store. 

I opened my mouth to ask for his name, but a loud voice boomed around the corner. The man on the other cell snapped his head to the culprit at the same time as I did.  

A man was wearing a neat tuxedo, his almost grey hairline receding. He looked at the man I was talking to with an anxious look while he examined his state: sitting on the dusty cement floor, he looked dehydrated, and beads of sweat were visible on his forehead from the warm summer weather. 

The intruder turned his head to the officer who escorted him to where the tiny prison cells were—and he was also the one who banged my head on the table to handcuff me and the officer who was guarding the cells. “Do you know what you have done?” 

The two officers were both silent, their intimidating appearance slowly fading. 

“San,” the man on the other cell suddenly called. I turned to look at him, and his gentle smile was gone. He shook his head at the man in the tuxedo asking him to stop talking. 

The man in the tuxedo—or San, sighed in defeat, not before glaring at the two officers. “He’s the youngest son of General Byun.” 

I furrowed my brows; General Byun rang a bell in the deepest corner of my brain. I swear in my pathetic life that I heard that name somewhere. 

However, before I could rummage through my already messed-up brain, I heard the man on my left distantly sighing as he stood on his feet, dusting his pants. 

The police officers, who looked terrified, immediately ran to open the cell door on his side. They removed their hats and bowed their heads, apologizing for keeping him in there. He must’ve been from a noble family. 

I kept my mouth shut while watching the scene before me. I was not moving a single muscle, too scared that I might do something wrong again, which would lead to much more trouble. 

I watched him walk towards San, who was holding the door open for him with my lips pursed. 

I didn’t even get a chance to get his name. 

Before he could walk out the door, I noticed how tense he was and turned on his heels. His eyes met mine, somewhat with sympathy. He stood before the officers, whose heads were still hanging low, ashamed of what they had done with this man. 

“She’s coming with me,” the man announced, which made me gawk, and San looked at him like he suddenly had two heads connected to his neck. 

“B-but sir—the girl needs to be detained until the chief—” the police officer who slammed me on the table stammered, rejecting the man’s proposal to let me out of this prison cell and to go with him. 

The man just smiled, reaching out to the cell door and shaking it impatiently for the officers to open it. “I will let my father know about it. I’m confident that he will have a conversation with the chief should a problem arise.” 

San hastily walks towards the son of the General, holding his arm gently. “Sir, you cannot mingle with a criminal.” 

The man let out a psssh, waving his hand to San as if he uttered the most ridiculous thing in the world before nodding to one of the officers to open the cell door. “She was with me when I climbed the wall and managed to run away when you whistled like there was no tomorrow.” 

When both officers hesitated to open the cell door, the man shook the bars again, creating a loud rattling noise. The officer who slammed my head on the table scrambled to his feet, clumsily looking for the set of keys hanging on his pants. 

When the door finally opened, I was still unmoving on my spot, on the dusty cement floor, hugging my knees while I watched four men wait for me to get out. 

As I previously mentioned, my survival skill was set to zero. I may be academically competent, but I knew nothing if it was unrelated to my studies. 

That was a huge problem. I know. 

My friends in school were trying to help me cope with the outside world. However, the sources have been limited as I was only allowed to get out of the house if it was for school matters, or chores. I had to beg my parents to let me go out with my friends on weekends. 

I probably took a while, lost in my thoughts, when the man held out his hands, sending me his gentle smile again. “Come?” 

Sparing my last functioning brain cell, I got on my feet, my hand reaching out to his. When my palm touched him, a smile slowly spread on my lips. My anxiousness gradually faded, replaced by a gentle breeze that soothed my nerves. 

San walked in front, the police officers trailing just a few steps ahead as they accompanied us to the off-white bumpy vehicle parked by the curb. 

As the officers bowed their heads for the trouble, San opened the door, and the man still holding onto it tugged my hand. The corner of his lips quirked up as I looked at him with round, probably scared eyes. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured me, his thumb unconsciously rubbing a comforting circle on the back of my hand. “I will just send you home safely.” 

Relief crashed through me, and I believe he noticed it because he chuckled huskily.  

Once I was seated in the leather seat of the vehicle, I realized that he was still holding my hand. I smiled, a bit awkward when I tried to slip off his hold. 

“Oh,” he gasped when he realized what I was doing, “my apologies.” 

His touch lingered on my skin when I removed my hand from his hold. Embarrassed, I placed it on my lap, fiddling with my fingers, waiting for him to speak. 

I heard San clearing his throat in the driver’s seat, waiting for an instruction from the man beside me. The latter turned his head to look at me, and I was instantly allured.  

“Where to, my lady?” 

I ignored the blush from the way he addressed me, shifting my attention to San, who was waiting for a direction of where to drive me. 

San scrunched his forehead when I recited my address and the landmark near my house. Nevertheless, he started the vehicle and drove off the curb. 

My palms started to sweat when I looked out the window. The establishments on the road that I knew by heart were not there. Instead, there was soil and tall grass all around. 

“Apologies, madam,” San met my eyes through the rear-view mirror, “but the road you referred to does not exists I believe.” 

“H-huh?” Was all I could mutter before the man beside me clicked his tongue in annoyance. 

“And could you enlighten me as to why you did not tell it beforehand?” the man beside me huffed. His gentle exterior had faded, and he had turned to show his authority. 

“S-sir Baekhyun, I—” 

Baekhyun. 

The man’s name was Baekhyun. 

“She’s already terrified, San,” Baekhyun explained. “The last thing I want to happen is for her to regret coming with me.” 

Unfortunately, I had the cheek to blush at his words, though I managed to ignore that my face was likely crimson red. “I—it’s fine,” I muttered awkwardly. The interruption made Baekhyun turn his head in my direction. 

I gave him a tight smile before asking San to pull over so I could get out of the vehicle and familiarized the surroundings to find the correct path to my house. 

Baekhyun followed my suit when I stepped out, his shoe wear gravelly strides over the pebbles on the ground to walk beside my figure.  

I was starting to lose my mind when I realized that the area was just grass—no houses or buildings. It was pure, empty land. 

“Holy shit,” I mumbled under my breath and was already on the verge of crying. 

Where the hell am I? 

“Holy—what? I beg your pardon?” 

Baekhyun was eyeing me concerning how I was yanking my hair out of my scalp, also probably saying things I wasn’t supposed to say... again. 

However, it wasn’t long until his fingers circled on my wrists, pulling them away from the strands of my hair. I let my muscles relax, slowly unclutching my fingers away. 

That made Baekhyun smile. He nodded his head, “We’re alright. You're alright—you’re safe.” 

“Sir?” San’s voice interrupted the scene, though it went unnoticed by Baekhyun, who was still looking intently at me. 

“Speak to me?” His hand that was holding my wrist travels to my palm, wrapping his fingers around my hand. 

“I—” I choked on my words, having to take a deep breath to speak clearly, “are we in Jung district?” 

Baekhyun nodded his head, confirming my question. “Yes, we are.” 

Mentally crossing my fingers, I asked him another question and hoped that he would say the answer I wanted. “Jung district, South Korea?” 

That made him furrow his brows and look at me like I just muttered the craziest thing he could ever hear. “Were you referring to the southern part of Korea?” 

“Sir, I think we should consider going back to the police station,” San walked briskly to pull Baekhyun away from my reach. “She could be an enemy from that country and knows who you are.” 

“W-wait—” I screeched; my chest started to heave from the information that I was absorbing one by one. Espionage. Empty land. The old model of vehicles. Enemy. The southern part of Korea... 

“Do you mind telling me the date?” My mind started to get lightheaded, but at the back of my mind, I was hoping this was just another weird dream I would get from time to time. 

“Today’s the second day of September,” Baekhyun answered, snatching his arm from San, who tried to pull him away. “Are you feeling unwell, sweetheart?” 

Despite the nausea, I shook my head and continued to confirm my assumption. “Wha—what year?” 

Baekhyun’s frown deepened, clearly not comprehending the point of my questions. Despite that, he still answered my question, and fortunately, I could catch it before my vision blacked out. 

“Year 1920.” 

Oh, shit. 

My forehead felt damp pressure as I slowly regained consciousness. The muscles of my fingers were flexing on their own, and I took a deep breath before shifting my eyelids open. 

I blinked a couple of times before visualising the face hovering over my lying figure, eyeing my current state with concern. 

Baekhyun. 

“Hey,” he stopped me when I tried to sit up. His hand held my shoulder, pushing me back on the spring mattress I was lying on. Once the back of my head hit the soft cushion, he removed the damp cloth from my forehead, brushing the hair stuck on my skin. “Would you like some water?” 

I contemplated for a few more seconds before remembering the things that I’d been told before I passed out. I quickly sat on the mattress once again, ignoring the puzzled look on Baekhyun’s face when I hurried away from his touch until my back reached the wall. 

“I’m not dreaming?” I croaked, feeling my body tingled from another panic episode, “I—I’m supposed to be in the attic. Who are you—where am I?” 

Baekhyun sensed my fear. He withdrew his hands, which were trying to reach out, and instead raised them in front of him, showing me his empty palm before giving me an assuring smile. “Calm down, darling. I will not hurt you.” 

“I—” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, “who are you?” 

“My name is Baekhyun. Byun Baekhyun.” he answered calmly, his voice trying to soothe my nerves. 

“Baekhyun,” I repeated. Although I’d already heard his name from San, it felt nice to say it from my lips. “Where—where am I?” 

“We are in my house, though I have to apologize for bringing you in the staff’s quarter as I can’t be seen carrying an unconscious lady to my chamber.” 

I quickly scanned the room and saw a couple of bunk beds across the room. I had to bite my bottom lip when it trembled. “And you said that it’s year 1920?” 

Baekhyun nodded his head, stating the obvious. “Is everything all right? Speak to me. I could help.” 

“I’m—” I snivelled; my body trembled in fear. Baekhyun finally found the courage to reach for my hands, holding them in his.  

“Shush,” he squeezed my fingers, attempting to calm me, but when my body wouldn’t stop quivering, Baekhyun had done something that I wouldn’t expect him or anyone to do for someone you barely knew. 

He bent his neck so he could press his lips on my knuckles. His lips—they were damn soft, and it lingered on my skin even when he pulled away. 

When he brought his eyes to meet mine, he smiled, his eyes forming a crescent shape as he did. “I’m here. You’re all right.” 

Though slowly, I finally managed to nod as I was still hesitant about my surroundings. But somehow, despite being a stranger, he could shift every fiber in my body with serenity. 

“What’s your name?” Baekhyun climbed on the mattress, sitting a few inches away from me, and surprisingly, I didn’t hurry away this time. 

I uttered my name as I watched his orbs dance around my facial features. The way he repeated my name and sounded made me even more captivated. 

“Can you tell me where you are from?” Baekhyun continued, “I could send you home. Otherwise, I can send someone to look for your family.” 

“I’m—” I took a deep trembling breath so I would not have to break again—hopefully, “I’m going to sound crazy, if you want to throw me back to jail, that’s fine—I understand you, but—” 

“You’re rambling, love.”  

I was this close to passing out again from the endearment he kept using on me. I thought that having my name would make him call me out differently, but I was wrong. 

I leaned forward to his ear, and he immediately understood what I wanted to do. He tilted his head so I could reach him quickly. I whispered, “I’m not from here.” 

When Baekhyun leaned back to meet my eyes again, I expected him to look confused, but he looked calm and nodded his head. “I realize that.” 

His response made me widen my eyes. I gasped, “you do?” 

“Yes,” he replied, “I would always wonder on the road and this is the first I saw you—” 

“No!” I cried out, burying my face in my hands. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Baekhyun held the sides of my head, gently tilting my head up so he could see my face. “I’m sorry, it was not my intention to make you distress. But can you please clarify what you meant with your statement?” 

I thought San was just waiting on the other side of the door as he burst inside the quarters with my wail. “Sir?!” 

Baekhyun hissed, peeking behind his shoulder to glare at San. “I told you to not come in.” 

“No—wait, I’m sorry,” I hiccupped, touching Baekhyun’s arm to calm him down as he looked like he would tackle San any second—poor man. 

Baekhyun heaved a sigh before telling San to close the door behind him. The old man stayed by the door as Baekhyun waited for me to clarify my previous statement. 

“Baekhyun,” I started, and the man nodded, urging me to continue, “please don’t freak out, okay?” 

Because I’m already freaking out. 

He nodded his head again, this time interlacing our fingers together. 

“I was at the attic in our house when I heard this weird noise coming from a wardrobe, so I went to look for the source of sound. Then something weird happened, the light went out and the noise went from the wardrobe to whatever was behind me and it made me hid inside the wardrobe instead of running away, or screaming for help.” 

Baekhyun frowned upon hearing my choice of action—hiding in the wardrobe instead of running away. Nonetheless, he continuously nodded his head as he acknowledged my words. 

“Then I waited for a few minutes before opening the wardrobe, and when I stepped out, I was already here, in this place.” 

I glanced at San, who had a baffled expression like he was trying to analyze the information I’d just given, and Baekhyun, who kept looking at me with a frown on his face. 

“Say something,” I nudged his hand, which was holding mine, making him blink before clearing his throat. 

“Apologies,” he has an odd expression that I can’t read, “are you saying that you’ve been kidnapped? Are you from the other country?” 

Hearing the other country, San widened his eyes, and panic appeared on his face. “S-sir, I warned you, she might’ve been a—” 

“No–no,” I shook my head, quickly denying his allegation, “I’m not a spy, or some sort.” 

“In that case...” Baekhyun mumbled. My heart felt like it dropped when he untangled his fingers with mine. “What are you?” 

“I’m just an ordinary human being,” I explained, my voice getting wobbly. “I’m a citizen of this country—well, not in this year, but I am.” 

This time, San decided to speak up, “Not in this year?” 

I was never good at interrogation, especially when I could not voice my opinion in our home. If I did, my parents would never fail to invalidate my emotions. 

I didn’t even know I was already crying until Baekhyun tried to wipe my cheek with his fingers. I automatically leaned away from his touch, and I think that confused the man as I was not rejecting his advances until now. 

“Just let me go,” I croaked, my eyes pleading to Baekhyun as I told him, “I promise that I will not bother you any longer, or talk about how you helped me out of prison, just—please...” 

The quarter was silent for a few minutes, and my heavy breathing and my sniffling could be heard across the room.  

“Where will you go?” Baekhyun inquired, finally deciding to speak up. “If you don’t know where you are, where will you go?” 

I whimpered, “I—I don’t know. I’ll figure it out, I guess...” 

To say that I was disappointed was an understatement when Baekhyun nodded, moving away from the mattress so I could get out of it as well.  

When my feet touched the floor, that was only when I realized that I was bared foot all along. There were already scratches on the soles of my feet from walking since I got here, but I ignored the stinging pain and continued to walk out the door. 

I was pretty lucky I didn’t bump into someone on my way out. I sneakily glanced around the lot, and it was huge. The staff’s quarters were separated from the manor built in the lot's centre.  

It was already dark outside, probably because I had passed out, and it took a couple of hours before I regained consciousness. The night posts on the road were few and not as bright as they were in my time. The road was still dirt with pebbles. 

If this was near the Jung district I grew up in, I would know all the alleys and everything, but there were none. 

It took me approximately an hour and a half to walk before the police station could be seen, but instead of going straight to the cell again, I turned the other way, hoping to find the wardrobe. 

After another fifteen minutes of walking, I reached the old wardrobe again. My heart was pounding in my chest as my hand reached out to the knob, opening it. 

It was empty. What did I even expect? A magical light bursting out of the furniture? 

I was standing on my feet, unmoving. I was slowly realizing and analyzing all that stuff in my head. 

Was the police station the same institution that was built near our house? 

If that were the case, my feet would automatically bring me here by heart. This was where my house should be. 

I broke like a dam. Violent sobs came out of my mouth when I saw the empty lot. Even our neighbors’ houses were not there. As if to add salt to my wounds, the rain poured. Though I didn’t want to go inside the wardrobe again, I had no choice but to find shelter while waiting for the rain to stop. 

I’ve always been afraid of the dark. Since I was a kid, I always had a nightlight with me. My parents... they never bought me a new one. 

My father once gave me a small light bulb that I could plug directly into the outlet to have light at night, while my precious younger sister got a ballerina lamp. 

I remember my mother scolding me when the electricity went out due to bad weather, and I screamed from the top of my lungs when darkness illuminated my small bedroom. “You’re not a baby anymore! You need to toughen up! You’re scaring your little brother!” 

I was only eight at that time. 

I never have someone on my side. No one to look out for me. Except for my friends in school. They’ve been there for me. And they gave me an adorable duck nightlight as a gift when we were freshmen. I still have it, using it, and will forever treasure it. 

I was only used to my friends who were worried about my well-being; hence, when Baekhyun acted like he would save me from my miserable thoughts, it was awkward, but I let my guard down because he made me calm. 

I wouldn’t blame him for acting distant when I narrated what brought me here.  

Who in their right mind would believe I came from a wardrobe like the one in The Chronicles of Narnia, where the Pevensies hid and met Aslan? 

I somehow wished it would be like that. It’d be much easier to handle than being stuck in the 1920s when a war was going on, and everyone would identify you as a spy. 

Holy crap, what if they’d capture me as one? Would I be executed? 

I still wanted to go to university, get my bachelor's, master's, and hopefully PhD. 

Thousands of thoughts ran through my head at once. I clutched the side of my face while weeping in extreme anguish, regretting the days I wished I wasn’t with my dysfunctional family. 

Although I was nobody’s favorite in our household; I’d still take that over this. 

As I took another deep, trembling breath between my sobs, I felt a calloused, warm hand over my cold one. My shoulder jumped from the sudden contact; my head whipped up attentively.  

“Hey.” 

Baekhyun’s finger wrapped around mine as I whimpered upon recognising him. A sense of comfort rushed through my nerves even though I barely knew him. 

He tugged on my hand to make me step out of the wardrobe, and I simply set my feet on the muddy ground. I could feel his gaze as he eyed me with concern when I didn’t stop sobbing, though it was more of a hiccup. 

“What were you doing in there?” Baekhyun asked when I calmed down a little bit. I raised my head and looked him in the eye, seeing San a few steps behind him. 

I unconsciously squeezed his hand holding mine, and my heart couldn’t help but flatter when he tightened his hold, tugging his bottom lip with his teeth in anticipation of my answer. 

“This is the wardrobe I was talking about,” I peeked behind my shoulder to look at the strange furniture. “I swear to God, Baekhyun, I—” 

“Slow down,” Baekhyun cut my sentence off, “I apologize if I let you leave earlier, but I promised that I’m not going to hurt you and let someone hurt you.” 

I jutted my bottom lip, wiping my eyes with my other hand as I sniffed. Though I stayed silent, I found comfort in his words. 

Baekhyun gently called my name, his thumb consolingly rubbing at the back of my hand. “I apologize for what happened earlier. It was an unjustified action of mine. I should not have let a lady wander alone at this time of night.” 

I nodded, accepting his apologies as I tried to look him in the eye without making my orbs quiver in fear. “I swear, I—I’m not joking around.” 

“About what?” Baekhyun inquired, frowning. 

“About what I’ve said earlier,” I choked a sob, sniffling like a child. “I really am not from here. I came from this furniture—” I swung my hand to gesture at the eerie wardrobe behind me, and Baekhyun’s eyes shifted to look at the antique for a second.  

“Would you mind expounding what you meant, sweetheart?” he straightened his back as he bent to see my face clearly, though he was not that tall—just a few centimeters taller than I was. 

I think San also became curious about why he took a few steps forward so he could hear my explanation clearly. 

I pulled away my hand from Baekhyun, rubbing my face tiredly before exhaling heavily. I was preparing myself in case Baekhyun and San thought I was some sort of insane being or, worse, a spy from another country. 

“My house was supposed to be built in this lot,” I pointed my thumb over my shoulder again, indicating the empty lot behind me, “and this antique wardrobe was in our attic even before my parents purchased the house, and no one bothered to get rid of it.” 

Baekhyun nodded his head but said nothing, so I decided to continue. “As I've said earlier, I hid inside when I heard something and when I opened the door, I was already here.” 

I saw San from the peripheral, tilting his head and his eyes squinting on the empty lot I was referring to, but I tried not to look away from Baekhyun’s intense gaze. He was studying my face as if tracing any sign that I was lying. 

“I’m not lying, Baekhyun, I swear,” I croaked, noticing how his orbs wavered upon hearing his name coming out of my mouth. 

He blinked after a few moments, his tongue peeking out to moisten his bottom lip. “When you said that this is where your house was supposed to be and yet you’re not from here...” he exhaled through his nose, eyes closing for a second before looking directly into my eyes as if begging me to tell the truth. “Will you be able to shed light on that?” 

Finding courage that Baekhyun was finally willing to listen to me without the thought that he must’ve identified me as an enemy, I nodded my head, not before clenching my fingers from what I was about to say. 

“You said that we are currently in year 1920?”  

Baekhyun confirmed by nodding his head, and San, intently listening, nodded.  

I continued, “Before I went inside the wardrobe, I checked my smartphone—” I saw how Baekhyun scowled, but I didn’t bother explaining, though I took a note at the back of my head that it’d be for another conversation. “And I clearly remember, the date was 20th of February...” 

Baekhyun and San widened their eyes as if it were the most bizarre thing they’d ever heard in their entire life. 

But I bet that was not the oddest thing they’d hear tonight. 

“And the year was 2020.” 

I was back at the staff quarters in Baekhyun’s house. I was seated on the mattress, having been awoken earlier as I waited for San, whom I could hear talking to other staff about how I was his niece and working for the Byun family alongside them. 

I stared at my feet, all dirty and wounded from walking all over the place barefooted. However, I didn’t mind the stinging pain a bit. All I knew was how my heart was lightened up when Baekhyun said that he’d take care of me and instructed San to take me in while we looked for an answer on how to return to where I came from—originally where I came from. 

“Do you believe me?” I whispered while sitting beside him inside their vintage vehicle while San drove us back to Baekhyun’s house. 

He looked at me puzzlingly at first, making my heart feel like it dropped to my stomach, but it quickly vanished when he smiled gently. “One thing my grandmother told me when I was still a child that remains in my mind up until today and that is: To believe the impossible.” 

I heard San calling my name from the door, cutting my thoughts from an earlier event. I looked up from my feet as he stood by the door with a basin and towel. 

“Sir Baekhyun asked me to give these to you,” San walked beside the mattress as he set the basin with warm water and handed me the towel. “He wants to apologize for not being able to give these to you himself. They can’t be seen here, particularly when other workers are finished in the main house.” 

I gave San a kind smile, lifted my feet from the floor, and soaked them in the warm water. I sighed in relief when my aching muscles and skin touched the warmth.  

“Thank you, San. And don’t worry about it. I’m more than grateful that you let me stay here, and that’s more than enough.” 

I hurried to the side when San asked if he could sit beside me. He plopped himself, staring ahead, seemingly in deep thought as I waited for him to ask questions that I knew he was keeping in, as Baekhyun could be pretty scary when he was around him. 

“Is it improper of me to ask you if you really are from the future?” he inquired. His voice was low and quiet as if he didn’t want anyone to hear our conversation. 

I smile sadly, my index finger picking on my thumb—a habit I have had since childhood when I’d be too scared or nervous. “I also couldn’t wrap my head about it.” I tried to cover up my nervousness with an awkward laugh, but it failed. It just sounded like I was about to pee my pants any minute now. “Is it improper of me to wish that this is just a dream?” 

For the first time I’ve met San, though it wasn’t that long, he chortled, and it made me beam, flashing him a toothy grin. 

“What does the future look like?” San asked before turning his head to the side to yawn. I looked at him fondly. He was such a hardworking man, especially for someone like Baekhyun, who was strict with his employees. 

I shrugged, lifting my feet from the basin to wipe them with the towel I had been given a while ago. “There are no flying cars, don’t worry.” 

My response made him cackle. He wiped his teary eyes with his hand, shaking his head while calming himself down. “I apologize if what I’m about to say would be inappropriate. However, I have not thought that you are hilarious from the way you cowered in fear when talking to Sir Baekhyun a while ago.” 

I scrunched my nose, “I’m an awkward person to talk with, but I don’t know... I feel comfortable with you. Though you really did give me a fright when you claimed that I was a spy.” 

“I apologize for that Miss, I—” 

“No worries,” I shook my head, cutting him with an unnecessary apology. “But yeah, Baekhyun was obviously caring and kind, but could be quite intimidating, not the bad kind of intimidating, but you know—” 

“He really is,” San agreed, nodding his head, probably to not make me feel wrong from talking about his employer. “But he’s a good man. He was just raised to be stern, although he can be mischievous on occasions. Do you want to know why he was in the prison this afternoon?” 

I was dying to know and glad I didn’t have to ask anyone about it. I quickly nodded, signaling San to tell me what had happened. 

“Sir Baekhyun did not agree to meet the lady his mother was forcing him to marry—” Oh, boy... if I said that I didn’t feel anything upon hearing that information, I’d be a liar. “Consequently, he ran and hid for the whole day. He came back in the middle of the day and rather than coming through the gates, he climbed on the wall at the back of the main house to furtively get to his chamber.” 

I hummed as an answer as I could not form a proper sentence to acknowledge his words. Though I had no relation with Baekhyun, it felt weird having some sort of connection, unconsciously, towards him. 

Given my lack of response, I thought San would end the day and retrieve me to his room as it was getting late, but he must’ve been that interested in the idea of me being from their future. 

“What is a smartphone?” 

I felt my lips spread a wide smile as I explained something I was passionate about. I’d love to discuss the technology that will have developed a hundred years from now. It was late, but I didn’t mind. 

It was going to be a long night. 

The next few days, I slowly grasped the routine of working for the Byun family. It was exhausting, as there were three separate houses, though I only attended the staff quarters and the guesthouse. 

The guesthouse was mostly occupied by relatives and associates from other cities, whom I was informed to stay away from. 

I haven’t seen Baekhyun since he decided to take me in and delegate my well-being to San, who was probably the friendliest and most understanding person I’ve ever met in this dimension—what I liked to call it, secretly. 

At first, I was downhearted that Baekhyun didn’t reach out to me or even send a message to San like he did the first night I came here. Still, when San advised that Baekhyun was in trouble about the marriage stuff with his mother’s friend’s daughter, I slowly came to realize that I was just someone whom he helped and he had other things that he needed to take care of. 

“How old is he?” I asked San when I followed him to the garden built at the back of the main house. It was late afternoon, and I had nothing to do except follow San around like a good niece. “I mean—if you don’t mind me asking.” 

San flashed me a kind smile before inspecting a Gloriosa Daisy bed to ensure the gardener did his job correctly. I also learned that San had been the butler of the Byun family for almost twenty years. “Sir Baekhyun had just turned twenty last May.” 

I nodded my head, my lips forming an O shape. “He’s older than me as I expected, but we’re almost the same age.” 

“It’s impolite to ask for a lady’s age, thus my lips will be sealed.” 

I laughed at San’s statement. My booming voice echoed across the empty garden. The old man’s eye crinkled in delight upon seeing my reaction. 

“I’m eighteen, San.” I told him my age anyway. I shrugged my shoulders when he looked at me like he was expecting me to be twelve or something. “Anyway, isn’t twenty too young to be married? Or is it normal in the olden days?” 

San grimaced at my choice of words but laughed nonetheless. “It is indeed young to get married at such age, but it’s considered as norm, particularly to prominent families.” 

I was about to respond to San’s statement when my eyes travelled to the main house. There was a large window facing the garden, and there he was, Baekhyun, standing inside the house. He was wearing a white dress shirt as he stared at us in the distance. 

I raised my hand and subtly waved at him, a tight smile on my lips. San realized the absence of my response, so he turned his head to see what other things caught my attention. 

He immediately bowed his head upon seeing Baekhyun inside the house, looking at us blankly. Baekhyun didn’t even bat an eyelash to San and kept his eyes on me before turning his head away and walking off from the window. 

I sighed dejectedly, turning to San, who just shrugged his shoulders. “Sir Baekhyun is having a difficult time with the arrangement he’s requiring into.” 

I nodded understandingly, starting another conversation with San, who instantly shifted his focus to the topic I was discussing. 

I felt bad complaining about my life situation when Baekhyun, who was undoubtedly a good person, was forced to do things against his will. I understood that we probably wouldn’t be able to talk for quite some time or until San and I find a way for me to get back where I came from. 

I never thought that that would be the last day Baekhyun would stop distancing himself away. 

I have been awoken by soft knocks inside the quarter, where I have been staying for a week. It was the smallest room, but San defended that they preferred me to be alone instead of mingling with other household employees. They would instead not take the risk.  

I truly understand, though, and I honestly don’t mind. I also have the smallest bedroom among my siblings, so it didn’t matter. 

Squinting my eyes, I propped on the mattress using my hands as I peeked at the mantel clock on the bedside table. It was two in the morning. 

San had never knocked this early to instruct me on a chore, so I was confused. What could he possibly need to wake me up in the middle of the night? 

Nonetheless, I grumpily threw my body out of the bed after lighting up a lamp before walking to the door to open it. 

“Hey.” 

I was half-asleep and wasn’t prepared to see Baekhyun, in his sleepwear, standing on the other side of the door. His closed fist was raised in the air, and he was about to knock on the wooden door again. 

I blinked several times, trying to get the sleep away from my eyes when I heard 'sBaekhyun's melodious laughter again after days of not interacting with him. 

“Did I wake you up?” His husky, deep voice made my insides do some flips.  

I shook my head, opening the door a bit wider so I could step out. “It’s okay...” 

I felt his eyes on me for a while, and when I found the courage to look up to his face, his lips formed a smile, eyes crinkling as he did. “Do you mind coming with me for a bit?” 

Without any hesitation, I nodded, closing the door behind me as I followed his steps outside. It was summer, but at night, the breeze was slightly cooler than during the day. 

We walked for almost ten minutes until we reached the garden at the back of the main house, where Baekhyun had seen San and I talking in the afternoon. He led me to the hedge maze on the further side of the lot. 

“Don’t worry,” Baekhyun suddenly chuckled, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked up to him with wide eyes, not knowing what he meant by the unexpected assurance. “These shrubs are not that tall. You can scream for help if you think I would be doing something inappropriate.” 

I opened my mouth to deny his assumptions of my thinking, but no words came out. Hence, I just waved my hands desperately.  

Baekhyun’s eyes twinkled as if he was adoring every reaction of mine. He shook his head and turned on his heels to continue walking in the labyrinth. 

“How are you doing?” he inquired, looking ahead of him. 

I glanced at his side profile, pursing my lips, when I noticed the bags under his eyes. “I’m doing alright... I guess. San has been helping me a lot.” 

Baekhyun nodded his head, a tight smile on his eyes, and something irked me when it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m glad to hear that. I apologize if I’m not around these days.” 

“Oh—no, no,” I laughed nervously, scratching the side of my head as I tried to think of a better response to that. “I—I’m thankful enough to you for letting me stay here. That’s—that’s... uhm... more than enough. You don’t need to apologize.” 

Baekhyun darted from my eyes to my lips, which I nervously bit. When I cleared my throat, he blinked like he was snapped out of his trance. He forced a cough, chuckling awkwardly. He tipped his head to the side, asking me to walk beside him. 

“Say,” Baekhyun murmured, our footwear making a pat sound against the ground. I peered on my side to let him know that he had my attention. “Hundred years from today, does people, even then, are being imposed on what they should be doing—or who they should be with?” 

My lips automatically turned downwards, knowing his situation from San. I sighed before shrugging my shoulders. “Well—it’s different. Rich and influential people still do have those circumstances, but they have a bit more freedom, I think? People have become more open on different status in life, culture, education—that kind of stuff.” 

Baekhyun heaved a sigh upon hearing that, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty. I could’ve just said yes to make things livelier, but that would mean I’d be lying. 

“Then I can take for granted that you have the benefit of freedom?” he asked, his tone a bit playful to lighten his damp mood. 

I crinkled my nose, wrapping my arms around my figure when a cold breeze passed. “Don’t get me wrong, I came from an extremely ordinary family, but no, I do not have the pleasure of enjoying any kind of freedom.” 

Baekhyun scowled, his steps coming to a halt before turning his head to glance in my direction. “Are you being arranged to someone as well?” 

I snorted, shifting my weight to my other foot. “I could barely go out of the house to hang out with my friends, what more on dating.” 

“Dating?” he breathed, uncertain of the word's meaning in my vocabulary. 

“Oh—” I gasped, murmuring a soft apology. “Dating is a term we used when someone would be going out—most often with the intention of evaluating each other's suitability as a partner in a future intimate relationship.” 

Baekhyun took a few seconds before nodding to acknowledge that he understood what I meant. “That’s what dating is...”  

I hummed and followed his steps when he continued walking on the path again.  

“Then you have yet experience dating, I presume?” 

His question caught me off guard, and I couldn’t think of a better response but to laugh awkwardly—inside my head, pathetically—my shoulders curling forward in embarrassment. How I wish... 

And I could only hope I didn’t say that out loud. 

But I think I just did... by just taking a glimpse of Baekhyun’s facial expression. He had a twinkle, almost mischievous, look in his eyes; his lips quirked up. 

“Anyway,” I smiled at him, feeling comfortable conversing with him when San assured me several times that Baekhyun was a good man and I should not have any doubt about him. “Is everything okay—are you alright? Not that I mind, but is there any reason why you called me at this time?” 

Guilt flashed through my nerves again when his shoulder visibly deflated as he sighed. Why do I always have to say the wrong thing at the wrong time? 

“I was worried about you, to tell you honestly,” Baekhyun quavered, tilting his head to look at the stars in the dark sky. “I feel terrible that I have not reached out when I was the one who told you to stay here.” 

I smiled sadly, my hand itching to pat his shoulder, but I decided to keep my hands to myself. “You don’t need to worry about that, I’m doing just fine. It’s sad that we have been trying to get me back to my time to no avail, but San has been taking care of me like I’m his real niece or something.” 

I ended my sentence with a laugh to make things lighter, and I was glad that it made him smile. 

“That is delightful to hear,” Baekhyun beamed, and I couldn’t help but mirror his smile. 

We were just looking at each other, and our orbs danced at one another’s features. Unknowingly, he raised his hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. When his finger touched my cheek, I finally realized his action. 

At the same time, I tensed, not disregarding the heat that was starting to creep up from my neck. 

“You have a ravishing smile,” he commented; the tip of his finger lingered longer than it should’ve been on my skin, leaving a burning sensation on the largest organ of my anatomy. 

Baekhyun must have noticed my speechlessness as he retrieved his hand and tucked it on his back. He scratched the back of his neck with his other hand before pointing back to the staff quarters. 

“Let’s get you back. You’re freezing, and I don’t want you catching a cold.” 

I was a hundred percent sure that I was not freezing. In fact, my whole body was on fire. 

Ever since that night, I would expect a knock on my door in the middle of the night. I got used to it to the extent that I’d be pacing back and forth when the mantel clock would hit two o’clock, and he was not here yet. 

There was one time when it was almost three in the morning, and I thought he’d not come, so I decided to go to bed. I needed to be up early in the morning, or San would be in trouble—and I did not want that to happen. 

I was asleep when I didn’t hear him knocking on my door. It was when I felt fingers on my forehead, brushing my fringe, and then it travelled to the bridge of my nose. I let out a grunt before forcing my eyes to open. There he was, sitting on the edge of the mattress as he stared at me at my messiest state. 

I was so embarrassed that I instantly tried to turn my back on him and cover my face with a blanket, but his movement was swifter than mine. He was chuckling huskily as he fought for the blanket from my hands. 

“Why do you shy away, my little dove?” 

I’ve gotten used to the nicknames he used every time he saw me. At first, I would blush like mad and stammer. Though now, my face still flushes, I somehow manage to live with it. 

It was another night of strolling with Baekhyun. He was slowly getting bolder as he suggested walking outside the hedge maze and sitting on the ground around the bed of flowers. 

My arms hugged my knees, and I stared straight ahead while Baekhyun leaned on his arms as he looked at the dark sky. 

“Darling?” 

I hummed, leaning the side of my head on my folded arms to look at him. Without tearing his eyes away from the sky, he inquired, “Would you like to dance?” 

My brows furrowed at his sudden request. Nevertheless, I got up on my feet and dusted my bottom as I held my hand out for him to take. He had a broad smile as he took my hand in his, hoisting him from the ground as well. 

“I don’t know how to dance, but I’d say yes anyway because I know you’ll bug me for the rest of my life if I rejected your offer,” I grumbled, playfully rolling my eyes before following his lead. He had a hand raised in the air for me to take, and a hand was positioned on my waist. 

Baekhyun laughed at my sentiments, “I’m still astounded on how you were this adorable little sheep I’ve saw in the prison to becoming a lioness who would pounce on me when she gets a chance.” 

I mumbled an apology when I stepped on his foot. I gave him a stinky eye at his metaphor but couldn’t stop the bashful smile on my lips. “I told you, I’m awkward at first, but I’m talkative when I get comfortable.” 

A gasp escaped my lips when his hand on my back pulled me closer to his chest. Baekhyun leaned his head on my temple as he continued to lead the dance. We swayed slowly and gently; I could feel his heartbeat on my chest, his breathing in my ear. 

Finding comfort in our position, I courageously leaned my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes when both arms tightly wrapped around my figure. 

“Please tell me I’m not the only one whose feeling it,” Baekhyun whispered, his nose buried in my hair. 

Since the first day... I’d like to say. But instead, I just wrapped my arms around his torso, nodding my head to confirm his words. 

I reluctantly pulled away when Baekhyun loosened his arms. When I tilted my chin to peer at him, he slowly leaned, and I thought he would smash his mouth on mine without thinking—but I was glad he didn’t. To be honest, I was not ready. 

“Pardon me,” he pursed his lips, scooting his face a few inches away from mine when he saw my widened eyes. “I’m certain that you are the only thing that fills my head these days... and it’s insane.” 

“Why—” I cleared my throat when my voice cracked, “why me? I’m not—” 

“Why not you?” 

I squealed when Baekhyun, who must’ve lost control, briefly dived to place his lips on my left cheek. It was short, but his soft lips left a tingling sensation on my cheek.  

Why not me? I have no idea. I’ve never been someone else’s choice before. I’d always be left out. To say that this was strange is such an understatement. I truthfully don’t know how to react nor know what to say. 

Baekhyun nudged my cheek with the tip of his nose to snap me out of my trance. He looked at me worriedly as he pulled away and held my face in his hands instead. That didn’t help my racing heart as I was fully aware that he could now see my crimson-red face, and most probably, my ears were blushing as well. 

“Would you like me to give you some time to think?” 

Dumb-founded, I nodded my head as I could not find myself to utter any word. I couldn’t be more thankful when Baekhyun smiled and walked me back to the quarters with his hand still on the small of my back.  

I was wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. 

San knew what happened, and he was skeptical when he asked what I’d been doing, saying that I had been yawning for the whole day. I stuttered, trying to find an excuse for my lack of energy. 

“I never doubted that you came from the future, but you are clearly being dishonest right now, Miss.” 

He looked so disappointed that I had no choice but to tell him the truth: that Baekhyun had been knocking on my door in the middle of the night for a quick stroll around the manor, and what had happened with his employer's son. 

San looked so shocked that he did not expect my answer. “You’re bluffing.” 

I chewed my bottom lip and sighed, “I wish I am.” 

I followed him around the guest house again. A few staff members were dusting the place, as someone would visit the Byun family in a few days.  

San had to go to the corner and grab a chair to sit on. “This is going to be a disruption. Sir Baekhyun, he—he needs to obey his mother’s order.” 

I pursed my lips before nodding my head. “I know, San—I know, and I also need to go back to where I came from. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve helped me a lot, but this is not where I belong.” 

San nodded understandingly; his fingers rubbed his temple as he thought. Before we could even say another word, we were startled when the staff in the area could be heard fussing. 

I peeked over my shoulder and saw Baekhyun walking in the door. A neat dress shirt and a waistcoat adorned his torso, and black slacks on his bottom.  

My eyes automatically widened, my head snapping in San’s direction, who looked surprised simultaneously, in panic as I was. But unlike me, San quickly stood up from his chair, bowing his head in respect to Baekhyun. 

I forgot I was supposed to be an employee and was about to walk away to pretend I was busy dusting a piece of squeaky-clean furniture when San grabbed my arm, forcing me to bow my head. I did, exaggeratedly, which was embarrassing as heck. 

It was the first time I saw him during daylight since I met him at the police station. He looked unbelievably dashing. 

“Sir Baekhyun,” San greeted him. His voice was professional like he didn’t just scold me for sneaking out with one of his bosses. “Is there anything I can help you with?” 

Baekhyun didn’t even smile when he pointed his finger directly at me. “I need her to come with me for a moment.” 

My head whipped to San’s direction, shooting daggers on the side of his head with my eyes as if to beg him not to let me go with Baekhyun, who freakin’ stole a kiss on my cheek, sniffed my hair, and made my stomach do all those gymnastics shit my younger sister loved doing. 

All the other staff looked so surprised, but instead of looking suspicious, they looked worried that Baekhyun was asking for me, probably thinking that I had done something that got on his nerves. 

San looked hesitant for a second or two before nodding his head with a smile on his face. “Right away, Sir.” he placed his hand on my shoulder, pushing me gently to walk in Baekhyun’s direction, who was already holding the door open for me to follow him. 

I kept my chin dipped as I followed him to the staff’s quarter. He opened a door where cleaning materials were placed and closed the door behind him after he checked that no one followed nor saw us. 

“Did I—did I do something wrong?” I stammered; my voice was so small as I cowered down by his intense gaze. 

I watched him put his hand inside his waistcoat, fishing out a familiar machine from its pocket. I immediately gasped, snatching my smartphone from his hand. “W-where did you get this? Oh, my God, I thought I didn’t bring it with me.” 

Baekhyun’s stoic face finally faded and was replaced by the smile I was familiar with. “You dropped this when you went unconscious by the road. I had forgotten that I had this with me. I apologize, love.” 

I gulped at his endearment choice for the day. I froze on my spot, not moving a muscle, and I bet he noticed it. He chuckled huskily; his hand went to pat my head.  

Clearing my throat, I forced myself to look at his eyes, “Thank you for this. But you could’ve just waited until everyone’s asleep before giving this back to me.” 

Baekhyun just shrugged his shoulders, and a smirk formed on his face. “Perhaps it was a rationale to see you.” 

I playfully rolled my eyes, shaking my head, slowly getting used to his advances.  

“You looked beautiful under the moonlight, but you look absolutely stunning when the rays of sun are kissing your skin, love.” 

I shook my head, my lips caught between my teeth to prevent myself from smiling too widely. I shifted my attention to my phone, my heart clenching for a second when I pressed the button on the right side. The thought of it not working was about to kill me.  

I took a sharp breath when the screen lit up. The infamous Bited Apple logo appeared on the screen. I peeped under my lashes to see Baekhyun’s reaction, and his mouth was open as he stared at the device in my hand. 

“Wha—what is that?” he gawked, taking a step forward to look at the device closely, our arms brushed at the proximity.  

“It’s a smartphone,” I answered, showing him the screen when it finally loaded to my lock screen. I was not even surprised when the signal showed No Service. Like, hello? 

“It’s like a combination of computer and a telephone,” I explained, showing him the contacts I saved. “You can also use this for taking pictures, videos, and stuff.” 

I raised my head to look at him, and his expression indicated that he was having difficulty understanding what a smartphone was all about. 

I scrunched up my face, feeling guilty to feed him such information when he was probably not familiar with those functions in the first place. I knew a mechanical computer was invented in 1822 but was not digitalized until 1942. So, I wouldn’t blame him for looking lost. That was my bad. 

I opened the camera app and quickly snapped a picture of him. The photo came out a bit blurry. I grinned widely before showing him the image, and his jaw dropped. 

“This thing has been invented?” he gasped, thrilled to see a photo of him within seconds. 

“Yes!” I squealed; my head turned to glance at him, only to find out he was already looking at me. 

My smile slowly faltered when I watched his orbs dart from my eyes to my mouth. I gulped audibly, not finding the will to scoot away. “I—I thought chivalry is a must in the olden days?” I breathed on his face, but he didn’t even flinch.  

“I have never done this before,” he responded, inching a bit closer, making me hold my breath and my hands instinctively hold on his sides. “I have never felt something like this before.” 

Baekhyun exhaled through his nose before closing his eyes and opening them again when he leaned his forehead on mine. “I have been drawn to you since the day I saw you at the police station. I have been trying to elucidate why this is happening to me. You are the first person I would love to see in the morning, and the last person I would love to be with before I go to bed.” 

It was a short brush of our lips, but I felt the spark when they touched. A flash of warmth was spreading through my whole body.  

I let out a deep, trembling breath when Baekhyun’s hand travelled to my back, caressing it over the fabric of my blouse before it went to cup the back of my neck. It was clear that he wanted to smash his mouth on his mind, but it was apparent that he was stopping himself from doing so. 

“Say something,” he fretted, nudging my nose with his. 

“Baekhyun, I—” I croaked, “what do you want me to say?” 

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but his eyes still looked at me gently. “That you feel the same way... do you?” 

My lower lip quivered, torn into two things: If I’d be honest and say that I was indeed attracted to him, and even though I felt the same way, I still needed to return to where I originally came from, that I didn’t belong here. 

“Baekhyun,” I whimpered, “I need to get home... my family—” 

“Stay here,” Baekhyun instantly responded, cutting me off; both of his hands cupped my cheeks, making me look directly at his orbs, “with me—stay here with me.” 

I pressed my lips together, contemplating whether staying would be a good idea. Will my family look for me? Will they even notice that I was gone for quite some time? Will they even care? 

“May I love you?” 

Without thinking much further, I nodded my head, a tear escaping my eye when I realized that I made an impromptu decision that would affect my entire life.  

Baekhyun broke into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen; he giggled breathlessly as his thumb caressed my cheek. He slowly leaned forward, tilting my head to get better access to my mouth. 

My friends in school told me that the first kiss would feel like butterflies in your stomach, but heck no, it felt like someone fired up fireworks in my nerves, making the tip of my fingers and toes curled from exhilaration.  

Baekhyun’s lips were soft. That was all I could think about initially, but when he started nibbling my pillows, I began thinking differently. He knew what he was doing, and he was good at it. 

I was a bit disappointed yet glad when he decided to pull away. I fluttered my eyes open, seeing how he looked at me with his lips all red and glossy. 

“I thought it was just going to be a peck,” I panted, rubbing my mouth with the back of my hand. “That was my first kiss, you know.” 

“Forgive me, my love.” Baekhyun had the cheek to laugh at my statement, dipping his head down to steal another kiss. “That was the closest to heaven as I will ever get.” 

San, once again, knew what happened. Not exactly what happened, but he had his eyes squinted when I came back to the guest house actually to help them clean the place. 

I avoided his eyes the whole time, but when we were done with the task, he asked me to stay behind. “I beg you to tell me that my thoughts are incorrect,” he pondered, and his jaw went slack when I let out a nervous laughter.  

I honestly thought that what happened would create such an unpleasant atmosphere, but gladly, nothing really changed—except for the fact that Baekhyun became more open to requesting to see me during the day. 

“Baekhyun—” I tried to push him away when I was asked to deliver a meal to his chamber because, apparently, he was not feeling well. It was true, though. He fell while riding a horse with his older brother and twisted his ankle. It wasn’t that bad, but he used it as an excuse to be pampered. “Someone might see.” 

It was the first time I entered the main house. It was huge, and having no sense of direction, I got lost several times. Fortunately, another staff member saw me struggling with a tray and seemed to be losing my mind. She was kind enough to point out Sir Baekhyun’s room. 

Baekhyun was able to walk, though limping; it wasn’t as bad as I expected. It had been three days since the accident, so I assumed he was already healing.  

That explained why he was able to jump off his bed when I knocked and asked permission to come in. He almost tackled my figure as soon as I set the metal tray with his food on the table near the floor-to-ceiling window. 

“May I have kiss, please?” he pleaded, almost batting his eyelashes at me. I turned my head side to side, as if someone was in the room, before leaning in for a quick peck. 

I was relieved when that seemed to satisfy his need. 

Often, though, he’d still knock on my door in the middle of the night. There were times when I’d be exhausted and unable to get up and open the door for him. Hence, I once told him that the doors in the staff quarters didn’t have some sort of lock, so he could come in directly to my room. 

He was hesitant at first, saying that someone might get the wrong idea, but then he remembered that only San knew about us. 

“I trust San,” I told him, hurrying on the mattress to give him space to lie down. “He won’t tell anyone.” 

Baekhyun hummed, shifting on his side, observing my tired state, droopy eyes, and hugging the blanket on my body. “I speculate that San already had the wrong idea. He has vivid imagination.” 

I let out a breathless laugh, tilting my head to look at him. The corner of his lips quirked up upon noticing my attention to him. I already knew what he was thinking, and it’d not be the first time he’d discussed it. “Let’s not give San’s receding hairline another reason to step back.” 

It was Baekhyun’s turn to laugh. However he didn’t even try concealing his boisterous laugh I had to cover his mouth with my palm. “Baekhyun!” I hissed, scowling at him. He nodded, fingers wrapping on my wrist to pull my palm away from his mouth. 

He kissed my knuckles, and I thought he’d put it back on my side, but he kept holding my hand in his hand and even placing our hands on his chest. “I will patiently wait, my love.” 

I smiled widely, inching closer to place my lips on his. I am glad to say that I finally got used to being affectionate and intimate with him. Although, we haven’t gotten that far yet. 

Baekhyun exhaled through his nose as he tangled his finger in my hair, grabbing the back of my head to tug me closer. I grunted before pulling away. He looked confused for a moment, but when he realized how deep I was looking into his eyes, his frown faded away.  

“Thank you,” I said under my breath. 

“For what cause?” 

“Everything,” I murmured. “I’ve always thought that I’d be unlove for the rest of my life. You’re the first who made me feel wanted.” 

Baekhyun knew my story regarding my family. He was surprised but did not say anything against them. Instead, he assured me that he’d never leave my side. “No matter when you need me, I will be there. I will never leave you. I will always come and find you.” 

His movements were fast. In a matter of seconds, his lips had crashed into mine. I was taken aback that my breath was caught in my throat, fingers clenching his back underneath the fabric of his shirt. 

My heart felt like it was going to jump out from my chest when his hand came in contact with my chest, squeezing my bosom. I sensed the lump in my throat; my hand went from his back to his face, pushing it away from mine.  

“Baekhyun—Baekhyun,” my voice was stern, trying to wake him up from the daze he had snapped out of. 

He closed his eyes, retrieving his hand away from my chest. “I’m—I’m sorry, that was not my intention.” 

I felt his panic, caressing his face,, which seemed to calm him down as he leaned his head on my palm. “It’s okay—you’re okay. I know you didn’t mean it. I was just surprised; you did nothing wrong.” 

“I did! I—” 

I shushed him, gathering the small amount of courage I had to place his hand on my chest again. Baekhyun widened his eyes, tugging his hand back, but I held it in place, smiling at him.  

“I’m sorry that I’m not ready to do it yet,” I smiled before drawing my lower lip between my teeth. “But this is okay, you can touch them—you can touch me.” 

Baekhyun was initially reluctant, but with a kiss on his forehead to let him know that I was confident, he started exploring my features as a woman.  

My sleep was long gone; my head was laying on Baekhyun’s chest as he buried his nose in my hair while we talked about things in our lives, mostly him asking about my life ninety-nine years from now. 

“I really thought people from the olden days were conservative,” I admitted, “no offense, though.” 

Baekhyun playfully snarled. His hand, which was on his back rubbing in circles, suddenly pinched my side, earning a shriek from me. “I really hope you would stop saying olden days. You are making me feel old when I’m only twenty.” 

I scrunched up my face, tilting my head to kiss his chin. “I mean, you’re probably older than my grandparents.” 

He rolled his eyes before pretending to leave the bed. 

“I’m kidding,” I laughed, pulling him back and hugging his torso like a bolster, tangling my legs with his. 

His hand automatically reached my back, resuming his previous action. “I do wonder what historians had written about our time. It’s normal to make love. I did it the first time when I was fifteen.” 

I bolted out from his touch, sitting up on the bed while I looked at him with wide open eyes. “Are you serious? I could barely order in a restaurant without stuttering when I was fifteen.” 

“It would be different in your time?” Baekhyun inquired, genuinely curious and ignoring the fact that he had just told me his sex life had started when he was fifteen.  

I cleared my throat, shrugging my shoulders. “I mean—my life was only between school and home. Others did the same as you, I think. I just—you know, assumed that it was marriage before sex in this century.” 

Baekhyun wriggled his brows on me, sitting up on the mattress. “Are you asking to marry me?” 

I gawked at him, grabbing the pillow at the edge of the mattress and chucking it to his face. “Excuse me?” 

He chuckled, snatching the pillow and placing it out of my reach. He asked me to lie down again, which I did, but not before sending him a glare. 

“What are people like in 2020?”  

I yawned, finally getting lulled from how Baekhyun massaged my scalp with his fingers as I lay on his torso, my face tucked in the space of his neck. “Almost the same, but we dressed differently, and people became creative in dyeing their hair.” 

I felt his lips on my forehead as I closed my eyes, scooting closer to his side if possible. 

“Government allowed people to dye their hair?” 

I grunted, “Even males dye their hair pink.” 

“A man with pink hair?” Baekhyun marveled, “who would do that?” 

“What?” I chuckled lowly; I was this close to dreamland. “I think it’s adorable. If possible, I’d dye your hair pink so I can recognize you anywhere I’d go.” 

I heard him scoff, hugging my body tighter.  

“No, thank you.” 

It wasn’t that long before San informed me that Baekhyun’s mother was suspicious of his son’s whereabouts. I was confused initially because Baekhyun had been staying in the manor since we’ve been together, but when San reminded me that the youngest son of Byun's family was a mischievous creature, that hit me.  

There had been idle talk among employees that their Sir Baekhyun had been having an affair with someone on the premises. Some employees would quickly turn their heads on me since they had been noticing Baekhyun would always ask for me, and some wondered who it might be. 

Instantly, I asked San for help with the situation, and he immediately told me that he would handle the employees’ whisper. “May I request that you two tone down? If you could pass it on to Sir Baekhyun, he won’t handle my suggestion lightly when I’d say it directly to him. I’ll talk to other maids about this.” 

Surprisingly, Baekhyun agreed when he came over to my room. He said that it would be our only choice to be together. He assured me that he would handle his mother and would find a solution to our dilemma. 

When things were getting better after a few weeks of not seeing each other, and his mother was finally forgetting Baekhyun’s odd behavior, I accidentally bumped with the, as San informed me, the chief of the police station where Baekhyun and San first saw me. 

I wasn’t supposed to be in the guest house, but one of the staff had eaten something terrible and was advised to rest for the rest of the day. As San was already occupied, I offered to cover her tasks while she rested. 

The chief was eyeing me like a hawk as if he was examining my face like I was some sort of criminal. To which I was identified the first day I arrived in this century. 

I still couldn’t get a hold of Baekhyun. Consequently, I asked San to deliver the message to him instead, as San was always in the main house for his duty as the main butler for the family. 

That night, Baekhyun finally knocked on my door at two in the morning. I opened the door wide to let him in before closing the door behind us.   

Baekhyun smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ears. “Hey.” 

Without wasting time, I told him what had happened with the chief and how uncomfortable it made me that someone outside the manor had recognized me. 

“Those two officers must’ve sketched my face and showed it to the chief,” I gasped, nearly choking a sob. “They probably didn’t believe it when you said that I was with you. They saw me idling near the wardrobe, Baekhyun! What if they—” 

Baekhyun shushed me by tugging my arm so he could pull me to his chest. He ran his fingers on my hair, knowing it would always calm me. “It’s going to be all right. I will talk to father once I get the chance and ask for help. Please wait for me.” 

Turned out that it was too late to ask for help. The chief came over the following day, going straight to the lady of the house: Baekhyun’s mother. 

My heart was beating so fast when San told me that Lady Byun was asking for me. I almost cried on the spot because I already knew what would happen. 

Despite having soft facial features, Baekhyun’s mother was terrifying. Her voice was stern, and her eyes were like those of a lioness ready to eat her prey anytime, and that prey was obviously me. 

My head was hanging low as I stood in front of Lady Byun sitting on a chair in the middle of a room. An employee was also standing in the corner with worried eyes on me. 

“Remind me to dismiss San for letting in a criminal in this household,” she said, her voice cold and void of emotion. 

Instantly, I shot up my head, looking at her with wide, pleading eyes. “No!” 

She raised her eyebrows at me, unable to believe that I just raised my voice. I quickly bowed my head to apologise, “I apologize, madam. I didn’t mean to shout. But San didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Are you saying that my judgement was unjustifiable?” she taunted. 

I shook my head, “T-that’s not what I meant, madam. I—I will take full responsibility and will leave the manor in an instant.” 

She scoffed, smiling bitterly. “You are aware that my husband is the General, am I correct?” 

I shut my eyes momentarily, letting out a deep trembling breath. “Yes, madam.” 

“And if the people heard about the Byun family letting a criminal on loose, do you know what would happen?” she argued, not letting me go quickly. 

I nodded, my eyes getting watery from the overwhelming confrontation I didn’t want to be in. “I—I understand very well, madam. I will surrender myself to the police. But please,” I croaked, forcing myself to tilt my chin to look at her in the eyes, “San didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Her eyebrows twitched. “If San is dismissed, I would like you to know that it’s your liability.” 

I raised my hand to wipe a tear that escaped my eyes, whimpering in agony. Everything was going so well. I finally accepted the vast possibility that I wouldn’t be able to go back to my time and spend the rest of my life here—with Baekhyun.  

Then this happened. 

San was frantic when he saw that I was being escorted by two police personnel. He tried to stop them, but when I gave him a smile that didn’t reach my eyes, I told him that it was okay and also thanked him for everything he had done for me. 

San called my name for the last time before I was asked to enter the police vehicle, and when I turned my head to him, the old man cupped his mouth as he teared up. I wept as I mouthed an apology for bringing him into this mess.  

The ride was filled with my sniffles, and the two officers were in silence as they listened to me cry. I didn’t even see Baekhyun before I got to be imprisoned for something I was forced to identify with. I wasn’t even able to say goodbye, at the very least. 

I just want to hug and kiss him and tell him that I'm sorry to leave when I promised him I’d stay. 

When the vehicle came to a halt, I waited until one of the officers would open the back seat door where I was seated. I was staring into space and moved robotically when I stepped out. 

However, before I could even take another step, I heard the stomping of footwear getting louder, like it was getting near where I was. I peeked over my shoulder and saw Baekhyun sprinting to reach my spot. 

The officers instantly tried to stop him from getting near, but I had no idea how it happened because the next thing I knew, my arm was hurting from Baekhyun’s tight grip, and my lungs were burning from dashing away from the officers who were whistling like mad as they chased us. 

Baekhyun had told me that he knew everything about the place, so I wasn’t surprised when he took a turn to a forest—trees around the area for more manageable hideout. We were both panting when we stopped running and being the most unathletic student back in school, and I sounded like I was fighting for my life. 

Baekhyun embraced me, and his musky scent instantly calmed my nerves. I started sobbing as I wrapped my arms around his torso, and I could hear him sniffing as well. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” Baekhyun kissed the side of my head, tightening his arms around me. “I did not expect the chief would talk to my mother.” 

I nodded my head understandingly. 

“Father is still out of town; I have not gotten the chance to ask for help. I’m sorry I was not there,” Baekhyun croaked into my ear, “I apologize, my love.” 

Before I could utter a response, we pulled away from each other when the officers' distinct voices could be heard.  

We continued to run to the other side of the forest. When we saw that we were at the edge of the forest and the road could be seen, Baekhyun wanted to turn around, knowing how dangerous it would be to be seen running on the main road.  

However, before I could follow Baekhyun’s steps, I heard a highly subtle purr of a cat. I stopped in my tracks, eyes scanning the forest to look for the familiar sound.  

Baekhyun called my name when he noticed I wasn’t following him any longer and grabbed my hand to continue our mission. 

“Baekhyun—wait—” I pulled him back, asking him to turn his voice down. “I could hear something.” 

He scowled but tried to focus on the background noise if there was indeed a cat. 

My eyes widened when a vivid meow, and a tricolor feline showed himself from behind a tree. 

It was the stray cat that I adopted! 

The cat looked straight into my eyes, as if trying to communicate with me. He remained unmoving for a while before walking towards the main road. 

“No,” Baekhyun tugged my arm when I stepped forward to follow the kitten. “The main road is not safe. We cannot risk—” 

“Baekhyun, that’s my cat!” I responded with a high-pitched voice. “We were both inside the wardrobe. I didn’t know that he was here.” 

He gritted his teeth, contemplating if he should let me follow the animal to the main road. With his jaw clenched, he exhaled through his nose, holding my hand as we walked to the main road and followed the cat’s steps. 

The tricolor animal was sitting in front of the wardrobe on the side of the road like he was waiting for me. His vast eyes were on me, and his tail was moving slowly. I stared at the cat for a few seconds until he jumped inside the wardrobe, where—surprisingly—the door was opened. 

He kept looking at me and then meowed when I didn’t move a muscle. Was he asking me to get inside the closet? 

I snapped out of my thoughts when Baekhyun squeezed the hand he was holding. I looked at him, and he had a sad smile, like he was also noticing how the cat was asking me to get inside the wardrobe. 

Am I going back to my time? 

“Wait—Baekhyun, no,” I choke a sob, “I promised that I’ll stay, I’ll be fine in prison—” 

“My love,” Baekhyun cupped my face, pressing his lips on my forehead. “It’s going to be all right. Your safety is my priority. I also promised that I would always come to find you, didn't I? Can you wait until then?” 

“Baekhyun,” I whimpered, nodding my head while hugging him tight, afraid that it would be the last time I’d see him once I got back to where I came from. “I love you.” 

He smiled sadly, placing a kiss on my lips. A tear escaped from his eye. “I love you, too.” 

I was a crying mess when we finally let go of each other. When I went inside the wardrobe, I looked at him for the last time, giving him a smile despite my tear-soaked cheeks. “Please don’t be in love with someone else,” I joked, playfully squinting my eyes on him. 

“Please don’t have somebody waiting on you,” he responded with a mischievous grin. 

I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from sobbing. I nodded my head, giving him a last smile before closing the door of the wardrobe. 

February 20, 2020, 02:00 AM, the date and time reads. 

I was still sitting inside the wardrobe with the door open when I felt my phone in my hand. I remembered that I had left it inside my room in the staff’s quarters. 

Was everything just a dream? 

But it was too vivid to be just a dream.  

Remembering the picture I took of Baekhyun, I opened my gallery to see if it would be there, but it was nowhere to be found. And when I examined my clothes, I was back in my Winnie the Pooh-printed pajamas. 

I cried myself to sleep that night, not because of my parents' constant fighting or the fact that no one came into my room to comfort me, but because I was slowly being convinced that it was indeed just a dream. 

Two years had passed, and I was about to finish my second year in university. 

I decided to major in Aerospace Engineering and minor in Physics. My parents weren’t opposed to the idea, especially when the word Engineering was present in my course. It was goddamn stressful, but I was having fun. I loved learning, which was one of the few things I was good at. 

I met new people at uni, but was still in contact with my high school friends. Due to our busy schedules, we rarely got to catch up. 

Wendy, whom I met freshman year, introduced me to her circle of friends. Her friends weren’t all nice, but they were usually bearable. So, I decided, why not stick with them? 

Irene, the oldest among us, scolded Chaeyoung when the latter, once again, winked at a guy who passed by our table in the cafeteria. 

“Do you really have to do that to every person you see who has a dick?” Irene hissed, grabbing Chaeyoung’s chin to make her look straight ahead. She was about to break her neck after following the guy she winked at. 

I peeked over my MacBook to see the chaos at our table. Though it wasn’t new since this usually occurs almost daily, it was still entertaining to watch. I shook my head before focusing to the case study I was working on. 

Chaeyoung groaned, slapping Irene’s hand away from her face. “Can you have me my little fun? I’m already stressed enough with schoolwork, please don’t add up.” 

Irene scoffed, rolling her eyes on Chaeyoung. “Please! I’ve never seen you read a single paragraph in your course.” 

“You did not just say that!” Chaeyoung dramatically gasped. “I do my part in studying, thank you very much. Just because I’m not a nerd like her, you would say that I’m not taking my studies seriously.” 

Without even looking up from the screen of my Mac, I commented, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” 

“That’s not nice, Chaeyoung,” Wendy clicked her tongue, glaring at the youngest at the table. 

Instead of apologising, Chaeyoung rolled her eyes, opening her smartphone to spend time on her precious social media profile.  

I smiled at Wendy, shaking my head to let her know that I didn’t take it to heart. At first, I was offended whenever Chaeyoung would call me a nerd or sometimes a pushover, but after spending time with them for almost two years, I could say that I got used to it. 

Seulgi, majoring in Performing Arts, came to the table panting as she ran across the hall. I passed her my tumbler while she caught her breath. “Thank you,” Seulgi hugged my head, a habit she had of hers. 

“So, guys,” Seulgi began, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand after she chugged the iced cold water in my tumbler. “I think I’ve got a date.” 

I gasped, abandoning my Mac momentarily to give Seulgi my full attention. Since I was the busiest among us when it came to studies, I would not always hang out with them and I I didn’t know all the details about their lives. 

I once heard from Wendy that Seulgi liked her friend. They’ve known each other since they were kids. However, as pessimistic as Chaeyoung was, I learned from her that this guy was not interested in any relationship. 

“Of course, I already asked him out,” Chaeyoung easily responded, rolling her eyes, when she was asked how she knew this detail. “He was cute, alright, but his friends are way more handsome. He’s just rich, so I asked him out.” 

Seulgi had been so afraid to confess her attraction towards this friend, but Wendy and I have been bugging her to do so. Irene... is just being Irene. Do whatever you want, she said. 

“And?” Wendy pressed on, eager to know the details from Seulgi. I nodded, smiling slyly to let her know that I was also interested to learn. 

“Well—it wasn’t like a date as in date,” Seulgi explained, chuckling nervously. “But since it was his senior year, there will be a small celebration in their house tomorrow. He asked me to come...” 

“That’s nice!” I squealed while Chaeyoung rolled her eyes. 

“I thought he really did ask you to spend the night with him or something.” 

Irene had to slap Chaeyoung’s arm so she could shut her mouth and stop ruining Seulgi’s moment. 

Chaeyoung whined, rubbing the spot where Irene hit her. “It’s true, though. I mean, good for you, Seul, but he doesn’t date! He told me himself.” 

That made me scowl, “Why is that, though? Previous bad relationship? Else, he swings for the same team.” 

Chaeyoung, the most exaggerated one she was, clapped her hands, catching the attention of other students. “I thought about that, too! I mean, his hair is pastel pink to begin with! And oh! I heard from someone that he believes that he’s a reincarnation of ancestor!” 

We rarely agree on things, but we were unstoppable when Chaeyoung and I do. Not when I was interested in after-life matters. 

“Okay—okay,” Seulgi laughed, raising both hands to stop me and Chaeyoung from uttering another nonsense. “He is not gay, alright? And he just has his beliefs that we all need to respect. He was named after his ancestor because of family matters, there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

I jutted my bottom lip, and guilt crashed through me. “Sorry, Seul. I got excited.” 

Seulgi patted my head to let me know that she didn’t mind. Instead of apologizing, Chaeyoung made a face, turning her focus back to her phone. 

“Anyway,” Seulgi continued, “would you guys like to come?” 

Irene didn’t even waste a second to shake her head. She didn’t like being around men. “No, thanks.” Chaeyoung pretended that she didn’t hear Seulgi’s offer. That leaves Wendy and me in the fraction.  

“I mean,” Wendy shrugged, “I’ll go. I don’t really have anything and since you asked, I’m assuming you need someone to be with?” 

Seulgi nodded her head eagerly, faking a cry for Wendy. “Thank you, Wen! You really are my friend.” 

I thought I was safe since Wendy had already said that she’d go with Seulgi, but when I felt two pairs of eyes burning at the side of my head, I let out a sigh, shaking my head. “I have a case study to work on.” 

Wendy made a face, closing the lid of my Mac, “Yeah, a case study that isn’t due in five weeks.” 

Seulgi held my arm, giving me a pleading look. “Please, please. I’ll buy you coffee. I need all the support I can get. This would be a once in a lifetime chance, please.” 

Sighing in defeat, I nodded, finally agreeing to whatever it may be. “Iced white chocolate mocha with eight pumps of mocha sauce, stirred whipped, and extra caramel drizzle.” 

“That’s not a coffee, that’s diabetes in a cup.” Seulgi commented, earning a glare from me.  

“Then have fun with Wendy and your pink hair crush.” 

“I’m just kidding!” Seulgi laughed, opening the lid of my Mac so I could continue my work. “Text me your order, that’s too long for me to remember.” 

Seulgi didn’t specify if we needed to dress up or if there would be a dress code for this small celebration of her friend. Wendy and I talked on the phone, and she was stressing out because she remembered Chaeyoung’s words clearly about how rich this Seulgi’s friend was.  

“Oh, my gosh, what if we arrived there in our jeans and dirty sneakers, then the people will be in their tuxedos and evening gowns?” Wendy babbled on the line. I was still on campus, having a lecture to attend, and had to go straight to the address Seulgi sent on the group chat she created specifically for this event. 

I laughed at Wendy’s state; I could hear how she was rummaging in her closet. “It’s going to be fine. We are just going to be there for Seulgi, not to impress anyone. If there would be dress code, we’ll just pretend to be one of the servers then.” 

That made Wendy laugh. I heard how she plopped on her bed, groaning on the line. “What are you wearing, anyway? You’re going straight from uni, right?” 

I examined my clothes for the day, mentally slapping my face when I chose to wear something so casual, forgetting that we had to attend something in the evening for a moment this morning. “Uh... jeans, loose white t-shirt under a plaid shirt—and oh! An old Nike shoes.” 

Wendy’s whined was loud from the other line. I laughed at her reaction, and I had already expected this kind of reaction from her—or anyone else. “Out of all days of the week, why did you dress up like a trucker today?” 

“Probably because I had a lecture that goes from nine in the morning until five in the afternoon. I need to be comfortable throughout the day, ever thought of that?” 

Wendy continued to whine, and I couldn’t do anything but shake my head, laughing at my friend’s reaction. “Just wear any clothes you have. We’re going to be there for Seulgi, that would be the only purpose of our presence. To make you feel better, we’re supposed to look bad so Seulgi would look much prettier. I’m done here and I’ll be on my way in a few.” 

I had to take the subway and a bus just to get to the address we were supposed to be at. It was almost an hour of travel using public transportation, though the waiting time for the subway and bus was already included in that time frame, but still. 

I opened the Map app on my phone as Wendy and I looked for the address. We decided to meet at the bus station, and I was glad we did. It was awkward to walk in a suburban area by yourself, not when the neighborhood was really that high-end. 

“I wonder how Seulgi became friends with this guy,” I pondered, looking at my phone for directions. 

Wendy linked her arms with mine, needing support as she decided to wear wedge sandals. She didn’t listen and chose to dress herself appropriately. Although, it was a good thing to be presentable. I just felt out of place. It was my fault, anyway. 

“I heard that Seulgi’s ancestor had been working for their family since the nineteen hundred.” Wendy answered, pointing to a massive gate that was the pin destination on my phone. Finally. 

When we pressed the doorbell, the gate was opened as we mentioned Seulgi’s name. Once we got inside, I saw a house that was too familiar. My voice was stuck in my throat as I stared at the structure longer than I was supposed to. 

When she noticed that I wasn’t responding to her comments about the manor, Wendy called my name and looked over her shoulder to see me frozen on my spot. “Are you okay?” 

I slowly turned my head to her, my index finger pointing to the house in front of the lot. “T-that’s—” 

“Oh,” Wendy glanced to where I was pointing at. “The security right there said that it’s where the staff stay. All carts were taken so he said that we need to walk to the main house.” 

Right then, my eyes started scanning the place slowly. It was the Byun’s manor. There were some changes, but I knew the place by heart. My heart was thumping inside my chest loudly, and my fingers felt clammy. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Wendy held my arm; concern was evident in her voice. “You look like you’re going to pass out.” 

I forced myself to nod, giving her a tight smile. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit tired.” 

She looked hesitant at first, but when I grabbed her arm to walk to the main house, she threw her doubts away. She admired the manor as we walked further into the lot. 

I was honestly not feeling well. My head was spinning a little bit, I felt nauseous, and I wanted to convince myself that it was just a coincidence, that there was no way in hell that it was true, that it did happen in real life. 

Not when I finally truly accepted that it was just a dream. 

Not when it took me years to finally move on. 

When we were ushered into the main house’s dining hall, a few people were already conversing with one another. I kept my mouth shut as Wendy tried to look for Seulgi, who was already here as she informed me. 

I sat in the corner of the dining hall while Wendy looked around the place. I felt so out of place, but it didn’t bother me much since I focused on how I would cope after this.  

Acceptance and moving on were the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life so far. I was unable to eat or drink water. I was unable to function or sleep. I didn’t know where I would go. I didn’t have someone to talk to about this. 

No one will believe me. 

It was a process of healing, accepting that it didn’t happen, and moving on from the emotions that were built. It took me a long time, but I did it.  

But when I wanted to be there for a friend, I didn’t know it would harm me more than I could ever imagine. 

I was snapped out of my thoughts when a butler caught everyone’s attention. It was a special occasion, and the family would open the library hall, where antiques from their ancestors hundreds of years ago were kept. 

Wendy was an Art major; she got excited and pulled me up from the chair I was sitting on. “Seulgi said that some of their ancestors were great at painting canvases. Let’s go and see!” 

I could only smile at her, unable to say anything.  

The butler would patiently explain something when someone asked. I followed Wendy around when I noticed Seulgi was not here with us. “Oh,” Wendy shrugged, rolling her eyes playfully, “she’s with him. She said that she’ll introduce us later.” 

I stopped in front of the framed document and hung on an empty wall. It was a land title. I was about to walk away from it when something caught my attention. 

Was that our home address? 

Before I could react further, Wendy hollered my name, asking me to come over as the butler would finally show the paintings she was excited about. 

Art is stupid. That was what my dad said, but it was not. Every canvas was beautiful. Even though I knew nothing about art, unlike Wendy, I still appreciated each piece displayed in the hall. 

I was walking further down the hall, and I didn’t even notice that I’d been separated from Wendy. From paintings, old portraits were displayed on the other side of the hall. My lips slowly spread into a smile when photos of the old city were shown. 

Observing each photo briefly, my feet brought me to the end of the hall, where a black-and-white photo was taken. There was too much noise, but I knew that face. 

“San,” my mouth fell open as I let out a deep, trembling breath upon recognizing the man who helped me. That’s San. I couldn’t be wrong. I know his hairline, as offending as it might be. And it’s him. 

My chest started to heave, but I forced myself to continue observing the portraits. Another photo caught my attention. It was three images merged into a single frame. It was a picture of the wardrobe that was in our attic. It was captured on an empty lot. The next photo was of the same lot, but a house was being constructed on it. The last picture was when the house had been built completely. 

It was my parents’ house. 

My hand raised to cover my mouth as I let out a sob. I couldn’t believe this was happening right now. Then I felt my phone vibrate in my hand.  

It was a notification from iCloud that the syncing of my files was completed. I was confused, as I clearly remembered that I turned off the feature to automatically sync my files. I opened the backup storage and saw the newly added photo. 

It was a blurry candid photo of a man in a white dress shirt and waistcoat. 

Baekhyun. 

It was the photo I was looking for two years ago. It did exist. 

Then I saw something hung on the wall at the very end of the hall; however, the lights weren’t turned on, and there was a stanchion. Despite knowing that it was prohibited for a reason, I decided to follow my instinct and walk towards the stanchion. 

A painting was hung. Though this side of the hall was dimmed, I could still see the messy painting. A figure hugging her knees, her feet bare, and her face hidden on her folded arms. Fingers peeked out, and the ring bought from the streets of Hongdae was visible. 

The painted character was a weird interpretation, but it was my Winnie the Pooh pyjamas.  

That was me. 

In the prison cell where I first met Baekhyun. 

“Baekhyun,” I whimpered, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to remember his voice, his touch, everything about him. 

When I opened my eyes to admire his messy work once more, I noticed the handwriting framed below the painting. I leaned a bit to read what it said. 

“My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again. 

I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew... 

I was Enchanted to meet you.” 

I finished reading it with a deep, trembling breath. My shoulders were starting to shake from wanting to wail so badly, but I knew I needed to keep it in as I didn’t want to create a scene where a lot of people around. 

I wasn’t even able to calm down when I heard my name being called. The voice was Seulgi’s. I plastered a smile, wiping my soaked cheeks with my hand before turning around. 

There he was, eyes were already locked on mine. 

His eyes whispered, “Have we met?” 

Across the room, his silhouette started to make its way to me. 

My eyes followed his every movement, from how his eyes danced around my face to his pink hair bouncing with every step. 

I could feel my bottom lip quiver when he stood right before my eyes, our orbs locked to each other as Seulgi introduced us. 

“He’s the friend I was telling you about!” Seulgi gushed, and I felt terrible I didn’t even acknowledge her presence. “His name is Baekhyun.” 

Instinctively, I repeated his name, missing how it felt to say it from my lips. “Baekhyun.” 

He smiled gently, and it was the same beautiful smile I had ever seen.  

His eyes darted to the painting behind me before shifting his gaze to the ring on my finger, which was similar to what was in the painting, then to my face, his orbs danced around my features. I was so familiar with his smile that it could replace my anxiousness with a gentle breeze that soothed my nerves. 

“Hey.” 

This is me praying that this was the very first page. 

Not where the storyline ends. 

[florydaax]

The Sims 3 - Store World Legacy

Hey everyone! I’m here to bring you all a new Sims 3 legacy challenge: the Store World Legacy. Each generation will live in a different store world. There are 11 different worlds, so this legacy will have 11 generations.

Riverview

Barnacle Bay

Hidden Springs

Lunar Lakes

Lucky Palms

Sunlit Tides

Monte Vista

Aurora Skies

Dragon Valley

Midnight Hollow

Roaring Heights

This is the release order, but you can always do a different order! The main goal of this challenge is to play in each store world! I also made some rules for each generation. You don’t have to follow them if you don’t want to, it’s completely up to you! This challenge is inspired by the Lepacy challenge, where each generation is a different expansion pack. With this challenge each generation is a different store world! I made this challenge because I realized I’ve actually barely or never played in some of the store worlds. So in this challenge we explore all the store worlds and see what they have to offer! (I've completed the challenge! Check out the playlist here) Generation One: Riverview All you want is peace and quiet. You’ve finally escaped city life and moved to the sleepy town of Riverview. Here you can finally live the life you’ve always dreamed of. You really want to become a farmer. Fruits, vegetables, chickens, cows! You want it all. Will you be able to find peace in Riverview? Traits: Green thumb, Loves the outdoors, Hopeless romantic, Technophobe, Eco-friendly Lifetime wish: The perfect garden (or one of the Back to Nature lifetime wishes) Career: Gardener

Rules:

Master the gardening skill

Reach level 10 of the gardener career

Complete the aspiration

Complete the Master Farmer skill challenge

Have one best friend

Have at least three kids

(Let Don Lothario ruin your life)

Generation Two: Barnacle Bay Arrr! Do you want to become a farmer just like your parents? No, you want adventure! You love camping, fishing and going to the beach. Barnacle Bay is perfect for you, with its beautiful beaches and relaxing campgrounds. You don’t want to settle down. You just want to have fun with the other Sims in Barnacle Bay and climb the social ladder.

Traits: Angler, Slob, Commitment issues, Good sense of humor, Sailor  Lifetime wish: Presenting the Perfect Private Aquarium or Seaside Savior Career: Angler or Lifeguard

Rules:

Master the fishing skill

Reach level 10 of the angler or lifeguard career

Complete the aspiration

Eat at the Pirate Ship at least once a week

Travel abroad at least once

Buy a boat

Reach at least celebrity level 3

Be romantically involved with 3 Sims at the same time

Generation Three: Hidden Springs You’re sick of everyone talking like pirates. You’re also sick of the media spreading rumors about you. Growing up, you never really had a good relationship with your parent, because they were always away from home. You also had a hard time making friends, which I why you completely focused on your studies. Once you’ve graduated high school, you realize you’re burnt out. You move to Hidden Springs in search for some relaxation and to escape the paparazzi. It’s time to take things slow and focus on yourself. Once you feel like yourself again, you decide you want to become a doctor and help other Sims. Traits: Genius, Loner, Good, Neat, Ambitious Lifetime wish: Living in the Lap of Luxury Career: Spa Specialist and Medical career

Rules:

Have an A in school and get on the honor roll

Don’t have any friends as a child and teen

Master the logic skill

Reach the top of the Spa Specialist career

Quit your job as a Spa Specialist and join the medical career

Complete the aspiration

Marry an athletic Sim

Become a partner of the Hidden Springs Day Spa

Drink from the Fountain of Youth and wish for youth

Generation Four: Lunar Lakes You love everything about space and science! So it’s not a surprise that you immediately joined the science career after high school. A couple of scientists get the chance to do research on Lunar Lakes and you’re one of the lucky ones! You say goodbye to your friends and family. Once you arrive there, you realize this all you ever wanted in life. You decide to never return to SimEarth. Traits: Genius, Excitable, Natural cook, Unstable, Unflirty Lifetime wish: Become a Creature-Robot Cross Breeder or Scientific Specialist Career: Science

Rules:

Master the science skill

Reach level 10 of the science career

Complete the aspiration

Get married as a young adult

Get divorced as an adult, you’re too busy with your career

After the divorce, you both still live in the same house

Use the clone voucher lifetime reward

Engineer a baby

Generation Five: Lucky Palms You’re bored of Lunar Lakes and decide to go to SimEarth. You end up in Lucky Palms and spend a lot of time at the casino. Money, money, money. You throw lots of luxury parties for your friends and you get a lot of attention from the Sims in town. You’re bored very quickly, so your relationships don’t last that long. Traits: Lucky, Schmoozer, Flirty, Party animal, Commitment issues Lifetime wish: Swimming in Cash Career: Business

Rules:

Reach level 10 of the business career

Complete the aspiration

Reach level 10 of the gambling skill

Have at least 5 friends

Go to the casino at least four times a week, you’re addicted to gambling

Have at least 3 kids

Make all 5 wishes at the wishing well

Generation Six: Sunlit Tides You never had to worry about money. You quickly get married to your partner and spend your honeymoon in the beautiful Sunlit Tides. You decide to never leave. Lucky Palms was nice, but it was very dry. You spend your days painting, writing and relaxing at the beautiful beaches while your partner works a shady job. You never planned to have kids, but one day you get bored and have an affair, and woops, there’s a baby! Will you keep this a secret? Or will your partner find out? Traits: Loves the heat, Loves to swim, Hates children, Snob, Artistic Lifetime wish: Illustrious Author Career: A job? What is that?

Rules:

Marry the first sim week of being a young adult

Have your partner join the criminal career

Master the painting and writing skills

Complete the aspiration

Have an affair and have a baby with this Sim

Generation Seven: Monte Vista You love cooking and you’re always making the best quality meals for your family. Monte Vista is the perfect place to learn the culinary arts! It’s your dream to become a famous chef. Traits: Natural cook, Perfectionist, Great kisser, Charismatic, Dramatic Lifetime wish: Celebrated Five-Star Chef Career: Culinary

Rules:

Reach level 10 of the culinary career

Complete the aspiration

Master the cooking skill

Complete all cooking skill challenges

Learn all recipes

Your house is not a house if it doesn’t have a wood fire oven

Never eat a quick meal

Have at least 3 kids

Generation Eight: Aurora Skies You go to Aurora Skies in search of love and happiness. You want to get married and have a bunch of kids. Your dream: a big happy family. You also care for the environment. The eco-friendly community welcomes you with open arms.  Traits: Eco-friendly, Family-oriented, Loves the cold, Nurturing, No sense of humor Lifetime wish: Surrounded by Family Career: Daycare

Rules:

Reach the top of the Daycare career (or not because this career can be a pain)

Complete the aspiration

Throw a bachelor(ette) party

Get married

Have at least 5 kids (I dare you to have quads)

Teach all your kids to walk and talk and potty train them

Generation Nine: Dragon Valley Time to become the new Mother of Dragons. You love mythology and fantasy. As a child, you were always reading books. You move to Dragon Valley because you’ve heared there are dragons. DRAGONS! There’s also a conflict between brewing between two families in the town for control of town. So, why not add more conflict by trying to become the leader of the town yourself? Traits: Bookworm, Virtuoso, Good, Brave, Irresistible Lifetime wish: Leader of the Free World Career: Political Rules:

Reach the top of the political career

Complete the aspiration

Have a red, green and purple dragon

Master the violin skill

Practice archery

Generation Ten: Midnight Hollow You never felt like you fit in. Sims think you are kind of strange. That’s why you move to Midnight Hollow. Here you can finally be yourself. You also hate the sun and going outside. Perfect! The sun never shines in Midnight Hollow. Traits: Night owl, Evil, Inappropriate, Hates the outdoors, Over-emotional Lifetime wish: Turn the Town Career: Run your own business or Toy Maker

Rules:

Run a business or reach the top of the toy maker career

Master the inventing skill

Complete the aspiration

Become a vampire

Invent a time machine

You get married, but your partner dies a tragic death

Bring your partner back as a ghost

Generation Eleven: Roaring Heights One day, you find the time machine your parent invented. You’re very curious and step inside. The time machine breaks and you’re stuck in the past! You have no idea how to go back, so you just try to make the best out of your life in Roaring Heights. You never see your family again. Traits: Party-animal, Workaholic, Handy, Vehicle Enthusiast, Star quality Lifetime wish: Superstar Actor Career: Film

Rules:

Reach the top of the film career

Complete the aspiration

Become a five-star celebrity

Fix the Fixer-upper Car

Congratulations!! You’ve completed the challenge! 

[rimouskis]

pet loss cw

I had my first phone call since copper's passing with my parents yesterday and we didn't talk a ton about it — mostly because I don't want to just yet — but they both brought it up as a thing where, like... they still look for him when they enter the house, stuff like that.

it's tough, and sad. in a twisted way I'm almost glad I don't live at home anymore because even though I missed out on a lot of his life ever since I left for college all those years ago, it means my day to day is unchanged after his passing. I didn't see copper every day. it'll be hard to go home that first time and feel his absence, but on the daily, I'm not noticing it. my parents are.

my dad also told an anecdote about the only other dog my family's had — elkie, a norwegian elkhound who was the farm dog on the farm my mom grew up on. when my grandparents sold the farm my parents were newlyweds and agreed to take elkie in. she lived outside her whole life (she liked it that way, trust me, this dog did not like having a roof over her head lol) and made it to EIGHTEEN years. and my dad told me a story about how when he'd taken her to the vet for her final appointment, he'd thought he'd steeled himself enough for it and gotten used to the idea because of how old she was, but it was still hard and impactful for him, and the vet had told him he could leave but he stayed by her side through it.

he didn't tell me any details about copper's visit, but I'm grateful for that, I think. I think he was trying to communicate to me that he did the same for copper and that it impacted him too (even though I do think he was fonder of elkie than he was for copper, haha, copper was a weirdo goofball cat-dog).

anyways, I had some weird grief dreams about copper in the week or so since. one was distressing and i was home, copper was still alive, and my dad told me he was taking copper to be put down and I was trying to bargain for more time, and it wasn't possible for some dream-logic reason.

the second dream I remember is one where copper was taken away for that final appointment, but... he came back? and was fine? and was lively and spry in a way he hasn't been for years? but as the dream went on, something changed, something switched, and that young spry dog wasn't copper anymore. it was a different dog entirely.

anyways, I luckily didn't find those dreams too distressing when I had them — I mostly just found them weird, and I dislike remembering my dreams in any case — and I still feel like I'm doing a pretty good job at metabolizing my grief. I cried a bit typing out this post but it's just... catharsis.

I had a catch-up phone call with my high school best friend today and told her the news, and she gave me her condolences. getting to tell the story again is good, and honestly it's really comforting for me to discuss him with people who met him. she knew copper, all those years ago.

on that same note, my parents told me that our next door neighbors, who we adore and whose kids have always been happily enlisted to dogsit copper when my parents were traveling, all gave their condolences. the two daughters texted me, which was sweet, but even the mother of the family texted my mom, and their eldest son who lives a town over swung by and gave his condolences to my parents personally.

I think I mentioned it in an earlier post, but so many people have reached out upon hearing the news to share just so many lovely things about him, and it was just so impactful. he was "just" a dog but he was so clearly loved 😭 oh, my good boy. my baby dog.

[theerurishipper]

I remember people said the scene in Transmission, where Ladynoir renounce their Miraculous and "seemingly" not thinking about each other are mean to be a plot hole, not character inconsistency.

Bt for me, if the character NOT even make a slight uncomfort gesture/expression when they see Scarabella and Black Minette out there instead of their team mate, then it's not a plot hole, it's character inconsistency.

"Plot hole" excuse only work if Adrinette make any comment/looks surprised/make any reaction upon seeing the new duo but the aired time won't let the show do more than that. But the show doesn't let them react negatively which resulting people interpret it as "Yeah I don't care about my team mate, I already got my gf/bf anyway" which is not plot hole at all.

It's 100% character inconsistency. Plot holes are when the plot is wonky, and some logic doesn't logic. When a character acts OOC, it is character inconsistency. Adrien and Marinette have both become wildly OOC since the second Adrienette became canon on this show. They don't care about superheroing anymore, they don't care about each other as Ladybug and Chat Noir anymore. Outside of like, one line about "I hope Ladybug/Chat Noir are okay" (which is quickly overshadowed by some Adrienette, cause we sure do need more of that when we're talking about the late Ladynoir), they just don't give a fuck.

Actually, this isn't even character inconsistency anymore, this is a whole character overhaul a la whatever happened to Felix Fathom. Cause Adrienette only works if you change significant aspects of their characters. What about Chat Noir meaning freedom and a means of escape for Adrien, what about Ladybug being the narrative opposite of his abusive father who gives him unconditional love and acceptance? Fuck that, what he really needs is to start centering his identity around his classmate (with whom he isn't even that close because she thinks he's perfect) and defining himself based on her needs. And what of Chat Noir being the only one who can understand Marinette's struggles? Chat Noir being her special partner whom she can always lean on? Nah, fuck that shit lmao, here's Marinette trying to tell Adrien something he already knows and Marinette trying to hold Adrien's hand even though she's done that before without a problem!

Anyway, like I was saying, they had to change their characters up so that Adrienette could make sense, because it sure wouldn't make sense if it became canon in the show that devoted the bulk of its development to Ladynoir, now would it? So that's why we get episodes like Determination, where Adrien is suddenly head over heels for Marinette out of fucking nowhere, right after the Jubilation dream sequence where they had those cabbage patch kids, and Ladybug initiated a kiss even though they realized this was a dream, and they were clearly having some complicated feelings about the whole thing at the end of the episode. Cause fuck Ladynoir, amirite? Like, why would we waste time on the relationship we spent 5 seasons developing when we could focus on some cookie cutter high school romance with retcons galore and multiple, I tell you, multiple scenes featuring Marinette suddenly having the inability to do things she's done before with no problem, and apparently, it's all Chloe's fault, like what a fucking shocker, who could have seen that coming.

And lets not get into the actual plot holes in Transmission too, cause those also exist? How does Adrien Agreste know and proudly state Scarabella's name when no civilian knows she exists? How does this not make Marinette question why he knows? Why does Marinette expect that someone else becoming Ladybug means she's free when she's still the Guardian? Make it make sense, please.

Anyway, that's all I got. I'm sorry for using your ask as a venting post, anon. I just rewatched Gamer today, and god, Adrienette are so cute and adorable in Season 1. Like, they actually have chemistry and fun interactions and it's the lucky charm debut episode! I will never forgive this show for taking that Adrienette away from me and replacing it with... whatever Season 5 coughed up.

Thank you for your ask!

[reluctantjoe]

Mathew Baynton on life after Ghosts

Shilpa Ganatra interviews Mathew Baynton, who explains why it’s time to end the BBC One sitcom and how new voices are improving TV comedy

“What have we done?” bemoans the decapitated head of Sir Humphrey Bone, after the nation’s favourite spectres make a defining decision in the final episode of Ghosts, which goes out as a Christmas special on BBC One. “We did the right thing,” Julian Fawcett, the trouserless MP ghost, says confidently.

The exchange nicely reflects the sentiment of the show’s creators, the Them There collective, in deciding to exorcise the BBC supernatural sitcom after five series – despite notching up several RTS nominations and maintaining an audience of around 4 million throughout its run.

The Christmas special was co-written by Them There’s Mathew Baynton, who also plays the romantic poet Thomas Thorne in the series.

“From an artistic point of view, I’ve never been in any doubt that ending Ghosts now was the right thing to do and the right time to do it,” he tells Television. “From a personal point of view, we feel a sense of loss that we’re not going to be getting together in that place at the same time of year, every year. But nothing can go on for ever.”

“That sadness tells you it was the right thing. If we carried on for another five seasons and we were all bored of it, bored of each other, and it wasn’t as good as it used to be, we wouldn’t miss it afterwards.”

The series follows in the tradition of British domestic sitcoms, centring on a young couple, Alison and Mike (Charlotte Ritchie and Kiell Smith-Bynoe). They inherit Button House, a country manor haunted by a disparate crew of spirits from across the ages, played by the Them There collective: Baynton, Simon Farnaby, Martha Howe-Douglas, Jim Howick, Laurence Rickard and Ben Willbond, plus Lolly Adefope.

The show is a logical leap from the troupe’s first multi-award-winning TV creation, Horrible Histories, which re-enacted the curiosities of yesteryear in comedic skits. Horrible Histories’ success made it “shockingly easy” to get Ghosts commissioned – the only bump in the road was discussions between the group and the BBC about the pilot.

Recalls Baynton: “They wanted to do a pilot that would go out with other pilots. We wanted to do one to figure out the idea and road test the special effects, but we didn’t want it to be aired, because then there would be a pressure to not change it.”

The compromise was to make a 10-minute taster pilot that wasn’t for broadcast. This taster tried out their initial idea of having a house full of different ghosts and playing multiple characters (as with Horrible Histories and Them There’s Sky One series, Yonderland). But the result proved this set-up didn’t create the character friction necessary to sustain a sitcom, so the band stuck to the small group of ghosts we know today, from a prim and proper Edwardian matriarch to a caveman.

As Ghosts meets its end – on British TV at least, as the US adaptation is still going strong and about to enter its third season – Baynton, who turns in a high-octane performance as Fickelgruber in the film Wonka, is turning his attention to the other strings in his bow.

At the end of January he’ll step into the role of Bottom in a new production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream by the Royal Shakespeare Company.

He’s also writing a comedy film (details are being kept under wraps) and will show off his more serious acting side in the upcoming BBC Three series A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder, a crime thriller based on the bestselling novel.

As a student, Baynton initially studied directing, earning a first-class degree at the Rose Bruford drama school in south-east London. After being drawn towards comedy, he attended Philippe Gaulier’s famously idiosyncratic clown school in Paris. “We used to say half of the fee is like a ticket just to watch him, because he’s hilarious. He plays the persona of a curmudgeonly, philo­sophical, French sort of half-wizard,” he recalls, adding: “Philippe’s got an incredible ability to help you learn what the audience sees in you.”

“If people tried to act up an idiot character, he’d say, ‘Don’t pretend to be more of an idiot than God already made you. He did a good enough job’. You don’t need to exaggerate it or pretend to look stupid. What you need to be is honest about the thing about yourself that people find funny, and then access that and allow people to laugh at it.”

This advice helped Baynton climb his first rungs in TV comedy to play Deano in Gavin & Stacey, a work colleague of Smithy (James Corden). He would go on to co-create and write the RTS award-­winning The Wrong Mans with Corden, the co-author of Gavin & Stacey. By the time Ghosts began, he had worked in TV comedy – featuring in Peep Show, Spy and The Armstrong and Miller Show, among others – for more than a decade.

“You’ll hear people saying, ‘Comedy was best when I was young’. I always think, ‘Well, you’re just not paying attention, then’. There will always be great stuff and if it doesn’t speak to you, it’s probably because it’s for people younger than you.”

While being a dad of two has limited the amount of competitor benchmarking he’s doing, he’s impressed with the greater breadth of voices in contemporary TV comedies.

“Bridget Christie’s The Change springs to mind, with menopausal women as the central characters, and the specificity of the location of the Forest of Dean. You couldn’t say that’s like any sitcom that’s come before,” he says. “We Are Lady Parts is another one, so is Stath Lets Flats.”

“I don’t know why I’m only naming Channel 4 shows, seeing as the BBC has been so good to me…”

Making comedy inclusive is no constraint to a writer, Baynton believes: “I’ve read the odd interview where people have said that creators are self-censoring to the point where they can’t be as instinctively funny. And some people see comedy’s function as being able to say the unsayable.”

“I can only speak for myself, but I know that my best work comes from writing and rewriting. What emerges is always something cleverer than I am, because in life you only get a first draft when you’re having a conversation. It’s not a bad thing to realise that a joke could maybe hurt someone, and it sounds like a better idea that I should rewrite if my intention could be misconstrued.”

As the curtain falls on Ghosts, commissioners are clamouring to find out what’s next for the Them There collective. Happily, they still have the same personnel and are mulling over their next project.

“We’re mindful that we can’t just do a modern sitcom where we’re wearing jeans and T-shirts. It just isn’t our tone,” says Baynton. “When we look for ideas, we’re thinking, what’s the playground that we can put ourselves in? Where we can do something with a heightened silliness, where potentially we play more than one character, and where there is a costume element to it.”

With this tried and tested formula as the base, their continued success seems assured. The legacy of Ghosts is preserved, too, persisting in the corridors of Button House and, indeed, TV history.

[lej222]

i went back to re read the chapters of ASLFUA after reading your metas about the narrator's voice becoming more active and playing an active role in the story, and omg in ch 135 the narrator says (at least in the eng translation): "Now that i think about it, this was about the time... wait no it was a little bit earlier, that things started to go wrong, little by little. You two were completely oblivious, though. Just you two"

like WHAAAATTTTTT??? I'M SO NERVOUS WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEANNNN????? OMG OMG OMG OMG???? DO YOU HAVE ANY THEORIES??? what do you think could go wrong??? my heart literally sank when i read that part OMFG

i was also thinking... WHAT IF ITS JISU?? what if jisu is the narrator, and is for some reason telling cheol and miae's story from the future? lol its kind of a bizarre theory and idek if its that plausible (or would make narrative sense) but that thought just suddenly came to me...

Honestly, there have been these ominous sentences throughout the story and I think this can go two ways: Miae and Cheol will have a big challenge in the upcoming chapters that they have to overcome, or Miae and Cheol might not end up together. I feel like the recent chapter on Naver served as a climax of their relationship buildup and from now on things will be harder for them. It doesn't mean I'm against them staying together at the end, but I don't think it will be an easy road for them. Maybe one of them has to move away, it could be even Miae based on the latest chapters, it's still not clear.

I cannot write replies for some reason, but I saw your comment and what I meant under that post was that at that time they hadn't acknowledged their romantic relationship, or rather Cheol hadn't acknowledged their fateful encounters (Miae did, just like how Jisu acknowledged it with her, but Miae didn't). I assume things will be different from now on because Miae was honest about her feelings.

As for what I mean by challenges, the biggest ones are their entrance exam (and future high school) and Miae's mother. There's absolutely no way Miae's mother would be okay with her dating. Maybe not even in her first years of high school. The story is from Miae's teenage perspective, but her mother's character definitely keeps the series grounded. She doesn't let us readers forget that Miae has her whole life ahead of her and should put effort into studying. Miae is still a kid running away from her parents and shouting on the street, she cannot possibly understand what a romantic relationship truly means, that much was clear from the recent Naver chapter. However, I think that the feelings of first love are well-portrayed, with Miae believing she would marry her first love, all bright-eyed and innocent - I'm not saying that this is impossible, but this particular naive innocence is truly reminiscent of everyone's first love. Obviously it all depends on the author's intention🙂 Miae might get her happy ending with Cheol regardless of what I'm rambling about here in my theories

Jisu being the narrator is an interesting idea that we obviously cannot rule out for sure. I personally believe the narrator's tone doesn't really sound like him (like addig the ^~^ emoji in ch4 at the end of the sentence), but it's a fun theory for sure. I think if we assume that the narration is consistent and the narrator is also the one responsible for the signs in Miae's dreams, the phone calls, the flyer messages, the radio broadcasts, and also the one who talks to Miae directly and can even control weather (something I wish to include in my divine intervention meta in the future) - then the most logical conclusion would be that the narrator is a supernatural entity. I don't know if something like this would be addressed or if it's just a narrative device, but currently it's my personal theory. Obviously Jisu could be the narrator as well, I can always be wrong😃

Btw, thank you so much for all your replies, you're so nice!❤️

[understandableparadox]

Bottom of the barrel isekai: b-rank adventurer with an evil look becomes a daddy to the protagonist and his childhood friend.

Well if i'm reading it, that's a goddamn lie, hello! Pull up a chair, drink my tea, piss on my wife, you have the most control in this world because you are the specialist lil fella that can do not a lick of wrong! It's time for another bottom of the barrel isekai review! Today, you can read the title above, go fuck yourself if you think im going write it out every single god damn time.

Come out boys, girls and some other thing, frogs? Is that what the enbys like these days? Frogs? Anyways let's do the song and dance!

Our titular main character is a dude from japan, they wasted their live away being a disgusting fucking neet and playing video games all the live long day, being a whale in pirates 101 and domeing me from across the map as widow maker on royal!  

Anyways he fucking Dies and gets reincarnated in the game he and his singular friend dearly loved known as bright fantasy, now as we can see in the picture above, perhaps he reincarnated as some sorta giga god, perhaps his party abandoned him because they didnt understand the monumental boon a tax accountant has in another world… perhaps he was summoned by the king to Fuck his wife for him! 

Wait a second… is that a sharp detour…? FU-

Anyways gray is reborn as a Thug Npc, or someone with a dark background, his looks mean, he has a average appearance and some fucking sick shoulder gaurds.  He is a moody lil nobody, which is why it's such an insane hook to see it open with two children begging to be adopted by him in the opening

Now before you get too scared that we are running into uncharted territories since we haven't had anyone betray anyone and the MC has not turned god inside out, we get to dive back into the cool cocoons of familiar fantasy tropes with the adventuring ranking system. I'm not going to bother to explain it, if you got a letter grade in school then you know what it means. Get close to the A and that means you are the Big Boy adventurer who does the Big Boy quests. 

Now i do appreciate the authors restraint and only making him the Second Biggest boy and attempting to make him Not A Twink

We almost have a guy who is on a bulk and not a cut, sigh, one day. 

Anyways we pull back ground tall dark and who cares to learn that these two are matchstick kids. Dead broke kids who are attempting to sell flowers they have picked to the people on the street. They were attacked by nobody you are going to remember and get healed by gray. They then decide to beg him to save their ailing parents because I guess wonka isn't around to give golden tickets to get them out of bed or whatever. 

They tell them their names, one of them has the super special name of the Super Main Character. What a coinkyDink. Gray knows that if he is to be a villain (???) then his job is to avoid it. Luckily he went to the Katarina claes school of villainy and decided that ethical action is actually more important than meta narrative logic. 

Cut to Tiny tims lakeside property and we see the rest of the family living the fucking dream!

I'm so sorry, i have this mental tick where i accidently say “dream” instead of “nightmare”.

Also Stella is a vampire, why? Fuck you thats why. 

They explain that they have been getting by by the skin of their teeth through a combination of the street urchin grind set of selling flowers and getting church donations. Gray beats up some assumed child abductors outside and gives a somewhat creepy smile. 

Next chapter is about Gray stealing an orcs' balls to create a high end potion (viagra) to nobles so he can get enough money to buy something called a “home”? I'm not sure what that is exactly, i'm not sure what the translator was talking about, i've certainly never heard of someone “buying” or owning one for certain.

I don't actually have much to say about this guy, this is the guy who makes the ball potion for gray, I just like him, he has a funny face, I like looking at it. He looks like someone I would trade yugioh cards with while he tells me about his super cool oc and I would listen because he is a fun dude. 

But yeah, the manga is mostly about this guy being a slightly more psychotic late stage kratos, being a dad, trying to raise a bunch of random kids he found, trying to give the main character a taste of normalcy before the plot kicks and and shit goes sideways, oh and sometimes he brutally kills people. 

His main goal is to have a family and that's about that. 

So let's start getting into things. 

The title has no interest in creating an expansive world that is original, everything of it is meat burrowed and stitched into its own narrative to support its own plot line and to explain why this happens and why that is occurring at this point. Now I do not believe that this is inherently a bad thing. In fact it's fine. Not every single manga needs to be the next genre defining piece of media. In fact we need things that are average, we need things that build the genre or else we can never have exceptions to the rule.  The magic system, the team system, the classes, the guilds, the plot, it's all what you would expect from something with final fantasy inspirations. Semi (not really) complicated fighting systems that only make sense to pad out the loving tedium of a game. “Complete this many quests of this level to rank up.” “collect this many monster parts to complete the quest” and so on and so fourth ad infitum until god has to pop out and ask what the fuck is going on. 

The art is great in places. Most of it is very bog standard, you aren't going to get that much out of it if you are expecting groundbreaking designs that really make you scratch your chin in wonder at how they made something like that up. But it's very clearly competent and knows how to give each of its characters that needed cover before you read the book. People that need to look like unlikeable thugs look like unlikeable thugs, children that need to look sweet and innocent look sweet and innocent. The artist is really good at goofy expressions but they are a bit few and far between to really satisfy my desire for evil fucked up faces, oh kekegurui… if i didnt hate your plot so much i would be so much more obsessed with you… 

The tropes I've already gone over. It uses every single trope but more so in the way someone would do if they were playing a new game plus. You don't want to do the rigamarole of the heroes rise so you make them overpowered and whatever so they can get to the stuff that you have deemed important, that being fatherhood simulator and housing market simulator. The world is secondary to the plot the author wants so they grab the tropes they want to ensure they can focus on that part of the story with impunity while hand waving some other things and give ol daddy gray his badass moments to make the editors happy that this is infact enough of a power fantasy. You know, to keep those freaks that actually buy the manga happy. 

As for kink stuff, none that I can see. The author only seems to want women to fawn on the main character so they can complete the golden vision of the dead emperor abe of the nuclear family, perhaps hoping to tempt his blessing from beyond the grave… 

This was a little bit of a boreing read. I cant entirely recommend it, but if you want to see some edgy boredline twunk be a dad to a bunch of random kids he adopted then yeah, go for it lmao. 

[totallynotwaffle]

I had an insanely touching dream today. There was a lot of the usual stuff, insanely weird dream logic that makes sense only in the moment, but a scene at the end right before I woke up kinda stuck with me. It was a classroom setting with other people, and there was the door to leave with countdown right beside it. Through the dream, I knew that whoever went out that door would become a completely different person, irrevocably and unchangably, and be unable to ever enter the classroom again. The countdown for each person, andwas the time remaining until you stepped through the door, with a high estimate in the realm of weeks or months, and a low estimate. There was a lot of people who just didn't wanna go through, but quite a few did, and they would disappear into the hallway afterwards. I think I sat there for a while, just looking at the number go down and seeing people leave through the door. After a while, I took a breath and walked through.

And I started sobbing uncontrollably on the other side.

I don't think I actually made a sound irl, but the sorrow I felt was enough to wake me up like it was a nightmare. I sat thinking about it for a while afterwards.

I think it's very rare we get to mourn our old selves, the cosmic change we experience between phases in life is only ever discernable in hindsight. There's clear ones of course, like moving somewhere new, finishing a degree or school year, or meeting someone who will become a cornerstone for as long as you know them. But a lot of these moments are indecernable or mundane. The last time you take that train route to go to work, the last time you speak to someone before they drop out of your life, the last time you see that graffiti before it gets washed away. Like I never had a proper conclusion to my senior year in high school; we went digital because the first Covid wave hit us in the middle of the year. I basically dropped doing schoolwork altogether, and I wasn't ever able to talk to the people I knew in classes I could easily go to again. There was a pathfinder game I attended during after school in a classroom in the basement. I was never going to enter that classroom ever again.

We rarely mourn our past selves right as we stop being them, but it's also difficult to know when that moment even happens. Any day can be a fundamentally life changing experience, any moment changing you into someone new, someone who can never go back to how things used to be.

TLDR I guess; Find some time to mourn yourself, for that person you can never be again. Find some time to remind yourself of what trials you overcame, even if you didn't know it at the time. Find some time to appreciate your own history, who you were then and how you are now.

[everlastiingiimmortals]

Willow I wanna hear you talk more about babby Jing Yuan because the lil' doodles you drew of him as a kid are so freakin' cute AAAA

Unprompted. Always accepting!

HI RENNI I'M SO GLAD U ASKED AAAAAA

Gosh idk where to even BEGIN. I'll say that Jing Yuan as a tiny child was. wild. Very enthusiastic! It doesn't seem like he's a Foxian or has Foxian ancestry, but his character story suggests that Foxian traditions for "determining" a child's future (setting out various toys representing career paths to see which the infant cub chooses) were adopted by his parents regardless, in which he grabbed the toy sword. Of course, this could all also be rumor! We actually have little idea about what all is truth or not from Jing Yuan's past, aside from his military records.

But I digress- wild child. He was very very brave and also incredibly smart even at a young age, learning how to master puzzles and logic problems very quickly. SUPER restless boy. He needed to be doing something physical at all times, which stressed his parents out because they were both the quiet scholarly type, preferring to spend their days reading indoors rather than going outside.

I don't want to say Jing Yuan had a bad childhood, because his parents did love him very much, but they did not, ah, appreciate his interest in adventure, weapons, and the Cloud Knights. This caused their relationship to become pretty strained by the time Jing Yuan started approaching adolescence. The things his parents were content with and even enthusiastic about bored him terribly, and they could not understand why he would want to travel beyond the Luofu. It's dangerous! He could die!!!

I think Jing Yuan learned fairly quickly how to be independent as a result, as it was from this point of contention that he learned concealment. The way of life his parents led was so unfulfilling to him that he started sneaking out at night, slipping more interesting books between his textbook pages to read in class, etc. He was the kind of gifted child that didn't need to put effort into his schoolwork in order to ace it; top of his class and everything. It was all too easy for him and he was bored. He pretended to give into his parents wishes and study to get them off his back, so they wouldn't suspect his long hours away from home watching the Cloud Knights and pestering Jingliu to train him.

I've mentioned this before vaguely, but it was about the time when he'd be transitioning to the equivalent of high school that he basically just. announced he was leaving to train under the Sword Champion. And his parents blew up. I don't really blame them. I mean, you live thinking your prepubescent teen has learned some sense and is doing wonderfully in school and is gonna follow in your footsteps and you're so proud, and then he pulls the rug over your eyes by pretty much walking out the door with his bags packed, like??? what happened???? what went wrong???????

Of course, he didn't say anything that'd have indicated to them that he'd never let go of his dreams. In that moment, to him it was either fulfilling his life or rotting away behind a desk, and of course he chose the former.

Funny how that turned out, isn't it? :)

[tothepointofinsanity]

[Last night, a dream gave me a string of numbers. I recall I needed a specific code to access my coursework materials, which was supposedly provided by the lecturer, yet no one could remember it. Although, if I had to guess the reason why no one could remember said code, it was probably because the people I could interact with in the dream were all from my high school. Most of my high school acquaintances are not with me in my university. Of course they would logically not know the code to my university when they aren’t even studying in it. Yet, still, among the responses of uncertainty, some of them managed to give a proper answer, although with advice for confirmation with others. We were also all lingering around the beach in the evening for some reason. I was…excited to see some of my old friends again, but because I became so accustomed to my dulled senses, I did not express it, and struggled to ask about the required code after such a long time of not having talked to one another. I suppose I often have dreams of high school since it was the most memorable period of my life, and when I was the most cheerful. When you look back at memories with lenses that aren’t anymore rose tinted, you suddenly feel confused of your own identity and what it all actually “meant” to you. Perhaps I wanted to cherish those times more, and tightly hold it in my hand so the distance between each time and self isn’t as jarring. But things like that are expectedly difficult. Anyways…the code I remembered someone told me was “CEC41418200.” I cannot be certain if it did end with “200”, but the other numbers should be correct.]

[mickgaydolenz]

speaking of dreams that reminds me of one i had back in high school that is so fucking funny/cringy i need to share.

i used to work at the “local” theatre in my city, so in my dream i was working a shift on concession and everyone was abuzz about the rumours that there was going to be a new adaptation of interview with the vampire (this was back when there was actual talks of this happening/a new movie adaptation of the vampire lestat irl and robert downey jr. was supposedly in talks to play lestat). i was excited as a fan of the books, but i also wasn’t really participating in the conversation at all. meanwhile a customer came up to my till and i did my whole spiel of offering a combo and asking for their points card before i even looked at them, but when i did immediately i knew that this person in front of me was the REAL lestat de lioncourt.

and i just kind of froze. like i had no idea what to do or say because i both wanted to acknowledge that i knew who he was, but i also didn’t want to alert anyone else to the fact that he was there. but of course because of dream logic lestat knew that i was struggling with that, so he just casually lent in and asked if i was familiar with him. and of course i just kind of nodded dumbly, but that was enough to kind of start a conversation. i don’t remember what we said, but there was this feeling like we had a deep connection even though we just met, so when i finished getting his order he told me that he’d meet me after work and we could talk more. i was so insanely excited because he was going to tell me all this stuff that never made it into the books, so the rest of my dream shift just flew by.

i can’t really remember too many details after that, but we did meet up and, this is the really funny part, but he could fucking fly (as he does in the books eventually) so he fucking FLEW US to the top of this large apartment complex and we just spent the whole night talking and by the morning we were really good friends 😂. WAIT it was cringier than that, like legit we had a moment where we were like it feels like we’ve always known each other, and like we were destined to meet!! eventually armand showed up too (like next evening ish in my dream, and he was just lurking outside my bedroom window), but he was jealous that i was getting close with lestat, so i had to explain to him that we were just friends and i would literally never get into a relationship with him ahahahahahhaha